ApologetLag

Apologetics is hard. Arguing defensively for one's faith is always a dicey proposition, compounded by the fact that one is always fighting last generation's battle.
This was very clear to me growing up in 80s America in an Orthodox Jewish community. In 1985, we finally had an answer for the society of 1955. Now it's 2015, and we've come up with responses as fresh as 1985. (Sorry, as a child of the 80s, I can only think of time in Back to the Future settings.)

Hat, beard, peyos, jacket--1885 was such a mechayeh!

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the way contemporary halakhic Judaism grapples with homosexuality. Whenever religious Jews try to talk about gay issues, they end up sounding like recent arrivals from another era. Haredi (ultra-Orthodox) parties make no bones about it: they won't even put a female on their lists, as part of their commitment to 18th-century ideals.
But it's particularly irksome when you encounter some of the opinions offered by members of Bayit Yehudi, the Jewish Home Party, ostensibly representing the dati (translation: let's just go with the barely serviceable "Modern Orthodox") perspective. Party Leader Naftali Bennett, a moderate, explained that same-sex marriage is as kosher as a cheeseburger, while Rabbi Eli Ben Dahan, once (and future?) Deputy Minister of Religious Affairs called it "a recipe for the destruction of the Jewish people." Yehudit Shilat, director of the Takana Forum dedicated to helping victims of sexual abuse, has stated that since most homosexuals choose to be that way, "advancing the gay-lesbian agenda legislatively" leads to "collective suicide." Bezalel Smotrich reported that he now regrets organizing the Beast Parade in 2006 to compete with the Jerusalem Pride Parade, but he's still a self-identified "proud homophobe" (see, proud is gay-eh in Hebrew; get it?) who declared ("normal," in modern Hebrew, is a synonym for "sane" or "free of mental illness"):

Any person can decide he doesn't want to live a normal life. That's his right. But they don’t have the right — just because they are uncomfortable being abnormal — to demand of us all to redefine the norm and claim "there is no such thing as normal."

And that's not even getting into the mortifying video of Bayit Yehudi candidates responding to the issue of same-sex marriage.

While Shilat did not get into Knesset and the Jewish Home lost 1/3 of its seats, the others are now proudly serving. If two of Likud's current members move on and Amir Ohana, number 32 on the Likud list, takes his seat, I wonder how the gay Tel Aviv lawyer will be welcomed by his party's "natural partners" in the Jewish Home.
For a man who ran on a platform of "No apologies," Bennett surely seemed apologetic when presenting his offer to the LGBT community, "Rights, yes. Recognition, no." He talked about how much he loves all Jews, even the gay ones, and how he served alongside them, but "Look, I've got a kipa on my head! Formalistic Judaism does not recognize same sex-marriage."
I might note that formalistic Judaism does not recognize weddings performed in Cyprus either, but I digress. What does formalistic Judaism actually say? And since it looks like the Jewish Home will, almost against its will, accept the Education Ministry, what will they teach?
It all starts with that perplexing pair of verses in Leviticus, 18:22 and 20:13, which we read yesterday in Israel and will be read by Jews abroad this week, prohibiting and penalizing "bedding a male the beddings of a woman." What exactly that means on the literal level is unclear, as I wrote two years ago (Rabbeinu Hananel seems to have suggested the same thing a thousand years ago), but halakhically it definitely forbids anal sex between men. But what if they're not men?

They must both be stoned if they are both adults, as it states: "Do not bed a man," whether he is the active or passive partner.
If a minor of nine years and a day or more is involved, the man who enters into relations or has the minor enter into relations with him should be stoned and the minor is not liable.
If the male [minor] was less than nine years old, they are both free of liability.
(Maimonides, Laws of Forbidden Relations 1:14)
 

Here is where the apologeticists' heads explode. You see, they love to explain how the severe penalties for sex between men is really about pedophilia, launching into lusty descriptions of Greek culture. But the fact is that by Torah law, a man having consensual sex with an adult is liable to the death penalty, but one raping an eight-year-old gets off scot-free. This is explicitly laid out in the Talmud, Sanhedrin 54b. Maimonides himself seems bothered by this, so he concludes:

It is, however, appropriate for the court to subject the adult to lashing for rebellious conduct for homosexual relations although his companion was less than nine years old.

