Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

The belief in the Evil Eye (in Hebrew, it is known as the Ayin Hara) has existed since time immemorial in cultures all around the world. Ancients believed that the world was suffused with invisible powers that could be utilized as a supernatural weapon against one’s foes. In magic, the squinting of the eye as well as its gaze, could magically affect the image “captured” by the eye and it is for this reason, the belief in the Evil Eye in all primal societies is linked to witchcraft or demonology. Before there was Madison Avenue, ancients developed a unique appreciation for the power of the image. They believed that if you could control the image, you could enslave your foe, or perhaps even entrance someone you wish to attract! (Strange as it may sound, many of our modern perceptions of the image have not changed that much!)

To understand the meaning of the Evil Eye, a brief word about magic is important. Freud in his “Totem and Taboo” wrote that the attitude that is fundamental to all magic is that the belief that thought is omnipotent. Such beliefs are found in many of the primal religions of humanity. He adds that even the cannibals believe that eating their enemies enables them to absorb their strengths and abilities.[1]

Jung, in contrast, took issue with Freud and believed that thought somehow mysteriously participates in an unseen order in the world. Jung’s concept of synchronicity, or “purposeful coincidence,” is based upon the assumption that there exists a psychical connection between a physical event and the psychic condition that appears in juxtaposition with it. Freud, of course, regarded Jung’s concept of synchronicity as an example of animistic thinking.

Yet, even Freud would admit that the power of belief in magic and superstition can affect the behavior of its believers. Maimonides himself was not overly critical of Jews utilizing amulets whenever someone was dangerously ill. As a physician, Maimonides understood the importance of placebo in helping people recover from illness—but he cautioned: amulets have no efficacy whatsoever.[2]

One would think that human civilization would have abandoned its infantile beliefs in the Evil Eye and amulets centuries ago. Yet, beneath the veneer of civility, there exist certain strata of our psyche that has not evolved much over the millennia. This part of the psyche continues to manifest itself in a variety of seemingly “civilized,” ways.

For example: Have you ever been in a New York or LA traffic jam? Have you ever observed how people behave when it’s the middle of rush hour, or when somebody cuts ahead of you? How do they react? It is usually accompanied with certain finger gestures and verbal incantations designed to wreck havoc upon the life of the other driver. Though we normally don’t think of this type of reaction as being particularly superstitious, it is. Verbal curses and hand movements galore are part of the tradition associated with the Evil Eye. If you have ever engaged in such discourteous behavior, you have participated in primal religion!

Given the nature of medieval life and the constant dangers people experienced from day to day, it was only natural folks would develop preventive and curative measures and gestures (e.g., hand signs), as well as spoken formulas to ward off the Evil Eye. Among Yiddish speaking Jews, for example, we often hear of the famous expression Kennahora ‑‑ an abbreviation for the Hebrew “let there be no Evil Eye.”], fumigations, the use of fire, salt, horn, metal, the wearing of amulets (often hand‑shaped e.g, the Hamsan), tattoo marks, jewels (e.g., commonly seen by ladies who wear the “Chai”], the application of blue color, the symbols of the number five, and so forth.

Despite the rational faith we have inherited from Maimonides and other Jewish rationalists, Jewish customs and laws have long been influenced by its neighboring folk religious traditions. Many of the Talmudic beliefs regarding the ubiquitous presence of demons and magical beings that are contained in the Talmud specifically derive from ancient Babylonian religion! By the way, Kabbalists-medieval and modern-treat these teachings quite seriously.

The Talmud, for an example, suggests that if one wishes to immunize himself against the Evil Eye, he should hold his right thumb in his left hand and take his left thumb and place it in his right hand, and say, “I, so‑and‑so, am a descendant of Joseph, over whom the Evil Eye has no power over.” If he is afraid of his own Evil Eye, he should look at the side of his left nostril.”[3] The custom of spitting three times when mentioning something good about a person was believed to chase away the Evil Eye. The practice actually goes back to ancient Greece, where the Greeks use to spit three times in the fold of their garments to avoid the Evil Eye. In ancient Rome, spitting on one’s children was believed to magically ward off the influence of the Evil Eye. Since the earliest stages of human history, spitting was believed to contain magical powers—capable of creating life itself (see my blog articles on spitting).

The Talmud provides numerous anecdotes about the power of the Evil Eye. In one passage, some rabbis of Late Antiquity claimed that for every 100 people who die, 99 people die because of the Evil Eye. Some sages had the power to reduce to human beings into heaps of bones just with the power of their gaze. This ancient teaching would explain where we get the famous English expression, “If looks could kill . . .” Isn’t amazing how modern society has unconsciously passed down many of these ancient folk beliefs? Ancient historians of Babylonian religion acknowledge a huge debt of gratitude to the rabbis of the Talmud, who—more than anyone else—preserved the superstitious beliefs and rituals of the ancient Babylonians.[4]

Back to the Present

I am certain the roots of superstition and magic were wedded to capitalism long ago. One can only imagine the ancient business of selling talismans (not to be confused with the tallis) and amulets. It was probably a profitable business—perhaps, even a family business!

Yesterday, I came across an amazing advertisement that suggests the ancient craft of selling amulets has not disappeared altogether from history.

Perhaps in honor of Black Friday and Cyber Monday, rabbis in Brooklyn made the following advertisement:

• Evil Eye Removal $50, Credit Cards Accepted Continue Reading

For many years, I have found the study of atheism and skepticism rather fascinating. Whether it is Christopher Hitchen’s intriguing polemic, “God Is NOT Great,” or Sam Harris’ “The End of Faith,” or Richard Dawkin’s attacks on traditional theism, I have always found the questions they pose to be relevant for discussion.

Freud himself often said that the greatest skeptics of religion are not necessarily the atheists, but rather it is the true believer who feels the compulsion to prove the Existence of God. One can easily invert Freud’s position as well: Skeptics, who kvetch about the non-existence of God, are probably closet theists!

I love my atheistic friends; they often speak about God as much as the theists do! This morning, I came across a remarkable story about a new illustrated Bible that was pulled off the shelves of Sam’s Club and Wal-Mart—”The Brick Bible: A New Spin on the Old Testament by Brendan Powell Smith” (http://www.bricktestament.com).

