Beth Shemesh’s “Family Values”

Every child comes into a world that is not of his or her own making. Our parents instill inside of us values that structure and guide our lives. We learn not only by what our parents verbally teach us, we also learn by their behavior. Children are much like clay; they watch how we interact with others; they observe the moral choices that we make, and our children mirror those same values to other children in their schools and communities.

A principal I once worked with for many years ago, when I worked as a Hebrew day school Talmud teacher, once said, “There are no illegitimate children—only illegitimate parents.” Unfortunately, children suffer for the sins of their parents. When perverse behavior occurs on the local level, the police, leaders, and especially the town’s spiritual leaders have a duty to speak out. The failure not to do so can only mean complicity.

In the news from Israel today, Rabbi Yosef Shalom Eliyashiv—a man who has been privileged to reach 100 years in his long life—has condemned an Orthodox based magazine called, Mishpacha Magazine” because Eliyashiv claims, “it distorts and obscures” the Torah. Of course, he was not alone. Haredi-Hassidic rabbis in Williamsburg, Brooklyn banned Mishpacha along with Hamodia and Bina.

What’s so treif about Mishpacha? For one thing, its writers are not afraid to talk about the real issues affecting the Orthodox Jewish community. Some of the topics in this fine periodical include: “Why do Orthodox young people stray from Orthodoxy?”, or “The Challenge of Technology and Raising Children,” Mispacha Magazine has been very critical of the “Haredi Spring of Beit Shemesh,” or, “Haredim Who Choose To Seek Employment Face Unexpected Obstacle”, or, “Israel – Army Rabbi Vows to Keep Extremist Jewish Behavior Out of IDFs” are but a few of the tantalizing topics one can find in this bold Orthodox magazine that is willing to ask hard questions.

The writers demand reflectivity and when confronted by self-righteous leaders who are lost in another world that time has long forgotten, they do what religious fanatics have always done in the face of criticism and moral accountability—they censure points of view they find threatening.

Here is what I find most disturbing about Rabbi Eliyashiv: he behaves like someone who has no moral conscience. One cannot expect an average citizen to act with nobility, but the truth is many righteous gentiles did exactly that during WWII and rescued many of our people. Somehow, I cannot for the life of me imagine that Rabbi Eliyashiv would lift a finger to do anything kind for a person in trouble.

How hard would it be for this Haredi “Gadol” (“Great One”) to speak out against the thugs of Beth Shemesh who threaten and harm small children? How hard would it be for Rabbi Eliyashiv to condemn children who attack wheel-chaired bound children who use their electric wheel-chairs on the Sabbath?

Not a word. Instead of following in the footsteps of Aaron, who “loved peace, and pursued peace,” Rabbi Eliyashiv fancies himself as a modern-day Pinchas. Continue Reading

“[C]ompass sea and land to make one proselyte” — Early Jewish Proselytizing in Late Antiquity

As we mentioned above, the Jewish vision of Alexandria was original and unique, until early Christianity co-opted this vision and made it their own.

If you look at Judaic history, you will find that Judaism actually tried to make Judaism more spiritually appealing to the non-Jewish world. One of the first attempts at making Judaism more universal occurred when the Jews of Alexandria first translated the Bible into Greek. The end-product of this venture was a literary masterpiece known as the “Septuagint,” deriving from the Greek word “seventy,” named after the seventy elders who helped articulate Moses’ message to the people after the revelation at Mt. Sinai.

From the view of its original team of translators, these Alexandrian Jewish scholars believed that the translation of the Bible would serve to not only make the Bible more understandable to predominantly Greek speaking Jewish audience, it would also serve to make Judaism more intelligible and respectable to the gentile community.

But there may have been a more subtle goal. More than anything else the Alexandrian Jewish leaders wanted to promote an image of Judaism that did not suffer from parochialism. These men possessed a global-minded vision of Judaism as an international faith that could attract the best minds of the Hellenistic and pagan worlds. They believed that as a universal faith, Judaism could unite all the families of humankind. In fact, many Greeks came to embrace Judaism as their new faith. If you examine many of the rabbinic names in the first century C.E., there are quite a number of Greek sounding names, e.g., Antigonous, Alexander, Dosa, and Onkelos–attesting to the fact that Judaism expanded its population growth in the days of Late Antiquity by welcoming proselytes.

Philo of Alexandria, Judaism’s greatest Jewish philosopher of the first century (an older contemporary of Jesus), used the Septuagint to expound the message of ethical monotheism that is the foundation of Jewish ethics and theology.