Well, that's something. Except of course that the Hinukh, a comprehensive listing of the 613 commandments based on Maimonides' count, thinks another party should be subject to lashing:

If one was a minor below thirteen years and a day, but above nine years and a day, the adult is stoned whether he was the active or passive partner, while the minor is biblically exempt but lashed by rabbinical law.

So, Naftali, I wear a kipa too. And if I lived in a Jewish state that followed this ruling, I would do everything in my power to burn it to the ground. I guess the question is when you're willing to apply the rule promulgated in the last line of the first tractate of the Mishna, Berachot (9:5):

And it says, “It is time to act for God, they have nullified your Torah.” (Psalms 119:126) Rabbi Nathan says, “'They nullified your Torah' – because it is time to act for God.”

The best way to avoid apologetics is to have nothing to apologize for in the first place.

My Rebbe is gone

This morning, we lost one of the greatest Torah minds of our generation, Rabbi Dr. Aharon Lichtenstein, Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Har Etzion, PhD in English Literature from Harvard, winner of the Israel Prize for Jewish Literature last Yom HaAtzmaut.

Studying under Rav Aharon and his fellow Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Yehuda Amital (who passed away in 2010), was one of the greatest privileges of my life. It seems like yesterday that I was sitting in the moadon, the gazebo where he gave shiur, waiting for the lesson to begin, wondering if I prepared the sources properly with my havruta (study partner), trying to anticipate what paths this once-in-a-generation scholar would lead us down.

In particular, I recall how, nineteen years ago, we were studying the third chapter of Ketubot, dealing with some of the most dense, complex and sensitive topics of sexuality in the Talmud. We had reached folio 39a, which at its top deals with the contraceptive device known as mookh.  Rav Aharon was ready to go on to the next mishna, but I begged, “Rebbe, what about mookh?” “Ah, mookh,” he replied, and then launched into a meticulous analysis of the varying opinions, the parallel passages, the practical conclusions. All that was at his fingertips.

And yet he never relied on his superior memory. Many a time and oft he could be found at his makom, his modest seat at the front of the beit midrash (study hall), poring over another well-worn volume from his library, taking notes, stacking them one after another. Still it’s a wonder that he managed to get anything done there, as there were often students waiting to consult him on all manner of theological, halakhic and personal matters. Some were teenagers, some were middle-aged, but it was Rav Aharon’s way to help you find the answer (or at least refine the question) for yourself. He never sought to be an oracle; his only goal was to teach, to inspire, to challenge.

The first and wisest of them all professed
To know this only, that he nothing knew.
JOHN MILTON, Paradise Regained

And those were challenging times. After Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated on 4 November, 1995, Rav Aharon led us to pay our respects amid the long line of mourners. Then he delivered a blistering three-hour tour-de-force of a lecture, demolishing the twisted interpretation of Jewish law that had led a former yeshiva student to murder the prime minister while asking the troubling questions of how such a person could come from our midst. Exactly four months later, on the Fast of Esther, Rav Aharon cut short another lecture when he learned of the Dizengoff Center suicide bombing, saying: “This is the time for prayer, not study.” Five years later, when I was injured in the Sbarro suicide bombing in Jerusalem, Rav Aharon called me personally to check on me.

And now my rebbe is gone. Anything I can utter will pale in comparison to what his learned children and students will say tomorrow. Besides, we don’t eulogize on the New Moon, so instead I will offer a small devar Torah.

Today is 1 Iyar, the first day of the second month. It is a prominent date in the Hebrew calendar. This is how the Book of Numbers, which we’ll start reading later this month, opens:

Lord spoke to Moshe in the Sinai Desert, in the tent of meeting, on the first day of the second month of the second year after they had left the land of Egypt. He said, “Take a census of the entire assembly of the people of Israel, by clans and families. Record the names of all the men twenty years old and over who are subject to military service in Israel. Enumerate them company by company, you and Aharon.”

Aharon the Priest is explicitly included in this command. And yet when it comes time to count his own tribe, the Levites, the Talmud (Bekhorot 4a) tells us that “Aharon was not in that counting.” Malbim (Num. 3:39) explains that Aharon had a special mission among the Levites: speaking to the firstborn among them.