Smith makes no pretense about his atheism and sardonic wit when it comes to interpreting biblical narratives. Smith uses LEGOs to depict pretty explicit images stressing the more violent and vulgar parts of the biblical narratives. Even if you don’t like Smith’s message, you admit his artwork is irreverently funny. But is his violent depictions of God’s wrath that much different from the great French artist, Gustav Dore (1832 –1883) depiction of the Flood? Actually, Smith’s portrayal is tame by comparison.

In fairness to Smith’s book, the biblical commentators, along with Christian and Jewish clergy tend to ignore the more ethically challenging passages of the Bible that deal with violence. Smith’s theological grasp of the Bible is extremely childish. He illustrates the problem of adults who never outgrow their childish images of God and religion.

Is this the kind of book that you would want to buy for your children as a Christmas or a Bar Mitzvah present? Hardly. Personally, I would not spend a nickle on it. His website pretty much says it all. The book is meant to generate disrespect for the Bible and especially its believers. I think he’s trying to say that the Bible is much too graphic and violent for young people. Is Smith being sarcastic? You betcha!

Whenever I read a book—whether it is written by a theologian or a skeptic—I generally ask myself: what is the scholar or writer trying to say? What kind of world-view is s/he coming from? If I came from a similar cultural background, how would I see or experience the world? I suspect that Smith would probably agree with this statement: Religious people don’t have much of a sense of humor. Guess what? Smith is probably more correct than not. The inability to laugh at some of the more problematic passages of the Bible suggests a seriousness that many of the biblical writers themselves did not share!

Picture God’s revelation to Abraham and Sarah, where God sends three angels to announce that a 99 year old man and a 90 year old mother are going to have a child named, “Isaac,” a name that is associated with wild laughter! God is portrayed by the biblical narrator as a trickster, someone who introduces paradox into the rather incredulous lives of Abraham and Isaac. Granted this kind of humor might not make Saturday Night Live, but the Bible often makes puns to introduce the element of surprise into a narrative. One could almost interpret the binding of Isaac much the same way.

In fact, Woody Allen did exactly that in one of his most profound biblical reflections. After going through the traditional story, Woody Allen’s conclusion is especially worth mentioning:

• And so he took Isaac to a certain place and prepared to sacrifice him but at the last minute the Lord stayed Abraham’s hand and said, “How could thou doest such a thing?”And Abraham said, “But thou said —” “Never mind what I said,” the Lord spake. “Doth thou listen to every crazy idea that comes thy way?” And Abraham grew ashamed. “Er – not really … no.”

• “I jokingly suggest thou sacrifice Isaac and thou immediately runs out to do it.” And Abraham fell to his knees, “See, I never know when you’re kidding.” And the Lord thundered, “No sense of humor. I can’t believe it.”“But doth this not prove I love thee, that I was willing to donate mine only son on thy whim?” And the Lord said, “It proves that some men will follow any order no matter how asinine as long as it comes from a resonant, well-modulated voice.” And with that, the Lord bid Abraham get some rest and check with him tomorrow.

It would seem that Woody Allen is the first Jewish interpreter to add a humorous hermeneutic to the story that probably escaped the watchful eye of the early rabbis and Church Fathers. But here’s the real question readers ought to ask themselves: Can the biblical text tolerate a humorous hermeneutic? Consider the following statement: “The Torah speaks in the language of humanity.”[1] What is language without humor and tonality? I would argue that to read a biblical text with a stoic perspective seems to miss the whole point of human language, which is full of paradoxical nuances, inflections-and humor!

Woody Allen is not the only comedian to utilize biblical motifs in a humorous fashion. Bill Cosby did one of the most brilliant parodies on the lives of our Edenic ancestors I have ever seen:

Years ago, comedian Bill Cosby offered a brilliant interpretation explaining the straightforward meaning of the text in a way that is clearer than most rabbinic and non-rabbinic commentaries:

• Whenever your kids are out of control, you can take comfort from the thought that even God’s omnipotence did not extend to God’s kids. After creating heaven and earth, God created Adam and Eve. And the first thing he said was, “Don’t.” “Don’t what?” Adam replied. “Don’t eat the forbidden fruit,” God said. “Forbidden fruit? We got forbidden fruit? Hey, Eve…we got forbidden fruit!” “No way!” “Don’t eat that fruit!” said God. “Why?” “Because I am your Father and I said so!” said God (wondering why he hadn’t stopped after making the elephants). A few minutes later God saw his kids having an apple break and was angry. “Didn’t I tell you not to eat the fruit?” God asked. “Uh huh,” Adam replied. “Then why did you?” “I dunno” Eve answered. “She started it!” Adam said. “Did not!” “Did too!”At least he didn’t say, “No problem.” At least he didn’t say, “No problem.” All right then, “Get out of here! Go forth and be fruitful and multiply.”Having had it with the two of them, God’s punishment was that Adam and Eve should have children of their own. [2]

With respect to many of Smith’s depictions, I frankly found many of them comical. Some of the more sexual passages like Smith’s interpretation of bestiality depicts a man trying to hump a bear—which is pretty stupid and dangerous! The sexual depictions should have been left out by Smith, because they are really unsuitable for children, teenagers, young adults, older adults, etc . . . but I suspect he wanted to say that there are a lot of R rated stories in the Bible. Well, in an age where religious communities censor literature because of its sexual content, perhaps all of us would be wise to remember that the Bible contains not only R rated material, but some X rated sections as well (cf. Song of Songs). As one pundit wrote, “The Good Book has never been particularly prudish about sex, covering rape, marital relations, incest, prostitution and endless begetting. However, Smith may be the only one who has illustrated them with LEGOs.” Say what you want about Smith-he knows how to sell books!!

More to the point, would Smith’s book be so outrageously sacrilegious when we compare it to comedians on prime time television (especially in Israel) doing biblical skits with irreverent humor? No, I don’t think so. Sometimes religious people really lack a sense of humor. Perhaps our tendency towards being overly serious could well be one of the reasons why so many people become skeptics in the first place. Continue Reading

Despite the plethora of scriptural verses depicting the arrival of the Messiah and the age he would inaugurate, many of the rabbis following the destruction of Jerusalem and its Temple learned to adopt a more realistic approach after being deceived by several pretenders who claimed to be the “real deal.”