Just imagine what a curious non-Jew must have thought when he heard Philo expound these famous words in his short but poignant work, “Nobility.” In this pericope, Philo stresses the importance of equal treatment of the outsider who comes to embrace the Judaic faith; the mark of the pious man is not “good birth,” but rather the individual’s virtue. Anyone familiar with the biblical narratives knows that even some of the greatest men of antiquity often sired sons like Cain, Ham, Esau, and others. In short, if Abraham could become a convert to the monotheistic belief in an ethical God, then surely other people could also make that same decision. In his closing paragraph, Philo adds:

  • We should, therefore, blame those who spuriously appropriate as their own merit what they derive from others, good birth; and they should justly be regarded as enemies not only of the Jewish race, but of all mankind; of the Jewish race, because they engender indifference in their brethren, so that they despise the righteous life in their reliance upon their ancestors’ virtue; and of the Gentiles, because they would not allow them their need of reward even though they attain to the highest excellence of conduct, simply because they have not commendable ancestors. I know not if there could be a more pernicious doctrine than this: that there is no punishment for the wicked offspring of good parents, and no reward for the good offspring of evil parents. The law judges each man upon his own merit, and does not assign praise or blame according to the virtues of the forefathers.[1]

There can be no doubt that Philo envisioned a day when Judaism would win the hearts of humankind, and would eventually prove to truly become a light unto the nations of the world, as Isaiah foretold (Isaiah 49:6).

The NT bears witness to the phenomena of Jewish proselytizing and one can easily see how early Christianity incorporated much of first century’s Jewish activity, making it a part of their own modus operandi. The Gospels attest that the Pharisees “compass sea and land to make one proselyte” (Matt. 23:15). Most Christian scholars see this passage as a rhetorical exaggeration,[2] but one must seriously wonder whether this observation is indeed correct. Josephus himself observes that Judaism in his day appealed to Greek and barbarian cities alike.

Historians observe the even in the centuries that followed the great destruction of the Temple, 10% of the Roman population was Jewish—an astounding statistic! Based on the number of Jewish catacombs found in Rome, there were about 100,000 Jews who had either settled or converted to Judaism in the early centuries both before and after the Common Era. [3]

Judging from the literature of that era, one may surmise that the Roman population probably found the Jews to be an intriguing ethnic group in their encounters. The Romans, much like Americans today, probably found the Shabbat discussions on the Torah to be interesting and provocative. The Jewish community proved to be cordial and hospitable with their Latin and Greek speaking guests. The intellectual ambiance evidently attracted many new converts to the faith. The early Christian church once had some real competition from the Jewish community—of all people!

Roman philosophers, writers, and politicians often complained about how the conquered people of Judea behaved more like the conquerors! According to the Roman historian Tacitus, he was very disturbed at the proselytizing efforts made by Jews which he regarded as a threat to the Empire. One Roman Empress, Poppaea Augusta Sabina (the second wife of Emperor Nero) was a close friend of Josephus and she is credited with building a synagogue; in addition, contrary to Roman custom, she was buried instead of cremated—more in line with Jewish tradition.[4]

The Roman satirist Juvenal (60-130 C.E.), likewise expresses outrage at the spread of Jewish families among the aristocracy of Rome. He regarded Judaism as a mystery religion, and believed the Jews worshiped the clouds on the Sabbath. The Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca and adviser to Emperor Nero was hardly any better and noted, “ The customs of this accursed race have gained such influence that they are now received throughout the world. The vanquished have given laws to their victors.”[5] Some Roman thinkers considered Judaism on par with atheism since the God of Judaism is not visible.

As mentioned before in the “Groucho Marx Syndrome” posting, the time has come for modern rabbis to let go of the traumatized memories of Late Antiquity. In an open society, Judaism can greatly benefit from the energy, passion, and love of Judaism that so many of today’s Jews by Choice possess. In my Shul, over 40% are dedicated Jews by Choice. Anyone interested in learning about Judaism, feel free to contact me by sending me an email at this website.

For every Jew-by-Choice I welcome, I feel as a rabbi I am recovering lost souls taken away from us by Hitler and his eternal legion of Hitler-wannabees.

====== Continue Reading

Incident at Beth Shemesh: Late Hanukkah Reflections . . . (Updated 12-30-11)

As we mentioned above, the Jewish vision of Alexandria was original and unique, until early Christianity co-opted this vision and made it their own.

If you look at Judaic history, you will find that Judaism actually tried to make Judaism more spiritually appealing to the non-Jewish world. One of the first attempts at making Judaism more universal occurred when the Jews of Alexandria first translated the Bible into Greek. The end-product of this venture was a literary masterpiece known as the “Septuagint,” deriving from the Greek word “seventy,” named after the seventy elders who helped articulate Moses’ message to the people after the revelation at Mt. Sinai.

From the view of its original team of translators, these Alexandrian Jewish scholars believed that the translation of the Bible would serve to not only make the Bible more understandable to predominantly Greek speaking Jewish audience, it would also serve to make Judaism more intelligible and respectable to the gentile community.

But there may have been a more subtle goal. More than anything else the Alexandrian Jewish leaders wanted to promote an image of Judaism that did not suffer from parochialism. These men possessed a global-minded vision of Judaism as an international faith that could attract the best minds of the Hellenistic and pagan worlds. They believed that as a universal faith, Judaism could unite all the families of humankind. In fact, many Greeks came to embrace Judaism as their new faith. If you examine many of the rabbinic names in the first century C.E., there are quite a number of Greek sounding names, e.g., Antigonous, Alexander, Dosa, and Onkelos–attesting to the fact that Judaism expanded its population growth in the days of Late Antiquity by welcoming proselytes.