At this point in the desert, the holy duties of the firstborn are transferred to the Levites (3:6-12), as God says: “Summon the tribe of Levi, and assign them to Aharon the Priest… I have taken the Levites from among the people of Israel in lieu of every firstborn… All the firstborn belong to me, because on the day that I smote all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, I separated for myself all the firstborn in Israel.”

The Levites replace the firstborn–but what about the Levites who were firstborn as well? Aharon was to help them “redeem themselves”–since he too was a firstborn Levite! (See Rashi and Tosafot ad loc.). Now, what did this mean practically? These individuals were holy regardless, either as firstborn or as Levites, so why was there a formal ceremony to redeem themselves? This indicates that as important as the “what” and “how” are in Judaism, the “why” and “wherefore” are equally significant. Aharon’s mission was to teach the firstborn Levites to see a new aspect of their identity, to realize the multiple worlds they held in their souls.

If Rav Aharon taught us, his students, anything it was to see the complexity of humanity and the world. There are always multiple facets, and we must strive to reveal them.

May his memory be a blessing.

Bless You

The most well-worn pages of our Haggadot are those in the section known as “Barech.” After the Seder night, we have no pressing need for the text of “Dayenu” or “Chad Gadya,” but we still have to say Birkat HaMazon, and as our leavened year-round birkonim have been put away, we pull out our Haggadot. After all, the version we say at the Seder is almost identical to what we say throughout the holiday week—with one exception. Many have the custom, as cited by the Aruch HaShulchan (O.C. 479:2), to say an extended HaRachaman, praying for “a day which is fully long, a day when the righteous sit, with crowns on their heads, enjoying the glow of the Divine Presence (Shechina).”
The first part of this insertion is a variation on a theme we know well. Every Shabbat and Yom Tov, we add a HaRachaman that makes reference to Olam HaBa, the World to Come; in each case, it is, essentially, a play on words, as in Midrashic sources, Olam HaBa is referred to as “a day which is fully restful (shabbat)” (Tamid 7:4, et al.) and “fully good (tov)” (Kiddushin 39b, et al). Thus, on the day of Shabbat, we admit that the true Shabbat is elsewhere, and on Yom Tov, literally “a day of good,” we admit that true good is elsewhere. Olam HaBa is also referred to as “fully long” (ibid), or eternal. However, we have already said the regular formula for Yom Tov, so what does this reference add? After all, if any holiday if called “The Long Day,” it is not Pesach, but Rosh HaShana!
Furthermore, what is the reference in the second part of this special HaRachaman? It seems to come from Rav’s famous statement (Berachot 17a): “The World to Come has neither eating nor drinking... rather, the righteous sit, with crowns on their heads, enjoying the glow of the Shechina.” As such, it seems quite out of place at the Seder—is there any meal in the Jewish calendar which involves more eating and drinking? Are we begging God to relocate us to a world where we won’t have to eat so much matza and drink so many cups of wine?
It seems that in order to understand this HaRachaman, we must reverse our hypothesis. We have assumed that it is connected to the day, and its placement within Birkat HaMazon is coincidental; this is, after all, the template for the ones we recite for Shabbat, Yom Tov, Sukkot, Rosh Chodesh and Rosh HaShana. But what if we were to start from the opposite point of view: that this HaRachaman is essentially connected to Birkat HaMazon, and its recitation on the Seder night is coincidental. This would indicate that there is something unique about this meal as a meal—but what could that be?
Let us return to the three-word source for Birkat HaMazon in the Torah (Devarim 8:10): “Ve-achalta, ve-savata u-verachta,” “You will eat, you will be satisfied, and you will bless.” The Written Torah spells out an obligation only in the case where one has eaten enough to be fully satiated; the Oral Torah expands this to specific amounts, and very small ones at that. In fact, this is God’s response in a beautiful legend in Talmud Berachot (20b). The angels accuse God of being partial to the Jewish people, to which He responds: “How can I not show favor to Israel? I wrote for them in the Torah, ‘You will eat, you will be satisfied, and you will bless Lord, your God,’ but they are so exacting upon themselves, even for an olive’s volume [of bread], even for an egg’s!”
In fact, for every meal we have throughout the year, whether for a mitzva or just for sustenance, we don’t even consider the issue of satisfaction, merely measuring the minimum amount. There is, however, one meal in which we cannot stop until we have fulfilled “ve-savata”—the Seder. We must eat our afikoman, our final portion of matza, which parallels the actual piece of the paschal sacrifice which our ancestors would eat, “al ha-sova,” being satiated. This is the one time when the entire nation fulfills the mitzva of Birkat HaMazon in its most literal sense.
With this in mind, we may return to our HaRachaman. It points out that the long meal of the Seder, where we literally drink and eat our fill, is only a reflection of the true sova, the ultimate satisfaction of being in God’s Presence. Thus, our proper fulfillment of the mitzvot of the Seder night allows us not only to reenact the Exodus, but to reconnect to those practices which define every day of our lives as Jews.