One passage in particular comes to mind that many of you probably are already familiar with from our celebrations of the Tu Bi’Shevat[1] program. The first century Sage, Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai said: “If you should happen to be holding a sapling in your hand when they tell you that the Messiah has arrived, first plant the sapling and then go out and greet the Messiah.”[2]

An old Jewish story tells of a Russian Jew who was paid a ruble a month by the community council to stand at the outskirts of town so that he could be the first person to greet the Messiah upon his arrival. A friend said to him, “Why have you taken such a low-paying job?” Without missing a heartbeat, the man replied: “True, but the job is permanent” (especially in these hard economic times!)[3]

Maimonides’ comments are also well known, “And Ma’amin, I believe with a full heart in the coming of the Messiah, and even though he may tarry, I will wait for him on any day that he may come.” In the concentration camps, it is reported that many Jews chanted the Ani Ma’amin while walking to the gas chambers. Even in the face of despair and death, Jews affirmed the possibility of hope and redemption to a fractured world.

I would argue that R. Yochanan’s advice is imminently practical. The world will always be in need of saplings—that’s a certainty—but the arrival of the Messiah is more in the realm of an uncertainty. He was not the only scholar who felt that way. The fourth century Palestinian Sage, Rabbi Zera (290 – 320 CE) said, “Three things come when one least expects it: the Messiah, a found article and a scorpion.”[4] Maimonides clearly embraces the Talmudic realism regarding the Messiah in one of his best known Halachic passages pertaining to the Messiah:

• Do not think that the natural order of the world will be abolished or that some novelty will be introduced into nature; rather, the world will continue to follow its usual course. The verse in Isaiah, “The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, the leopard lie down with the kid” (Isa. 11:6) is meant only as an allegory and metaphor. Its meaning is that Israel will dwell in security with the wicked nations of the earth which are allegorically represented as ‘wolves’ and ‘leopards,’ as it says, “. . . a wolf from the desert shall destroy them. A leopard is watching against their cities” (Jer. 5:6). Those nations will eventually all adopt the true religion (dat ha-emet). They will neither rob not destroy; rather, they will eat permitted foods in peace and quiet as Israelites, as it says, the lion, like the ox, shall eat straw. All similar statements written about the Messiah are meant as allegories, and in the days of the messianic king everyone will understand which matters were allegories, and also the meaning hinted at by them.[5]

For Maimonides, the Messiah will not introduce new changes that overwrite the laws of nature. The world will remain much the same. However, the political differences will become more clear and noticeable. For the first time in her history, Israel will no longer experience the world’s animus directed toward her. This is for Maimonides, perhaps the greatest miracle that Israel as a people can look forward to in the Messianic Age.

One might wonder: What does Maimonides mean by “allegory” or “parable”? In Maimonides’ Commentary to tractate Sanhedrin, he explains his position regarding the questions regarding the Messiah, the Messianic Age, as well as the matter of the Afterlife.

• One class of thinkers holds that the hoped for good will be the Garden of Eden, a place where people eat and drink without bodily toil or faintness. Houses of costly stones are there, couches of silk, and rivers flowing with wine and perfumed oils, and many other things of this kind. . . . This set of thinkers on this principle of faith bring their proofs from many statements of the Sages, peace to them, whose literal interpretation forsooth accords with their contention or with the greater part of it.

• The second class of thinkers firmly believes and imagines that the hoped for good will be the days of the Messiah, may he soon appear! They think that when that time comes, all men will be kings forever. Their bodily frames will be mighty. . . . They also bring proofs for their statements from many remarks of the Sages, and from Scriptural texts which in their outward interpretation agree with their claim, or a portion of it.

• The third class is of the opinion that the desired good will consist in the resurrection of the dead. . . . These thinkers also point for proof to the remarks of the Sages, and to certain verses of the Bible, whose literal sense tallies with their view. The fourth class is of the opinion that the good which we shall reap from obedience to the Law will consist in the repose of the body and the attainment in this world of all worldly wishes, as, for example, the fertility of lands, abundant wealth, and the abundance of children. . . . The holders of this view point for proof to all the texts of Scripture which speak of blessings and curses and other matters, and to the whole body of narratives existing in Holy Writ.
• The fourth class is of the opinion that the good which we shall reap from obedience to the Law will consist in the repose of the body and the attainment in this world of all worldly wishes, as, for example, the fertility of lands, abundant wealth, abundance of children. . . . The holders of this view point for proof to all the texts of Scripture which speak of blessings and curses and other matters, and to the whole body of narratives existing in Holy Writ.

• The fifth set of thinkers is the largest. Its members combine all the aforesaid opinions, and declare the objects hoped for are the coming of the Messiah, the resurrection of the dead, their entry into the Garden of Eden, their eating and drinking and living in health there as long as heaven and earth endure.[6]

Maimonides’ offers an interesting and truthful reflection of his personal views that are not so obvious from Maimonides’ other ideas. Much of Maimonides’ “Guide for the Perplexed” deals with the problems posed by poetic metaphors of the Bible, which tend to get read in literal rather than metaphorical terms. He further argues that the Sages spoke in a simple idiom aimed at making faith intelligible to the masses. Rather than criticizing the Sages for some of their more provocative statements, Maimonides takes aim his contemporaries who viewed biblical metaphors in the most literal fashion

• The worst offenders are preachers who preach and expound to the masses what they themselves do not understand. They ought to be silent about matters they do not know as it is written, “If you would only keep silent, that would be your wisdom!” (Job 13:5). It would be far more honest for them to admit “We don’t understand what precisely our Sages intended in this statement, we don’t know how to explain it.” Thinking that they do understand, they vigorously interpret to the people what they think rather than informing them of what the Sages actually said. They therefore give lectures to the masses on the Aggadic passages found in tractate Berakhot and chapter Helek [of Sanhedrin] which they interpret in the spirit of literalism. [7]

Continue Reading

Nothing threatens the closed Haredi (Ultra-Orthodox) communities like the world of the Internet. Many of us can remember a time when the Internet did not exist as an option for ordinary citizens to use.