Philo of Alexandria, Judaism’s greatest Jewish philosopher of the first century (an older contemporary of Jesus), used the Septuagint to expound the message of ethical monotheism that is the foundation of Jewish ethics and theology.

Just imagine what a curious non-Jew must have thought when he heard Philo expound these famous words in his short but poignant work, “Nobility.” In this pericope, Philo stresses the importance of equal treatment of the outsider who comes to embrace the Judaic faith; the mark of the pious man is not “good birth,” but rather the individual’s virtue. Anyone familiar with the biblical narratives knows that even some of the greatest men of antiquity often sired sons like Cain, Ham, Esau, and others. In short, if Abraham could become a convert to the monotheistic belief in an ethical God, then surely other people could also make that same decision. In his closing paragraph, Philo adds:

  • We should, therefore, blame those who spuriously appropriate as their own merit what they derive from others, good birth; and they should justly be regarded as enemies not only of the Jewish race, but of all mankind; of the Jewish race, because they engender indifference in their brethren, so that they despise the righteous life in their reliance upon their ancestors’ virtue; and of the Gentiles, because they would not allow them their need of reward even though they attain to the highest excellence of conduct, simply because they have not commendable ancestors. I know not if there could be a more pernicious doctrine than this: that there is no punishment for the wicked offspring of good parents, and no reward for the good offspring of evil parents. The law judges each man upon his own merit, and does not assign praise or blame according to the virtues of the forefathers.[1]

There can be no doubt that Philo envisioned a day when Judaism would win the hearts of humankind, and would eventually prove to truly become a light unto the nations of the world, as Isaiah foretold (Isaiah 49:6).

The NT bears witness to the phenomena of Jewish proselytizing and one can easily see how early Christianity incorporated much of first century’s Jewish activity, making it a part of their own modus operandi. The Gospels attest that the Pharisees “compass sea and land to make one proselyte” (Matt. 23:15). Most Christian scholars see this passage as a rhetorical exaggeration,[2] but one must seriously wonder whether this observation is indeed correct. Josephus himself observes that Judaism in his day appealed to Greek and barbarian cities alike.

Historians observe the even in the centuries that followed the great destruction of the Temple, Roman still found the message of Judaism appealing; 10% of the Roman population was Jewish—an astounding statistic! Based on the number of Jewish catacombs found in Rome, there were about 100,000 Jews who had either settled or converted to Judaism in the early centuries both before and after the Common Era.

Judging from the Latin literature of that era, one may surmise that the Roman population probably found the Jews to be an interesting ethnic group to encounter. The Romans, much like Americans today, probably found the Shabbat discussions on the Torah to be interesting and provocative. The Jewish community proved to be cordial and hospitable with their Latin and Greek speaking guests. The intellectual ambiance evidently attracted many new converts to the faith. The early Christian church once had some real competition from the Jewish community—of all people!

Roman philosophers, writers, and politicians often complained about how the conquered people of Judea behaved more like the conquerors! According to the Roman historian Tacitus, he was very disturbed at the proselytizing efforts made by Jews which he regarded as a threat to the Empire. One Roman Empress, Poppaea Augusta Sabina (the second wife of Emperor Nero) was a close friend of Josephus and she is credited with building a synagogue; in addition, contrary to Roman custom, she was buried instead of cremated—more in line with Jewish tradition.[3]

The Roman satirist Juvenal (60-130 C.E.), likewise expresses outrage at the spread of Jewish families among the aristocracy of Rome. He regarded Judaism as a mystery religion, and believed the Jews worshiped the clouds on the Sabbath. The Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca and adviser to Emperor Nero was hardly any better and noted, “ The customs of this accursed race have gained such influence that they are now received throughout the world. The vanquished have given laws to their victors.”[4] Some Roman thinkers considered Judaism on par with atheism since the God of Judaism is not visible.

As mentioned before in the “Groucho Marx Syndrome” posting, the time has come for modern rabbis to let go of the traumatized memories of Late Antiquity. In an open society, Judaism can greatly benefit from the energy, passion, and love of Judaism that so many of today’s Jews by Choice possess. In my Shul, over 40% are dedicated Jews by Choice. Anyone interested in learning about Judaism, feel free to contact me by sending me an email at this website.

For every Jew-by-Choice I welcome, I feel as a rabbi I am recovering lost souls taken away from us by Hitler and his eternal legion of Hitler-wannabees.

Notes:

[1] Philo, “On Nobility,” Virtues 206-222.

[2] S. McKnight, “A Light among the Gentiles: Jewish Missionary Activity in the Second Temple Period” (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1991).

[3] Menachem Sten, “Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism, Vol. 2″ (Jerusalem: Jerusalem Academic Press, 1980), 5.

[4] Cited from Louis H. Feldman, “Jew and Gentile in the Ancient World” (Princeton: Princeton, 1993), 491, n. 40.