Happy Day Day!

The Twentieth Knesset will be sworn in on Tuesday, and I urge them to take up, as their first legislative priority, the Day Day Bill.

The aim of Hoq Yom Yom is to set aside one day a year to just be a regular day. A regular workday. A regular school day. A regular bowel movement day. Just a day.

There will not be special signs, banners or bunting for this day. No balloons. No specialty napkins, stickers or emjois. No one will send you unsolicited text messages about seasonal charities, business opportunities or lectures. You may go to a cemetery, but only with a black cat at midnight, like a normal person.

There will be no evening or morning sirens, ceremonies or cantorial concerts. And speaking of cantors… yes Tahanun, no Hallel. Yes LaMnatzeach, no Musaf. ONE SHIR SHEL YOM!

It will not be a biblical, rabbinical, Kabbalistic or Zionistic holiday. We will not memorialize anyone getting martyred or married or manumitted. We will not be igniting giant candelabras or giant bonfires or giant fireworks displays or giant piles of stale crackers, pitas and, inevitably, plastic bags. Nor will we be burning or waving any flags. Nor will we be using real hammers to build huts or fake hammers to bop people.

It will not be anything eve or post-anything day. Buses will not stop running at midday or start running at nightfall. Stores will be open, and so will government offices, at their regular hours, those being 10-11 AM and 2-3 PM.

Your children will not need to bring an egg, aluminum-foil-wrapped potato, or random dairy product. They will not come home with a smashed container of honey or piece of matza. They do not need to wear white or blue or orange shirts. But they should wear something, otherwise you will get a visit from the department of children’s services.

We will love our parents, grandparents, children, reserve soldiers, active-duty soldiers, agunot, cancer patients and survivors on this day, because we should do that every day.

We will not pretend to be Ethiopian or Moroccan or Russian or Druze or Canadian on this day. Anyone who wants to celebrate something after normal business hours is welcome, but we don’t need an endless stream of photo ops for politicians and notables pretending they like unfamiliar ethnic foods.

No one will be feasting or fasting today. Just eat and drink normally. You may shave. You may get a haircut. You may not wear a soul patch, unless you are a douche-bag and wish to warn people. You can try muttonchops or a goatee, but I doubt you can pull it off.

You may wear deodorant. In fact, you must. Every day. Honestly, why would you not?

There will not be any elections on this day, municipal or national. Whatever assortment of fools got elected last time can hold the country together for another week.

Garbage will be collected. Mail will be delivered. Clocks will not be set back or forward, and we might actually get some work done during the day and some sleep at night.

And most of all… you don’t need to wish anyone a Happy Day Day.

2017 election results are in!