Today, every man, woman, and child has access to a world of information that the ancients never imagined possible.

The lines that have traditionally defined the boundaries of religious communities are suddenly becoming increasingly porous. Walls that have long been intended to keep the “outsider” out, and maintain control over those who are “insiders,” are rapidly disappearing.

The Internet Age has made the hidden world of the Haredi/Hassidic communities even more visible to the outsiders. More seriously, the outside world and its enticements have penetrated the walls the Haredi ghetto, which has long been a terra incognita—an exotic realm that is full of endless possibilities and potential discoveries!

The reticence of Haredi communities to accept the Internet is understandable. The force fields that rabbis have constructed over the centuries are dissolving. The modern world is encroaching upon their territory . . . What’s a poor Haredi rabbi to do?

Perhaps an interesting solution can be drawn from history.

Legend has it that when Alexander the Great arrived at the Phrygian city of Gordium, there was a famous knot that nobody knew how to undo. For Alexander, the solution was simple and obvious: with one stroke of his sword, he cut the knot. Henceforth, to cut the “Gordian Knot,” is to make a quick and decisive decision that instantly resolves an issue.

More and more Haredi rabbis are resorting to the problems posed by the Internet by making a simple proclamation: Ban it! In some rabbinical schools, the rabbis have special parties for breaking any cell-phone that has wireless services.

According to the Yeshiva World News, one prominent Haredi rabbi, R. Chayim Kanievsky, wrote a letter admonishing his followers to prefer martyrdom than use the Internet.[1] Rav Kanievsky is quoted by the newspaper HaMevaser as saying, “There is no excuse to permit the Internet for those claiming it is essential for a livelihood since rabbonim (rabbis) have already ruled the threats that are associated with the Internet are simply too great and one must simply distance oneself from it . . . even after filtering has been installed, there is no permission for having access to the Internet in one’s home, even for a livelihood . . .” He warned “Anyone who brings Internet into one’s home brings the yetzer hora (evil inclination) into the home.”

Among the Ultra-Orthodox, the chief objection to the Internet is the problem of pornography. Still, one must wonder: Surely there are Internet filters that can block any questionable website! Why are they making such a fuss? For the Haredi, any woman who does not follow the traditions of tsniut (modesty for women as defined by the Halacha) is also in the category of “pornographic.” Beyond that, even displaying a girl’s face-whether she be 2 or 80, violates the laws of modesty.

This writer suspects there is a deeper motivation at work here: There are numerous websites that have exposed many a shortcomings of the Haredi and Hassidic communities; the numbers of websites that are critical continue to grow.

Problems pertaining to thievery, fraud, pedophilia, racketeering, murder, and extortion—are but a few of the problems the Haredi leaders wish to hide from public viewing. Why? There are several reasons: (1) there is a perceived perception that hiding a problem will make it disappear from the public (2) many websites critical of the Haredi lifestyle might cause many people in their community to recognize the degree of dysfunction that exists among their rank and file members (3) Being accused of committing a crime is embarrassing to the family and the community (4) The more people know about the outside world, the more likely members will decide to leave the insular world they grew up in (5) Closing all communication with the outside world ensures that its leaders will maintain control over the masses.

Indeed, after their followers have been exposed to the Haredi scandals on the Internet, many people have chosen to leave their communities. At the very least, the endless stream of scandals creates cognitive dissonance. How could it not? My father often said to me as a child, “The only kind of person, who runs away from a policeman, is somebody that has something to hide. Live the honest life, you have nothing to fear.” When religious leaders attempt to hide the truth about their social problems from their followers, the truth will come out sooner or later.

The real issue boils down to a matter of censorship. “Looking good and pious” is extremely important for these cloistered societies and their leaders will move heaven and earth to keep their dysfunction away from public view. From their perspective, the Haredi community cannot survive in a modern age without somebody being in charge of hiding their secrets. In some ways, the Internet ought to be viewed as a good development for the Haredi communities because it will force their members to really “walk their talk,” and live more exemplary lives.

To my Haredi friends, please consider the following advice: Haredi Jews are not the only ones who have problems with the Internet—many people of all faiths and backgrounds are concerned about such an open-access highway of information.

There are many websites you would never want your children to have access to. But is the solution to ban the Internet, or is the solution much simpler: teach your children values that enhance personal respect toward others. Yes, this is a “simpler” way of cutting through the Gordian Knot, but in a lot of ways, it is much harder. For one thing, parents need to supervise their children’s web activity and there are numerous software programs that can provide parents with that kind of information.

However, the real challenge involves teaching by example. When children see parents living a moral and respectful life, the odds are their behavior is going to make a lasting positive effect upon their children’s character. Teaching kids to respect the voice of conscience may sound like a guilt trip to many, but from a Kantian perspective—conscience is the Voice of God that speaks within our souls. Learning to get in touch with that Voice is an excellent thing to do.

More importantly, the more you tantalize the forbidden by making verbal proclamations against using the Internet, the more likely you are going to tantalize the forbidden.

Years ago, comedian Bill Cosby offered a brilliant interpretation explaining the straightforward meaning of the text in a way that is clearer than most rabbinic and non-rabbinic commentaries:

Whenever your kids are out of control, you can take comfort from the thought that even God’s omnipotence did not extend to God’s kids. After creating heaven and earth, God created Adam and Eve. And the first thing he said was, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Adam replied.

“Don’t eat the forbidden fruit,” God said.

“Forbidden fruit?

We got forbidden fruit? Hey, Eve…we got forbidden fruit!”

“No way!”

“Don’t eat that fruit!” said God.

“Why?”

“Because I am your Father and I said so!” said God (wondering why he hadn’t stopped after making the elephants). A few minutes later God saw his kids having an apple break and was angry. “Didn’t I tell you not to eat the fruit?” God asked.