Rabbinic Dissent vs. Aristotle’s Law of Non-Contradiction

One 16th century rabbinic scholar, Rabbi Eliezer Ashkenazi, exhibited integrity transcending the parochial world he inhabited, and called upon his readers to show an independence of thought that challenged the theological correctness of his era. His prescription for honesty and intellectual truthfulness can certainly apply to our own generation as well:

  • Neither should we be concerned about the logic of others—even if they preceded us—preventing our own individual investigation. Much to the contrary, just as [our forbearers] did not wish to indiscriminately accept the truth from those who preceded them, and that which they did not choose [to accept] they rejected, so it is fitting for us to do. Only on the basis of gathering many different opinions will the truth be tested. . . . Do not be dismayed by the names of the great personalities when you find them in disagreement with your beliefs; you must investigate and interpret, because for this purpose were you created, and wisdom was granted you from Above, and this will benefit you.[1]

From R. Ashkenazi’s opinion, one may surmise that the truth can always stand up to scrutiny. All the various approaches concerning the origin and redaction of the Pentateuch have much value and wisdom to impart. Early rabbinic exegetes deserve considerable credit for pointing out many textual anomalies that require clarification. Granted, many of the Midrashic answers given may not be grounded in a realistic understanding of the text, but the questions they raise regarding the text’s meaning are important. Conflicting interpretations—especially in a dialogical setting—frequently draw attention to nuances and ideas that one participant or interpreter may have overlooked or failed to take adequately into account. Conflicting interpretations also expand the text and force each participant to re-articulate earlier stated ideas that take into account the criticisms of the other side. In the midst of a discussion, one party may see truth in an oppositional point of view.

The need to occasionally acknowledge interpretive fallibility is an essential feature if one is to arrive at a truth. The absence of consensus is not a negative thing per se—in fact, quite the opposite. Contrary to Aristotle’s law of non-contradiction;[2] namely, “a thing and its opposite cannot both be true,”[3] rabbinic wisdom believes that truth is best served when contrarian interpretations challenge one another.[4] Truth is frequently discovered through a process of adversity and contradiction. Regardless how a person interprets a classical text like the Bible—or for that matter any great work of literature—there will always be somebody else who will interpret it differently. Disagreement is something that is not only endemic—it is inevitable. Whenever a new idea or approach is introduced, attention is drawn to aspects of a text that one might have overlooked or failed to take adequately into account. Arguments—whether they happen to be contrarian or supportive—force a person to modify an earlier stance. By the same token, one person’s ideas may have an equally powerful influence on someone else. While interpretation typically refines the next interpretation, controversy remains our constant companion.

How should one respond to this conundrum? If unanimity is really the goal, what incentive would there be for new interpretive ideas? Conversely, dissent is not necessarily indicative of a communications breakdown. Oftentimes a consensus of a people may be predicated upon an error (e.g., Ptolemy’s geo-centric view of the universe is but one obvious example). The desire to create a stable consensus can threaten to immobilize a person(s) or a society in error.

Dissent can be beneficial, and often leads to new discoveries and ideas. Moreover, dissent ensures that there will be some sort of accountability on the part of the originator. This would explain why peer review is a necessary process whenever new articles on any subject are introduced. A community of readers and interpreters create a network that produces alternative viewpoints worthy of reflective consideration. Differences of insight do not necessarily mean disagreement on the core issues of a story or discussion. Throughout Jewish and Christian exegetical traditions, rarely has there been a stable consensus. If this was the case in ancient times, why should it be any different today? The focus of scholarly dissent may change over time, but the fact of disagreement does not go away; indeed it is a necessary part of the learning process.

Every biblical commentary (to a greater or lesser extent) offers varying responses, often to the same question; at times they pose different questions and may also argue as to which questions ought to serve as the focal point of a discussion. The purpose of their commentaries is not to create a monologue with the reader but to stimulate a living dialogue for both the reader and his community. In light of this, we can boldly say that questioning the great interpreters of the past need not undermine faith; on the contrary, it has the potential of strengthening it. Conversely, the fear of new ideas in many ways undermines faith in the Divine message of the Torah. Perhaps one of the greatest gifts of the Socratic and Talmudic milieu to the Western world is the need to question everything that is believed to be the “truth.” The fluid nature of Judaic theology demonstrates a historical resiliency that has the innate ability to maintain its structural and spiritual integrity against any wave of modernity or textual criticism.

While Birth and Rebirth through Genesis: A Timeless Theological Conversation is primarily a theological exposition of biblical themes that are scattered throughout the chapters of Genesis, the title implies that it is also an exegetical work, intended to honor the nature of the peshat (the contextual meaning of the text)[5] with its rich history of intertexuality. The text is a nexus where ideas and thoughts of the past converge with the present and future. The exegetical component is extremely important, for good exegesis can provide a solid contextual basis for eisegetical insight and wisdom.


[1] Cited from Alan Dershowitz’s The Genesis of Justice (New York: Time Warner, 2000), 18-19. Continue Reading

The Sikrikim: Israel’s Kosher-Nostra

Like a bad penny, the problem will not go away. It doesn’t seem to matter what people say or do to prevent it. Beth Shemesh is a lot like a train-wreck that waiting to happen; actually, it has already happened, but the extent of the damage and casualties has yet to be determined.

Beth Shemesh continues to explode with internecine religious violence. Today, hundreds of Haredim are rioting in the streets. Bear in mind that many Haredi leaders have condemned the violence but they are frightened. One prominent Haredi leader, R. Minster Ya’acov Litzman is scared because he has received numerous death threats from Haredi extremists over the last few months. Litzman is not exactly a flaming liberal in the Haredi movement; in fact, he happens to be one of the most important leaders of the Agudat Yisrael and United Torah Judaism faction of the Knesset.