Let me apologize again for our earlier error. We mistakenly reported that the Pirate Party had won 79 seats; what we meant to say was that the Pittsburgh Pirates won the '79 World Series. We were looking up the results on our phone, and it isn't Hebrew-enabled... Never mind.
Anyway, here are the confirmed results. In what is being called (by us right now) "a once-in-a-millennium revolution," Prime Minister Benjamin "Bibi" Netanyahu is the stunning winner, as the right-wing parties have scored 42 seats. Remember how last time it was 44, and the time before that 43? Undoubtedly, this is the most significant event in human history since the earth cooled 2.5 billion years ago. (CORRECTION: Bibi's likely haredi coalition partners are telling us that it was 5776 years ago.) Apparently, his slogan: "Third Intifadah, Fourth Gaza War, Fifth Term" truly resonated with voters.
Labor Leader Meirav Michaeli was stunned by the results, as her party received only 20 seats. In her concession speech, she said, "What? You didn't want another journalist? But I'm the scion of an important family too! Don't you think--" At this point, she was replaced by Eitan Cabel, who promised a new direction for Labor.
Within the right, Naftali Bennett was mystified as to why his party has shrunk to 5 seats. Some have criticized his choice to rename it the Jewish No Homo Party, but Bennett remains convinced that he will take over the Likud within 18 months.
Avigdor Lieberman has scored 8 seats, with his Red-handed Army initiative, committing him to bring to Knesset only politicians who are under ethics investigation. Of course, he faced some stiff opposition from Aryeh Makhloufeasance Deri's Maranimum Security Party, which includes only convicted felons. Readers may recall that Ehud Olmert was granted early parole in order to run, in the famous Supreme Court ruling We Don't Really Give a Flying F Anymore (And Before You Ask, Zoabi and Marzel Can Run Too).
BREAKING: Eitan Cabel has been replaced by Stav Shaffir.
The biggest surprise may be that the Righters' Bloc cleared the electoral threshold. "We kept trying to forge alliances between the political right and the religious right," said a spokesman, "but then we realized we needed the economic right, right-fielders, and right-hand men (and women. Just kidding, obviously no women)."
Meretz gained a seat, but leader Zehava Gal-On was heard to say: "We used to have 12! Forgive me, Mother Shulamit!" This statement was a bit muffled, as she had her head in an oven at the time. As the Israeli medical establishment has never had to treat a case of accountability, Deputy Minister of Health Yaakov Litzman has recommended she be transported abroad for treatment. As leader of United Torah Judaism, neither Litzman nor his followers will accept the title of minister, though they will take the office, car and money. It is unclear if Bibi's tactic of making everyone else in the party chief rabbi is sufficient, as Satmar Hasidim cannot make do with only one. Bibi contacted the Shahidy Pines Retirement Home to see if Abu Mazen can offer Neturei Karta a Chief Rabbi of the Palestinian Authority position, but Abbas was too busy eating tapioca pudding to take his call.
BREAKING: Stav Shaffir has been replaced by Tzipi Livni, but no one knows if she's still in the party. Her whereabouts remain unknown at press time. Also her whyabouts.
However, the greatest comeback of this election cycle must be that of Eli Yishai. Just last month, he won a primary for the polygamist slot in the Joint List, and he has already taken over the party by offering women chocolate bars for each room they clean for Eid al-Adha. When asked how she felt about his new wives, the first Mrs. Yishai had no comment, because she is invisible. Ousted leader Ayman Oudeh noted that like haredi women, Arab citizens of Israel "were used to being screwed by Jewish men."
Undoubtedly, the true power lies in the brand-new centrist socio- economic party, filled with brilliant people who are political novices, led by former Likudnik Gideon Saar, Mistaarim. With his dozen seats, he plans to take over the Finance Ministry and "blah, blah, blah." When his predecessor Moshe Kahlon was asked why he was still smiling after failing to pass the electoral threshold, he responded, "No, my face is stuck this way. Help." Yesh Atid held on with four seats, and leader Yair Lapid lamented, "At least Kahlon gets to go home. What the hell am I supposed to do?" Then he remembered that he is still hot and rich, and started smiling as well.
BREAKING: Tzipi Livni has been replaced by Shimon Peres, but no one tell him, because he's 93 and the shock might kill him.
But the question remains if Bibi can govern after some of the extreme statements he made in the last days of the campaign. He clarified that when he said "Blow the Dome of the Rock and rebuild the Temple," he meant: "I know to take stock and restrain my temper." As for his infamous "towelhead" comment, he explained: "That was taken totally out of context. I was talking about that scene in romantic comedies when the female lead comes out in a bathrobe and a towel wrapped elaborately on her head. I find it trite and cliched." As for his statement to President Hillary Clinton that "America can suck a dick," he elucidated, "I meant that one. But don't get me wrong, America is still Israel's greatest vassal--I mean, ally."
When asked about the prospects of this government serving a full term, all 120 members of Knesset issued a rare joint statement: "You've gotta be f-cking kidding me."