Continue Reading

The great 12th century Jewish philosopher Maimonides noted that although Job is described in the beginning as being a very upright and decent individual, the one characteristic he lacked was the quality of insight![1] In the beginning, Job feared God and did not act out of love. Despite Job’s devoted religious behavior, he did not have a personal religious experience. Maimonides suggests that much of Job’s own suffering was due to wrongful notions and beliefs he had regarding the ways of Providence. Much (but certainly not all) of human suffering is often attributed to the dysfunctional images people have inherited concerning God. Ignorance conditioned Job into thinking that he was a separate entity, apart from God pitted against a hostile world. Job’s ordeal represents the painful journey of all sufferers; for this reason Job’s transformation is most instructive.

In classical Maimonidean theology, the journey to God requires a purging of our preconceived images, sensory perceptions, and affective attachments—all that is not God. As we enter the “Dark Night of the Soul,” we are emptied of all preconceived “graven” images of faith we have held fast of. In the Dark Night, we experience loneliness and separateness. Darkness fills our intellects because our hearts yearn for something infinitely more satisfying than reason alone—God’s love. Amidst our pain, we yearn for friendship and companionship. As the days go by without so much as a Divine response, we feel restless, spiritually impotent, tired and discouraged. We feel as if our souls are caught within a maze that we will never escape. Worst still, we experience the bitterness and pain of feeling utterly abandoned by God and from humanity. From the depths of our being, we cry out that God should illumine our life with the radiance of the Shekhinah (Psa. 146:2).

Yet, we must not let despair or hopelessness have the final word; from out of these sufferings, we must choose to grow and develop a new response to faith based on our innate capacity to experience hope and love. Granted, this journey is certainly not something we willfully embark; rather God throws us into the darkness. In Kabbalistic terms, we enter into the mysterious realm of “Ayin” of Nothingness, to be reborn as a new creation (yesh m’ayin).[2] Job’s journey through the Dark Night changed him and his relationship with God, his family, and his community forever. Using today’s terms, we could say that Job had a profound religious experience. By the end of the story, Job exclaims:

I had heard of you by the

hearing of the ear,

but now my eye sees you;

Job 42:5

What did Job discover? According to Rashi, Job received a revelation of God’s Shekhinah (Divine immanence). The Shekhinah represents the maternal nurturing Presence of God. Yet the Shekhinah’s appearance is not an unconditional thing. Human behavior determines to what degree God’s feminine Presence is revealed in the world. Every action of compassion and justice reveals God’s immanence in the world. All of Job’s friends consistently portrayed God in solely masculine terms (and dysfunctional masculinity at best!). After he experiences God’s immanence, Job feels his heart filled with love; he became reconciled with his human mortality. Whereas others spoke about God, Job in the end experienced God’s majestic Presence. He came to see that all God-talk pales before the actual experience of God’s Shekhinah. Job discovered an interconnectedness that weaves all aspects of creation together. It is the Shekhinah’s love that keeps the world intact despite itself. Job came to the realization that at the core of human suffering is the delusion that one is separate from God. It is humanity’s grandest illusion that situates God against His Creation.

Does God really have a “memory”? If we say that God indeed has a “memory,” are there times when God also “forgets,” or is absent-minded? From a Maimonidean perspective, such a metaphor must be understood in terms of negative theology, i.e., to say that God has a “memory,” this is simply another way of saying that God is not indifferent to our existence. With this thought in mind, let us examine the verse in Genesis 8:1:

8:1 וַיִּזְכֹּר אֱלֹהִים אֶת־נֹחַ וְאֵת כָּל־הַחַיָּה וְאֶת־כָּל־הַבְּהֵמָה אֲשֶׁר אִתּוֹ בַּתֵּבָה - But God remembered Noah and all the wild animals and all the domestic animals that were with him in the ark. – Like all other anthropomorphisms, the concept of God’s “memory” is a distinctively human way of saying that God is “mindful” of Creation; such language is really spoken from the human perspective for the Torah speaks in the language of humankind. God’s memory is the basis of life. This ancient intuition when narrated from the human perspective depicts a time when humanity and the animal world coexisted at the dawn of creation. It was this paradisiacal image of a world that lived in harmony that evoked God’s “memory.”[1] From a metaphysical perspective, every fiber of the cosmos exists continuously as a figment of God’s consciousness, hence is an immortal part of God’s cosmic “memory.”

Ramban limits the metaphor of God “remembering” as pertaining to humankind and not to the kingdom of animals. God’s “remembrance” pertains to something capable of attaining virtue because animals have no moral freedom; they are remembered not for their own sake, but for the sake of humankind.[2] To say “God remembered Noah and all the wild animals and all the domestic animals that were with him in the ark” means that God remembered His plan that the world should continue with the same varieties of animal life that it had before.

Ramban’s reasoning is consistent with his anthropocentric theological belief that God’s concern centers on humankind, and not nature — a view which Maimonides rejects.[3] One must really question the internal logic of Ramban’s thesis. Many biblical passages indicate that God’s “memory” is gratuitous in nature, and it is not always conditional upon human choice or behavior; moreover, it extends bio-centrically through all Creation. God’s memory for the animal kingdom stems from the love God feels toward His creatures: “Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, your justice like the ocean depths. You care for people and animals alike, O Lord” (Psa. 36:7, MT).

Indeed, many of the various laws in the Torah aim at preventing unnecessary suffering of God’s creatures. Thus we find in the Book of Jonah how Jonah discovered that part of God’s reticence to destroy the city of Nineveh was because of the animal population that dwelled there (Jonah 4:11).

Ramban’s observation also goes against one Midrashic view that purports that God saved humankind because of the animal world—that were it not for the animal world, humankind would have been doomed to extinction![4] In the same chapter, the Midrash points out that the idea of God’s “remembering” humankind and animals alike is found in Psalm 145:9: “The LORD is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made.”

R. Joshua b. Levi paraphrased this as: The Lord is good to all, and His tender mercies are over all, because they are His works. R. Samuel b. Nahman interprets “The LORD is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made,” is because it is His nature to be compassionate (Gen. Rabba 33:3).

Notes:

[1] Commentaries past and present debate what may have precipitated God’s “memory.” Ibn Ezra sees in this passage an allusion to the covenant God had made earlier with Noah (6:18). Cassuto takes exception to Ibn Ezra’s view that remembrance is expressly associated with the covenant (6:18) for the verse does not say that “He remembered the covenant that He made with Noah” but rather “God remembered Noah . . .”