You might wonder: Who’s behind the violence? Who is instigating the violence seen in Beth Shemesh? Sources close to Litzman say the Sikrikim (Hebrew סיקריקים) are acting as the ringleaders in Beth Shemesh. Interior Minister of the Knesset Eli Yishai revealed that he too has received threats from the Sikrikim.

San Diego Jews might find it hard to grasp the subcultures and factions that exist within the Haredi movement itself.

You practically need a scorecard.

Some Haredi leaders are very pro-Zionist. Other Haredim like Chabad and Gur, pay their taxes and serve in the Israeli army but still would never describe itself as, “Zionistic.” Virtually all Hassidic groups share the common belief believe that only God and the Messiah can establish a true theocracy and “Jewish State.”

Some Hassidim take a much more militant approach to the State of modern Israel. One of the oldest Hassidic groups, known as the “Neturei Karta” (“Guardians of the City”) is no stranger to the modern Jew. They believe that God punished the Jews by unleashing a Holocaust for having accepted Zionism instead of waiting for the Messiah. This was the group who met with the Iranian leader Mahmoud Ahmadinejad a few years ago. The Sikrikim are actually an extremist breakaway faction from the ultra-Orthodox Neturei Karta and Gerrer Hassidic movements.

The name “Sikrikim” ought to be familiar one to anyone who has read the Talmudic account of how Jerusalem got destroyed. The Sicarri (literally, “dagger” men) were the Jewish zealots who attacked Rome, resulting in the expulsion of our people.

Today’s Sikrikim gangs are no less violent and extreme; they operate mostly in Jerusalem, where they have won international attention for their attacks on their fellow Gerrer Hassidic Jews. When they first began, their core group was said to be about a hundred, but their ability to attract others to their philosophy has greatly expanded their ranks, which are now in the hundreds. No Haredi politician can escape the Sikrikims’ attention and threats [1].

The Sikrikim recently attacked Chief Rabbi Yona Metzger with stones for attending a popular book store, Ohr Hachaim, which did not follow specific “modesty standards.” The owner refused, until the Sikrikim put glue in the locks and dumped human manure inside the store. Attacks on prominent rabbis may also explain why so many important Haredi leaders are reluctant to speak out. Finally, the owners agreed to post a large sign requesting that all customers dress modestly. In addition one of the Sikrikim supervisors made sure the store-owner had to remove all controversial books from the shelves.

A few months ago, the Sikrikim vandalized a popular ice-cream store (I remember visiting several years ago) in Me’ah She’arim. The store had video-games and it was one of the few places where young boys and girls could actually socialize. Well, the Haredim put an end to that benign activity. However, the Sikrikim didn’t like the fact the boys and girls could still share the same table. So, this past October, the Sikrikim left signs asking men and women to be seated separately, and not to eat in public. The Sikrikim asserted that licking ice-cream cones was “immodest.”[2] Later that night, they broke in and vandalized the store.[3]

If Freud were living, he would probably have a field day with the Haredim . . .

The owners hoped the police would arrest four of the assailants since they were videotaped. However, at first, the police refused to get involved. Only a handful of the Sikrikim have since then been arrested and charged.

More recently, this past October, the Religious Zionist Orot Banot Girls School opened up in Ramat Bet Shemesh only to be greeted by the Sikrikim, who stood outside the school on school days and taunted the students, throwing rocks at them, claiming that the girls were “immodestly” dressed. [4]

As I see it, the presence of the Kosher-nostra gangs would disappear if the Israeli government decided to really put its foot down. All of us need to contact the Israeli Consulate and write letters to the Knesset urging them to actively arrest these people and make them serve real hard time in prison. Once this happens, Haredi and secular alike will breathe a collective sigh of relief.

It is strange that the Sikrikim gangs would have chosen to choose a name from ancient Israel’s most violent group; had they prevented Rabbi Yochanan ben Zacai from escaping the city of Jerusalem, Judaism might very well have disappeared from history. It is a pity the Sikrikim syndicate has such a superficial grasp of Jewish history for had their spiritual forbearers (the Sicarri) killed Rabbi Yochanan, they would not exist!

=========

Notes:

[1] Gill Hoffman. “Hundreds of haredim riot in Beit Shemesh.” Jerusalem Post, 2011-11-29.

[2]“Ultra-strict Jewish sect trashes ice cream parlour claiming licking cones in public promotes promiscuity.” The Daily Mail. 2011-10-18.

[3] Lubell Maayan, (2011-4-22). “Religious zealots attack “immodest” Jerusalem shops”. Reuters.

[4] Alison Kaplan Somer, “American enclave stands up to extremists”, The Jewish Daily Forward, 29 December 2011.