What would Moses do? Vote!

There's just something about late winter in Israel that feels like elections. Every single national contest we've held in this country in this century has been between mid-Shevat and late Adar (February-March). Maybe it's the realization that we're not getting any more snow days, so we need another reason for a day off.
But another 21st-century Israeli electoral trend is much more troubling: citizens just aren't that into it. Consider the turnout for the last five elections, percentage-wise: 62.3, 67.8, 63.6, 64.7, 67.8. Compare that to the last five elections of the 20th century: 78.7, 79.3, 77.4, 79.7, 78.8. When once nearly four in five voted, now we're not even averaging two out of three.
For a bit of insight, let's turn to the man whose birthday and yahrtzeit fall smack in the middle of this season: Moses. What was Moses' deathbed wish? To cross over the Jordan and enter the Land of Israel. But why?

R. Simlai expounded: Why did Moses our teacher yearn to enter the land of Israel? Did he want to eat of its fruits or satisfy himself from its bounty? But thus said Moses, "Many mitzvot were commanded to Israel which can only be fulfilled in the land of Israel. I wish to enter the land so that they may all be fulfilled by me."

That's what we find in the Talmud (Sota 14a), but it is still pretty vague. The Midrash (Yalkut Shimoni 816) narrows it down further: "This is the appointment of the king." Moses wasn't looking forward to the first fruits or tithes or sabbatical or jubilee: he was anticipating "the appointment of the king"--not the coronation, not the reign, but the appointment.
This is shocking when we consider how low an opinion some of Moses' successors had of the institution of the monarchy, Samuel first and foremost. "You have said to me: 'No, a king shall reign over us,' but Lord your God is your king!" (I Sam. 12:12). We might expect the man who concluded the Song of the Sea with "Lord shall reign forevermore" (Exod. 15:18) to object to a human king. But on the contrary, Moses' most profound wish is to witness the appointment of a king in Israel--to fulfill that mitzva.
But perhaps this is a one-time command? No, it appears in the lists of 613 commandments, e.g. #497 in the 13th-century Sefer HaChinnukh.

Rather, the significance of the commandment is not limited to the appointing of a new king, it encompasses everything we have mentioned: the appointing of a new king – if there shall be a reason why one shall be needed – and also the establishing of the reign in the hands of the heir, and the constitution of his authority over us; and in all respects, we should behave toward him as we have been commanded, and as we do following the known procedure and command, which truly does apply forever.

But maybe the command is just for important people like Moses? Actually, the king is supposed to be appointed by 70 members of the Sanhedrin, and appointing them is another mitzva (#491):

Now this is one of the commandments which is incumbent upon the entire community in each and every place, and as explained in Tractate Sanhedrin (2b), a community that has the ability to establish among them a council but does not set one, has abrogated a positive command, and their punishment is very great for this commandment is a strong pillar... For each and every congregation in all places should select some of the good among them, people that will have power over all of them to compel by whatever means necessary... and to remove from amongst their midst disgraceful matters and all of that ilk. In regard to those appointed people it is also fitting that they should straighten their way and make their actions fit and have no cause for public shame... Furthermore, they should try continually to do what is beneficial for their colleagues that are dependent upon them to teach them the true way and to establish peace with all their energies among the congregation. They should abandon, leave, and forget from their hearts all of their physical delights; upon this they shall put their attention and upon this shall be the majority of their thoughts and activities, thereby fulfilling the verse (Dan. 12:3) "And those of keen intellect will shine like the brightness of the heavens, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars, forevermore."

This is what Moses wanted to do more than anything: to leave behind a political structure that would last, a society that could prosper for generations to come. He could not have been naive about the prospect: he himself, God's direct appointee, had to deal with numerous revolts and rebellions during his four decades. Moreover, he spent his youth in Pharaoh's palace, seeing the cutthroat nature of politics up close. But he wanted his last act to be doing his civic duty.
So yes, Israeli politics are imperfect. But as someone who's lived and worked in the US, Canada and Israel, I can tell you that having a vote that actually counts and a real choice among parties is a blessing. Sure, you may not find that transgender haredi Ethiopian faction fighting to make canola oil kosher for Passover for everyone, but choose the next best thing. Do it for Moses/ Moishe/ Musa/ Mosheh. Because a vote is a terrible thing to waste.