[2] Ramban’s commentary differs from Rashi who felt that animals are in some small measure “morally” accountable for their behavior.

[3] Ramban wrote, “The sundry laws pertaining to preventing cruelty towards animals were legislated not because God was concerned with the pain of the animal world, but in order to teach humanity the importance of acting mercifully towards Creation.” Ramban’s view stands in stark contrast with Maimonides, who argues that these precepts aim to help humankind become more sensitive to the pain of animals (Guide 3:26, 48). Maimonides notes: “It is prohibited to slaughter an animal with its young on the same day. This is in order that people should be constrained and discouraged from slaughtering them in such a manner that the young is slain in the sight of its mother, for the pain animals experience is considerable. There is no difference whether it is man or animal alike, for the love and tenderness a mother shows its young is not a matter of intelligence — it is instinctual and emotional. Not only does this faculty exist in humankind, it also is the endowment of most creatures. . . .” In a long polemic, Ramban took Maimonides to task, observing “So too, what the Rabbis have stated (BT Berakhot 33b), ‘Because he treats the ordinances of God like expressions of mercy, whereas they are decrees,’ i.e., it was not a matter of God’s mercy extending to the bird’s nest or the dam and its young, since His mercies did not extend so far into animal life as to prevent us from accomplishing our needs with them, for if that were so, He would have forbidden slaughter altogether. But the purpose for the prohibition [against taking the dam with its nest or against killing the dam with its young in one day] is to teach us the trait of compassion and that we should not be cruel” (Commentary to Deut, 22:6, Chavel’s translation). Continue Reading

Is the origin of the creatio ex nihilo doctrine truly a post-biblical theological concept introduced during the Hellenistic era, as many scholars in the last hundred years wish to assert? The Tanakh itself does not speak of such an explicit philosophical idea; in fact, it appears for the first time in 2 Maccabees 7:28, in a text written in Greek and originating in the 2^nd century B.C.E. In this famous passage, a mother pleads with her son who is about to be executed for his faith, exclaiming: “I beg you, child, to look at the heavens and the earth and see all that is in them; then you will know that God did not make them out of existing things; (οὐκ ἐξ ὄντων ἐποίησεν - ouk ex onton epoiesen), and in the same way the human race came into existence” (NAB). That is to say, the same God that creates the universe out of nothingness also possesses the power to raise a person from the ashes and non-being of death. It seems highly unlikely that such a story would not have also been based on a common attitude that Jews subscribed to for many, many centuries, nor is it a huge conceptual leap for those already believing that God created the universe!

Another one of the oldest references to the doctrine of creatio ex nihilo comes from the Letter of Aristeas, which is believed to have been written sometime between 150-100 and 1^st century B.C.E., and records: “For it would be utterly foolish to suppose that anyone became a god in virtue of his inventions. For the inventors simply took certain objects already created and by combining them together, showed that they possessed a fresh utility: they did not themselves create the substance of the thing.” [1]

On the other hand, a different perspective appears in The Wisdom of Solomon, a work believed to have originated between the 3^rd century B.C.E. and the early 1^st century C.E. The author was very adept in Judaic and Greek thought, and expresses the biblical story of Creation in terms that appear in Plato’s Timaeus,[2] “And indeed Your all-powerful hand which created the world from formless matter . . .” (καὶ κτίσασα τὸν κόσμον ἐξ ἀμόρφου ὕλης—kai katisasa ton kosmon ex amorthou hyles). It is commonly assumed that the author was referring to Genesis 1:1; however, the author may have been referring to Genesis 1:2 and not 1:1!

From Philo of Alexandria’s writings, it is unclear whether he actually subscribes to creatio ex nihilo or not. Some argue that Philo believes that God created all things—including the pre-existing matter—from nothing.[3] Subsequently, once the creative process begins, God acts more like an Artist than an actual Creator by utilizing the raw materials that already exist. Others read Philo differently, contending that Philo does not believe in creatio ex nihilo[4], and that his theological position derives from Plato and Aristotle. As Wolfson observes, the difference in perspective may have been attributed to Philo’s listening audience. To those of a Platonic mindset, Philo “Platonizes” his doctrine; to those more traditionally oriented, he emphasizes the doctrine of creatio-ex nihilo. It may well be that Philo sees no theological or philosophical problem with either viewpoint—provided it is properly articulated. Alternatively, Philo may have personally hedged on this issue at different stages of his thinking.[5]

Alternatively, Josephus is a different matter, he substitutes the verb ἔκτισεν (ektisen = “created”) in place of the Septuagint’s ἐποίησεν (epoiēsen, “made”). With this alteration, Josephus makes it obvious to his readers that God continuously creates the world ex nihilo and has no need to form it out of preexistent matter.[6] One famous Midrash records a discussion between a Gnostic philosopher and R. Gamaliel (1^st century C.E.), who uses an intratextual approach in explaining the opening lines of the Genesis creation narrative:

• “Your God was indeed a great artist, but surely He utilized good materials that assisted Him!” Rabbi Gamaliel asked: “And what do you think they are?” He replied, “Tohu, bohu, darkness, water, wind (ruah), and the deep.” Rabbi Gamaliel exclaimed, “Woe to that man . . .” while adding, “The term creation is used by Scripture in connection with all of them. Regarding tohu and bohu is written, “I make peace and create evil” (Isa. 55: 7).[7] Concerning darkness is written, “I form the light, and create darkness” (ibid.). Concerning the creation of water, is written, “Praise him, you highest heavens, and you waters above the heavens! (Ps. 148: 4) How so? “For He commanded, and they were created” (ibid. 5); concerning wind is written, “For lo, the one who forms the mountains, creates the wind . . . (Amos 4:13); and concerning the depths is written, “When there were no depths I was brought forth, when there were no springs abounding with water. (Prov. 8: 24).[8]

This pagan philosopher of the Midrash expresses a thought that is reminiscent of a comment made by a second century Neo-Pythagorean philosopher named Numenius, who sought to demonstrate how the wisdom of Pythagoras and Plato could be found in the Torah of the Jews. Numenius has been often quoted as saying, “What else is Plato but Moses speaking Attic Greek?” [9] Like the Midrash of the pagan philosopher, the story of God creating the world from pre-eternal matter seems compatible with the teachings of Plato.