Haredim are Hiding a Dangerous Subculture

Today, the head of the American Haredi group, Agudath Israel has finally come out of the closet to articulate their position—after considerable soul searching for the right nomenclature, I might add! Its spokesman, Rabbi Avi Shafran, is no stranger to controversy. In his statement to the public, he writes:

  • Reports of recent events in the Israeli town of Beit Shemesh are deeply disturbing. Violence of any sort, whether physical or verbal, by self-appointed “guardians” of modesty is reprehensible. Such conduct is beyond the bounds of decent, moral - Jewish! - behavior. We condemn these acts unconditionally. Those who have taken pains to note that the small group of misguided individuals who have engaged in this conduct are not representative of the larger charedi community are to be commended. It is disturbing, though, that some Israeli politicians and secularists have been less responsible, portraying the actions of a very few as indicative of the feelings of the many. Quite the contrary, the extremist element is odious to, and rejected by, the vast majority of charedi Jews.Lost in all the animus and ill will, unfortunately, is the concept ostensibly at the core of the controversy: the exalted nature of tzenius, or Jewish modesty.

    Judaism considers human desires to constitute a sublime and important force, but one whose potential for harm is commensurate with its potential for holiness. In a society like our own, where the mantra of many is, in effect, “anything goes,” many charedi Jews, men and women alike, see a need to take special steps - in their own lives and without seeking to coerce others - to counterbalance the pervasive atmosphere of licentiousness, so as to avoid the degradation of humanity to which it leads.It would be tragic were the acts of violence to lead Jews to, G-d forbid, reject the culture of tzenius that has always been the hallmark of the Jewish nation, to regard Jewish modesty as something connected to violence and anger, rather than to refinement and holiness.

First of all I would like to commend the rabbi for at least condemning the violence that took place in Beth Shemech. However, Rabbi Shafran seems to think that there is some legitimacy in Haredi complaint about the “immodest” clad eight-year old children.

The question occurred to me after some reflection: What kind of person would find an eight year old girl’s modest clothing (by Halachic standards) “immodest,” or even “provocative”? The answer ought to be real obvious: pedophiles. Most normal people would never even think of regarding a young seven or eight year-old girl as a sex object.

If you think the Catholic Church has problems, wait till you see the Haredi problems that has infested their community. Haredi rabbis in New York, Baltimore, and other cities have been hiding pedophiles in their midst for decades. The issue of pedophilia has been threatening to undermine the house of cards that is holding up the Haredi community in Israel and especially here in the United States.

Rabbi Shafran and his organization really need to ask themselves, what kind of perverted subculture are the Haredim trying to desperately hide?

An Insight from a Fractured Era . . .

From Jewish Values ONLINE:

Question: Is it okay for an unmarried 22 year old couple to sleep together in the same bed, in the same room as the woman’s 11 year old brother?

Answer: In the interest of brevity, I must say that the Halacha frowns upon young people sleeping together before they get married. That being said, historically, young people will always act like young people regardless of what the codes of Jewish Law or books of Etiquette have to say.

Still, young people tend to forget how easily it is to get pregnant. That’s one of life’s simple complications and that is why marriage is such a great institution for young people who love one another to seriously consider. Mind you, I am not condoning the behavior; I am merely speaking about its reality in our times.

However, when you add an eleven year old brother to the mix, I think you are modeling some very poor behavior. Parents must have privacy; in fact, everyone ought to have privacy. Granted, that is not always possible. Here is my recommendation: (1) Have your eleven year-old brother sleep in the living room. (2) Do not engage in any intimacy while he is in the house. (3) Better still, have the boy stay with his parents—where he belongs.

As I was going through the classical Jewish legal texts dealing with Jewish etiquette, I came across several interesting historical facts that most rabbis and lay people are probably unaware of. In the impoverished communities of Europe, Jewish and non-Jewish families did not always have the luxury of having separate bedrooms like we now have today.

It was not uncommon for entire families share one bed [1]—provided of course, people were modestly attired. Given the lack of heat, the circumstances were decidedly different because a sick child might not survive without the body heat of the other family members. Such a practice was very common throughout the medieval period as well.[2] By the 18th century, the custom of family beds became widely unusual throughout most of Europe.

In the United States, the practice continued into the 20th century. Even Abe Lincoln, while traveling, would share a bed with a friend.[3]

My, the world has changed . . .

Given the problems we know recognize about pedophilia, we can now say in retrospect the medieval practice of families sharing a bed or a bedroom ought to be strongly discouraged.

 


Notes:

[1] Even HaEzer 21:7. This Halachic passage would strike any reader as offensive, and I purposely did not translate the material for the JVO. Suffice it to say, we have come a long way and the world-thankfully-is no longer the same.

[2] Jeffrey L. Singman, “Daily Life in Medieval Europe” (Santa Barbara, CA: Greenwood Publishing, 1999), 46.

[3] Stephen Mennell, “The American Civilizing Process”(Oxford: Polity Press, 2007), 64-65.

Cosmic Personalism in the Psalms

Q. Why is there a tradition to say chapters of Tehillim (the Psalms) when someone is ill?

A. Certain psalms give expression to our deepest yearnings that God is attentive to our prayers. Jewish mystics seem to believe that the psalms act as spiritual conduits, providing the worshiper with a language of prayer, since not everyone is articulate!