First Messiah

It's Messiah season in the Holy Land once again, with Passover, Easter and elections quickly approaching (not in that order). Now, we may not agree on who that ultimate messiah should be, but we can all agree that messianic fervor must be treated with massive amounts of chocolate.

Caption might as well read: Give yourself a little square for perpetuating gender myths and a big square for canonizing them in law!

But let's spare a thought for the first messiah, a man often unjustly discounted, dismissed and disrespected... (but enough about Buji!) Aaron the Priest.
Yes, Aaron is the first man to be anointed, which is what messiah (mashiach) actually means, as we read in this week's Torah portion (Exod. 40:13):

Then dress Aaron in the sacred garments, anoint (u-mashachta) him and consecrate him so he may serve me as priest.

In fact, this image of Moses anointing Aaron is so powerful that David writes a whole psalm about it (133):

A Song of Ascents, of David.
Behold, how good and how pleasant it is
For brothers to dwell together in unity!
It is like the precious oil upon the head,
Coming down upon the beard,
Even Aaron’s beard,
Coming down upon the edge of his robes.
It is like the dew of Hermon
Coming down upon the mountains of Zion;
For there the LORD commanded the blessing—life forever.

However, as the Talmud tells it, there was great apprehension for each of the brothers during the ceremony:

Our Rabbis taught: It is like the precious oil … coming down upon the beard, even Aaron's beard, etc., two drops like pearls hung from Aaron's beard...  And concerning this matter, Moses was anxious. He said, 'Have I, God forbid, made an improper use of the anointing oil?' A heavenly voice came forth and called out, Like the precious oil … like the dew of Hermon; as misappropriation is inapplicable to the dew of Hermon, so also is it inapplicable to the anointing oil on the beard of Aaron. Aaron however, was still anxious. He said, 'It is possible that Moses did not trespass, but I may have trespassed'. A heavenly voice came forth and said to him, Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together in unity;  as Moses is not guilty of trespass, so are you not guilty of trespass.

I said anointing oil, not Gatorade.

What were they so concerned about? Why was every drop of oil so precious? Let's take a closer look at this anointing oil (shemen ha-mishcha). WARNING: SIMPLE ARITHMETIC AHEAD!

Take also for yourself the finest of spices: of flowing myrrh five hundred shekels, and of fragrant cinnamon half as much, two hundred and fifty, and of fragrant cane two hundred and fifty, and of cassia five hundred, according to the shekel of the sanctuary, and of olive oil a hin. You shall make of these a holy anointing oil... (Exod. 30:23-25)

That's better. More super bowl, less Superbowl.

Now, the listed ingredients add up (500+250+250+500) to 1500 shekels--or 3000 half-shekels. I mention the half-shekel because this is the amount to be given by every Israelite, rich or poor, towards the construction of the Tabernacle. This is "ransom," "atonement money" and "plague" inoculation for every living man, according to the previous chapter. But there are some who do not have that opportunity, namely those who fell on the day the Golden Calf was made, "and about three thousand men of the people fell that day," because "the LORD plagued the people, because of what they did with the calf which Aaron had made" (32:28, 35).
Yes, Aaron goes on to offer a non-golden calf to atone for himself personally (Lev. 9:8) , but what about the 3000 who didn't walk away? These are the 3000 half-shekels which go into the anointing oil. Thus, every drop is precious, and the brothers are anxious.
A final point to consider is the source of the raw materials for the anointing oil--the nesi'im, the tribal princes (Exod. 35:27-28), mysterious and obscure figures in this book of the Bible. What is clear is that they view the donation of these materials as a national duty, as much as the precious stones on which the names of the tribes are inscribed. It is about accountability, the idea that the people's representatives assembled must represent all the people, not one sector, community or tribe. It's a message we sorely need in Israel, and hopefully our princes will remember it long after the Election Day chocolate has melted away.