One might wonder why the doctrine of creatio ex nihilo is not widely discussed in the Talmud itself, however, the rabbis were certainly familiar with much of the philosophical and Gnostic speculation concerning the universe’s cosmology, and they felt this was not a topic that ought to be discussed in public. The study of philosophy was considered to be potentially dangerous, thus it was to be avoided. The Ma’aseh Berashit (“The Work of Creation”) was not to be studied in the academies or in public.[10] Still and all, the cosmology of Genesis does find occasional expression in the Midrashic literature. Recorded in a 3^rd century Midrashic text, R. Yochananand Resh Lakish discussed the difference between a human and divine creativity.

• R. Yochanan said: When a mortal king builds a palace, after having built the lower stories he builds the upper ones; but the Holy One, blessed be He, created the upper stories and the lower stories within a single act. R. Simeon b. Lakish said: When a human being builds a ship, first he brings the beams, then the ropes; after this he procures the anchors, and then erects the masts. But the Blessed Holy One, created them [i.e., heaven and earth] and their crew, as it is written, “Thus says God the LORD, Who created the heavens and stretched them out”—we-notehem (Isa. XLII, 5); this is written we-nawtehem (“and their mariners”).[11]

Although the proof text of Resh Lakish is not at all grammatically convincing, the theological point both these Sages make is a valid one: both stress the sheer novelty in how God creates the world—with complete simultaneity in accordance with His will. Continue Reading

Once upon a time, some American tourists went to Mexico on a vacation; they toured some hot springs, where they saw the natives washing their clothes! One tourist said to his guide, “My, isn’t it wonderful how Mother Nature provides her children with hot water to wash their clothes?” The tour-guide replied, “So you might think, Senor, but the natives complain that Mother Nature doesn’t provide the soap!”

It’s been said that the hardest arithmetic to master is that which enables us to count our blessings. Chinese wisdom teaches, “When you drink from the stream remember the spring.”

Research has shown that people who regularly practiced grateful thinking were more than 25 percent happier, slept better, suffered lower levels of stress and even spent more time exercising. People sure like to complain. Kvetching is—for many—a national pastime, yet complaining tends to diminish the quality of our lives and relationships. According to one recent author, who wrote a book on gratefulness, Prof. Richard Emmons explains that” Preliminary findings suggest that those who regularly practice grateful thinking do reap emotional, physical, and interpersonal benefits. [...] Grateful people experience higher levels of positive emotions such as joy, enthusiasm, love, happiness, and optimism [...] The practice of gratitude as a discipline protects a person from the destructive impulses of envy, resentment, greed, and bitterness.”

Cultivating an attitude of gratitude is a lot harder than it might seem. When we contemplate the economic problems of our society today, it is easy to get depressed. For a young family that loses a home, or a job, the economic and psychological effects can be devastating. The idea of offering thanksgiving might even strike one as cynical. Some of you are probably familiar with Bart Simpson’s famous Thanksgiving quip, “Dear God, we paid for all this stuff ourselves, so thanks for nothing.” I fear that Bart Simpson’s remark probably reflects the contemporary attitudes we often hear in our society.

One day of Thanksgiving will not solve all the problems of the world. Suffering has always been a part of the human condition throughout recorded history. As Rabbi Harold Kushner has pointed out, there’s never been a time in which bad things didn’t happen to good people.

The pilgrims experienced enough hardship to leave them demoralized. When they first began their colony, they were propelled by the strength of their dreams. Despite the bitter winter storms that threatened their fledgling community, they did not give hope. They sat for three days, feasting, rejoicing and grateful for what they had. Rejuvenated, they made it through that first winter, and another, and another — just as our immigrant ancestors who left the Old Country did.

Thanksgiving beckons us to see the cup as half-full, as we focus upon the many blessings we experience daily. The name “Jew,” comes from the root which means “to give thanks,” and that is what our tradition teaches us in so many ways. We expect to wake up in the morning and expect to be healthy, but when we receive a diagnosis that we have an illness, suddenly we appreciate and recognize what we have now lost. There is a quality of mindfulness that we must always have when it comes to being thankful for all of God’s gifts.

As rabbis, we often see people living on the ragged edge of life. Today’s economic problems impact the lives of many people we know. The human face demands that we treat that unfamiliar person with kindness and compassion. When in doubt, it is much better to err on the side of compassion.

The Judaic meaning of gratitude must go beyond the mere recognition of God’s countless blessings we experience in our lives. What exactly does “thanksgiving” mean? Thanksgiving comes from two words, “thanks,” and “giving.” True thanksgiving involves a willingness to share God’s blessings and create blessing in the lives of others around us. By creating blessing for others, we reveal that we are not choosing to live in a state of scarcity and want. By opening our hearts to the pain of our brothers and sisters, we are infusing them with a feeling of hopefulness for a better tomorrow.

For many, the yearly community service — helping in a soup kitchen, delivering canned goods to the needy, sick or elderly — has been fulfilled, and they can feel gratified in knowing they’ve done a good deed for others.

I am reminded of a comment I once heard about Thanksgiving, from the Jay Leno Show, concerning the human condition. Leno noted how on Thanksgiving, restaurants give away free meals, soup kitchens pop up all over the place, all kinds of groups provide all kinds of food to the poor. But, Leno pointed out, for the most part, all those who help out do so only on Thanksgiving. “We give these people one big meal a year, really stuff them and tell them, “That oughta hold you. See you next Thanksgiving.’”

We’ve said our thanks, counted our blessings and passed the peas, along with the candied yams. Thanksgiving is over, and as soon as the holidays are out of the way, we can get back to our lives. Why do so many of us relegate thoughts of thankfulness and limit kindly-acts to a single day, or a single season? Continue Reading

Thanks to the Kabbalah Center, the study of Kabbalah has become very well-known throughout much of the Americana landscape. Kabbalah represents the esoteric part of Judaism that tries to understand and articulate the great chain of being (to quote Arthur Lovejoy).