When the ancient psalmists gazed into the heavens, they did not behold an endless abyss of cosmic nothingness; rather, they beheld a God with whom they could audaciously and personally address as “You.” All these sundry personal pronouns and anthropomorphic metaphors serve to convey something profound about the mystery of God’s Presence and closeness to the world, without which God could not be known. Martin Buber notes that in addition, anthropomorphic language reflects.

  • Our need to preserve the concrete quality is evidenced in the encounter. . . .It is in the encounter itself that we are confronted with something compellingly anthropomorphic, something demanding reciprocity, a primary You. This is true of those moments of our daily life in which we become aware of the reality that is absolutely independent of us, whether it be as power or as glory, no less than of the hours of great revelation of which only a halting record has been handed down to us. [1]

When viewed from this perspective, the God we encounter in the Psalms is not the God of the philosophers who often conceived God as the Creator of the Cosmos. In the Psalms, God is also a Redeemer Who takes cognizance of human prayer and the heart that suffers. In the final analysis, to the Psalmists of old, God is a relational Being Who seeks to heal the shattered human heart (Psalm 147:2). The psalmists believe in a concept that is sometimes better described as “cosmic personalism.”

Psalm 8:5-10 really captures the beauty of this theological and spiritual concept in a way that captures the fragility and potential greatness of the human condition.

What are humans that you are mindful of them,

mere mortals that you care for them?

Yet you have made them little less than a god,

crowned them with glory and honor.

You have given them rule over the works of your hands,

put all things at their feet:

All sheep and oxen, even the beasts of the field,

The birds of the air, the fish of the sea,

and whatever swims the paths of the seas.

O LORD, our Lord,

How awesome is your name through all the earth!

Not all Psalms are the same; the Psalter (i.e., the composer) expresses feelings of doom and gloom, sickness, homelessness, birth and rebirth, death, joy, reflections, gratitude—a cacophony of emotions that even the most common worshiper in a synagogue or church can readily identify and understand.

Jewish tradition has long encouraged Jews of all generations to see their personal narrative as something that is embedded in the words of the Psalms. The Psalmist in essence created a liturgical template for all Jews to use regardless of their spiritual circumstances.

Psalms of healing vary from community to community; Chabad is fond of saying Pss. 20, 6, 9, 13, 16, 17, 18, 22, 23, 28, 30, 31, 32, 33, 37, 38, 39, 41, 49, 55, 56, 69, 86, 88, 89, 90, 91, 102, 103, 104, 107, 116, 118, 142, 143, and 148—a total number of 36, which equals 2 x 18 (chai, “life”). Bratzlav Hassidim are fond of saying Psalms 16, 32, 41, 42, 59, 77, 90, 105, 137, 150 during their midnight prayers that mourn for the loss of the Temple.

Sephardic and many Kabbalistic Jews are accustomed to recite Psalm 119, which is an acrostic psalm that contains all the letters of the Hebrew alphabet. It is apropos to say out loud the verses letters of the verses corresponding to each of the sick person’s—or deceased person’s Hebrew name (i.e., the latter would apply on a Yahrzeit). Continue Reading

The Silence of Indifference

In Jewish legal tradition, better known as “Halachah,” teaches that silence is “tantamount to admission.” The moral implications ought to be clear enough for anyone to readily grasp. When somebody is attempting to do something wrong and illegal, one cannot dissociate oneself from the situation and act as if one has no moral obligations.

Jewish ethics takes a rather binary approach to moral dilemmas: You are either part of the solution, or else you are part of the problem. The Talmud develops this principle in a variety of different places. For example:

  • From where do we know if a man sees his neighbor drowning, mauled by beasts, or attacked by robbers, he is required to save him? From the verse, “You shall not stand by idly when your neighbor’s life is at stake. I am the LORD” (Lev. 19:16).[1]

There is another Talmudic passage that makes a similar point:

  • What is a foolish hasid like? — This refers to anyone who sees a woman is drowning in the river, and he says, “It is improper for me to look upon her and rescue her.”[2]

Why are these passages relevant?

Most of our readers are already well aware about the eight year old girl, Na’ama Margolis’s ordeal in Beth Shemesh, where she has been spat at, physically threatened, and insulted. The silence of many of the Haredi rabbis is alarming.

The Jewish philosopher Emmanuel Lévinas reminds us that the human face demands an ethical response. We cannot ignore the Voice of God that insists that we act ethically toward our brothers and sisters. “[T]he Other manifests itself by the absolute resistance of its defenseless eyes. . . . The Infinite is present in the face . . .”

Some leaders, like Rabbi Avarahan Yosef, the Chief Rabbi of Holon, and the Israeli Chief Rabbis Shlomo Amar and Yona Metzger have condemned the behavior in strong terms, “The Haredi public has no right to impose its opinion on the rest of the population . . . This isn’t the Haredi land,” the chief rabbi said in an interview to Kol Barama Radio. “We have no authority to impose our opinion on others. This is a public place.” While the Avarahan Yosef’s comments are certainly welcome, why isn’t his father, Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef—spiritual leader of Shas—not speaking out?

We want to know . . .