Please don’t get me wrong. I think the Kabbalah Center’s marketing is brilliant; I also think Rabbi Berg and his sons have done a fine job distilling Kabbalah to a general audience—up to a point. On the other hand, the Kabbalah center is run like a business, and its leaders know how to schnorer money—large sums in fact—from its glassy eyed followers.

To the Kabbalah Center’s credit, they have done a masterful job in drawing some of the largest crowds in all of Los Angeles to their weekly services—certainly no small feat. Surprisingly, they stream their services for a live broadcast for people all over the world who are interested in participating in the weekly services. A good friend of mine, is one of many who participate at this electronic minyan.

That being said, one of disturbing things about the popularization of the Kabbalah in general (without casting stones at any one organization), is the tendency for many pseudo-scholars of Kabbalah to merchandize the Kabbalah for personal profit and fame. One Israeli Kabbalist, Rabbi Yosef Pinto charged the basketball star Lebron James a six-figure sum for his Kabbalistic advice. Give me a break. James may be a fantastic basketball player, but he is getting ripped off by one of many Kabbalistic shysters who have perpetuated this myth that they are privy to a secret esoteric wisdom that all the other poor demented fools of the world are not privy to.

As a congregational rabbi, I have seen these types of phonies come and go; they love to pontificate about the wonders of Kabbalah—or should I say, “McMysticism.” For those of you unfamiliar with my term, here is a short definition: You would never confuse the fast-food world of McDonalds with a real restaurant or bistro known for its fine dining.

The same can and ought to be said about the Kabbalah.

Most of the Kabbalah handbooks and guides written about the Kabbalah by people who do not even know how to read an original Kabbalistic text, much less know how to translate it properly into lucid English prose. Or take for example, Rabbi David Batzri: Here’s a tech-savvy exorcist who recently attempted the world’s first exorcism via Skype. [See my earlier piece on this telephonic Kabbalist) His father, R. Yitzchak Batzri and his host of other rabbis, decided to fly over Israel and say some prayers designed to prevent the spread of swine Flu from spreading in Israel.

On the other hand, there are some Kabbalists like Abraham Isaac Kook, whose words are so beautiful and lyrical; one can easily see that Jewish mysticism can be uplifting and personally transforming. The same may be said of the 20^th century Jewish moralist, R. Eliyahu Dessler, who often makes use of Kabbalistic motifs that have practical significance. Martin Buber’s genius can be seen in how he simplifies the Hassidic message in a way that is both transpersonal and inspiring.

How can you tell a real Kabbalist from a pretender?

• For one thing, a true Kabbalist will not perpetuate the myth that he is a Jewish guru and that you are nothing more than one of his mindless drones.

• A real Kabbalist will help you get in touch with your own inner truth through the imagery of Jewish mysticism.

• A real Kabbalist does not live for the photo-op, nor does he perpetuate infomercials about his methodology in the name of God and capitalism.
• A real Kabbalist could care less about the celebrities he hangs out with.

In sum, Kabbalistic wisdom is a lot like Mother Goose’s nursery rhyme about “The Girl with the Curl.”

There was a little girl who had a little curl

Right in the middle of her forehead;

When she was good, she was very, very good,

And when she was bad she was horrid.

The same can be said about the Kabbalah: Continue Reading

Rabbi Eliezer Silver (1882-1968) proved to be one the greatest rescuers of European Jewry during the Holocaust. He is credited with saving many thousands of Jewish lives. Early on in 1939, Silver was one of the founding fathers of the Vaad Hatzalah (Rescue Committee), where Silver was appointed as its president. He was instrumental in rescuing the cream of European rabbinic leaders, who along with Rabbis Aaron Kotler, Abraham Kalmanowitz marched up Pennsylvanian Avenue on October 6, 1943.

While standing in front of the White House, the large Jewish entourage over 200 rabbis recited the Psalms and announced, “We pray and appeal to the Lord, blessed be He, that our most gracious President, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, recognizing this momentous hour of history and responsibility that the Divine Presence has laid upon him, that he may save the remnant of the People of the Book, the People of Israel.”

Shortly afterwards, the Jewish delegation met with Vice President Henry Wallace and a congressional delegation to make their case for European Jewry. Later, at the Lincoln Memorial, a special memorial prayer was said on behalf of the martyred Jews. Finally, the five rabbis went to the White House to meet with the President, where the President made his famous backdoor exit rather than meeting with them. Although they did not meet with the President, the publicity of the march led to the eventual formulation of the War Refugees Board that opened the doorway for over 100,000 Jews.

After the event, Rabbi Silver raised over $5,000,000 for the new immigrants and secured over 2,000 emergency visas for the Jewish refugees. Like Rabbi Michael Weissmandl, Rabbi Eliezer Silver utilized every means available to bribe officials in Europe and in Latin America, to help settle Jews in the United States, Canada, Mexico, and Palestine. Foreign diplomats provided the fake visas to help facilitate the rescue. He even attempted to trade concentration camp prisoners for cash and tractors, resulting in the release of hundreds of Jews from the Bergen Belsen concentration camps along with several others.

Rabbi Silver, felt driven by the biblical admonition against standing idly by a brother’s blood, and he made no apologies for violating the Trading with the Enemy Act. In one of his most famous letters, he writes:

• We are ready to pay ransom for Jews and deliver them from concentration camps with the help of forged passports. We are prepared to violate many laws in order to save lives. We do not hesitate to deal with counterfeiters and passport thieves. We are ready to smuggle Jewish children over the borders, and to engage expert smugglers for this purpose, rogues whose profession this is. We are ready to smuggle money illegally into enemy territory in order to bribe those dregs of humanity, the killers of the Jewish people![1]

Even after the war was over, Rabbi Silver continued to help bring the refugees over from over eight European nations. In the end, he died penniless after using all of his monies to help pave the way for Jewish immigration to the United States and Israel, who were trying to flee from Communism.

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Notes:

[1] Amos Bunim, A Fire in His Soul: Irving M. Bunim, 1901-1980: The Man and His Impact on American Orthodox Jewry (New York: Feldheim Publishers, 1989), 136.