Some Haredi rabbis are acting commendably. However, my problem is not with the Israeli Chief Rabbinate. My problem is with the majority of Haredi leaders who choose to say nothing about this reprehensible behavior. One of the leading stalwarts of the Haredi community who commands the respect of the entire Haredi public is Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv; his voice has been surprisingly quiet. When it comes to the issue of Shabbat elevators or the kashrut of a cemetery and its possible “desecration,” Rabbi Elyashiv’s voice can always be heard.

This rabbi is not shy of cameras. You can count on it.

By the same token the Hassidic leaders of several of the sects also have said nothing about this travesty. We cannot turn a blind eye to the religious extremists in Beit Shemesh.

Beyond that, it seems that the American Haredi community doesn’t seem to have much to say either. Websites such as Yated.com and hamodia.com, or the Jewish Press would rather comment about North Korea’s Kim Jong-il’s death than the violence that is taking place in Beth Shemesh. How could this not be news?

Continue Reading

Beyond the Groucho Marx Syndrome (revised)

For Jewish Values Online:

Question:I am taking a college course on Politics and Religion. Why don’t Jews, like Mormons and Jehovah Witnesses and other faiths go out and spread the word?

Answer: Your question is an excellent one. People often ask me, “Why doesn’t Judaism openly try to spread its message of faith to the non-Jewish world like other faiths? Why does Judaism discourage new perspective converts?”

Historically, there was a time when Judaism went out of its way to encourage proselytes. Prior to the Temple’s destruction and even for about a century afterwards, Judaism really did its best to spread the message of Judaism as the religion of philosophical and ethical monotheism. The city of Alexandria purposely tried to make Judaism more meaningful by translating the Bible into Greek. This proved to be a great success and many people from all nationalities and ethnic groups started to study and embrace Judaism as a viable spiritual path. After the destruction of the Temple, most of the attitudes toward the non-Jews continued to be somewhat positive, although not uniformly. Many of the Sages of the first and second century came from families of proselytes. Their family names bear witness to this development, e.g., Antigonous, Alexander, Ben Bag-bag, or Onkelos–and numerous others bears witness to how deeply accepted proselytes were for a time of our history. Here is one of my favorite stories:

  • “And the Levite . . . and the proselyte shall come” (Deut. 14:29). Moses spoke up to the Holy One, “Do You really consider a proselyte as important to You as a Levite?!” God replied, “He is even more important to Me, since he became a proselyte for My sake. A parable of a stag that grew up in the wilderness and on his own joined the flock. The shepherd not only gave him food and drink, but loved him more than any of the other animals in his flock. Someone asked the shepherd, “How is it that you love the stag more than any other in the flock?” He replied: I had to perform many kinds of labor for my flock until they grew up: I took them out in the morning and brought them back in the evening. But this one, who grew up in the wilderness and forests, came into my flock—all on his own! Should I not love him very much?” Likewise the Holy One said, “Much did I have to labor for Israel: I brought them out of Egypt, lit the way for them, sent down manna for them, swept in quail for them, made the well gush up for them, and encompassed them with clouds of glory before they were willing to accept My Torah. But this one came on his own volition. I consider him to be not only the equal of an Israelite, and even as equal to a Levite!” [1]

However, the changes began to unravel with Emperor Constantine I, and especially later on when Emperor Constantine II assumed control of the Roman Empire, for it was under his reign Jewish proselytizing became a crime punishable by death.[2] Some historians claim he was worried that the Jews might possibly force a slave or a Christian spouse to convert, but the animus he felt toward the Jews was aimed at marginalizing them as a potential competitor. Instant liberation was granted to any Jewish or Muslim slave who declared his intention to become Christian. Similar policies were adopted by subsequent Christian emperors who later prescribed the death penalty for any Jew attempting to proselytize a Christian. Similar decrees were also made in the Muslim communities, where the penalty of proselytizing was-and still is (in several contemporary Muslim states)-death. Conversion from Islam to Christianity is considered apostasy (kefirah)—a religious crime that is punishable by death.

Throughout this period of time, the rabbis were concerned with the survival of Judaism; anyone coming to them who expressed a desire to convert was understandably viewed with suspicion. What else would anyone expect from a traumatized people who have experienced terrible persecutions? Had these changes not occurred, who knows how large the Jewish people might have been?

On the other hand, the greatness of a people is not contingent upon its numbers. The Jewish people—despite their size—has produced in our day more Nobel Prize winners, 25% of the total winners.[3]

That’s nothing to sneeze at!

Over the last few decades, Rabbi Alexander Schindler, president of the Union of American Hebrew Congregations, proposed in 1991 that Reform Judaism actively seek converts among non-Jews. In 1996, Rabbi Harold Schulweis, a prominent Conservative leader posted an advertisement in the LA Times welcoming all non-Jews to come and discover Judaism. This is a change for the better.

One last note, more and more rabbis, like myself, are doing whatever we can to encourage anyone who is interested in converting to Judaism. The time has finally arrived for us to re-embrace the Alexandrian tradition that won the hearts of many spiritual seekers of the 1st century and beyond. Our world today reflects more the kind of cultural pluralism that epitomized the great city of Alexandria. It’s time we learn to welcome the spiritual pilgrim that comes our way.

========

Notes: Continue Reading