In Praise of Naomi Ragan: An Israeli and Orthodox Rosa Parks

This story is somewhat dated, but most of the readers probably are unaware of what actually took place in Israel regarding a brave and outspoken Modern Orthodox feminist and famous authoress who dared to stand up to an ultra-Orthodox (Haredi) juggernaut in a bus heading toward Israel.

In American history, every citizen knows how Rosa Parks made history on Dec. 1, 1955. This brave woman got arrested for refusing to give up her seat on a municipal bus to a white man. This incident sparked the famous Montgomery bus boycott. Today, Israeli women wish they had an Orthodox “Rosa Parks” to lead them in their fight for equality in the Haredi Jewish communities.

Well, actually Orthodox novelist Naomi Ragen did exactly that a few years ago not far from Jerusalem.  No, she didn’t deliberately set out to become a Jewish Rosa Parks. She just wanted to get home. An observant, Orthodox Jew, Ragen was on the No. 40 bus line, headed to her house near Jerusalem, when an ultra-Orthodox — or Haredi — man told her to move to the back. She recalls, “I was astonished . . . And I said ‘I’m not bothering anyone. You don’t have to look at me, sit next to me — but as long as this is a public bus, I will sit where I please, thank you very much.'” Ragen says the harassment grew worse at every stop. Soon an even more aggressive, bearded ultra-Orthodox man got on and commanded her to move. He weighed about 300 pounds and hovered over her like a sumo wrestler, she says, his long, black frock and wide hat in her face.

“And he started screaming and yelling,” she said, telling her to “move to the back of the bus — or else.” “My reaction to that was I looked him in the eye and said ‘Look, you show me in the code of Jewish law where it’s written that I’m not allowed to sit in this seat and I’ll move,'” Ragen said. “‘Until then, get out of my face!'”

Pretty gutsy.

Naomi was lucky; other women haven’t been so fortunate.  At one recent incident, five Ultra-Orthodox Jews assaulted a woman and an Israel Defense Forces soldier Sunday for sitting next to each other on a bus bound for Beit Shemesh, near Jerusalem.

Unfortunately, the civil rights movement in Israel has yet to really get off the ground. Prominent Israeli politicians are afraid to stand up against the Haredi centers of power. Even the Israeli Supreme Court has failed to grant the necessary changes to ensure equality for all its citizens. In fact, the social trends look bleaker than they did when Naomi Ragan stood up for women everywhere in Israel.

If you think about it, doesn’t it seems that misogyny might be the “Original Sin” that is behind much of the religious fundamentalism of our age?  This concept might bear looking into at another time.  Naomi Ragan represents the kind of Modern Orthodox woman who deserves our respect. I pray that more Modern Orthodox leaders show the courage to speak out against the moral and spiritual hijacking of their faith.

Freedom “of” Religion or Freedom “from” Religion?

The year: 2010.

Haredi rabbis demand separate buses to ensure the separation of the sexes.  Beyond that, they are now insisting on separate times for men and women whenever they go shopping at the local supermarket. Once again the politicians look the other way rather than deal with the real problem– the ubiquitous threat of religious coercion.

Any gentile or liberal Jew reading this news might smirk: Are they afraid shopping along the aisles or sitting in a bus might lead to mixed dancing? (If you haven’t seen Kevin Bacon’s cult classic, “Footloose,” I recommend you rent this film at the local video-store. Maybe we need a Haredi version of the movie, starring Kevin Kosher!) Bifurcation of the sexes continues to morph into new and even stranger directions. The story is far from over for the  Haredi rabbi’s newest “Halachic” innovation is: separate sidewalks! A few weeks ago or so, some Haredi used megaphones urging that men and women should walk on opposite sides of the road during a busy weekend.

Now that’s taking segregation to the streets!

One wonders: Are burkhas next?!

Anyone who has studied ancient Jewish history probably knows that Haredi piety seems a little bit like déjà vu. As intimated in the last paragraph, the displays of piety we are witnessing today also occurred over 2000 years ago in ancient Judea.

Here are the rabbinic texts that substantiate this observation:

Our Rabbis taught: There are seven types of Pharisees: a fool saint, a subtle knave, a woman Pharisee, and the plagues of Pharisees ruin the world (BT Sotah 20a).

Who is a man of piety that is a fool? He, for example, who if a woman is drowning, says, “It is unseemly for me to look at her, and therefore, I cannot rescue her.’ Who is the crafty scoundrel? R. Yochanan says, “He is the man who explains his case to the judge before his opponent arrives.

Who is the pious fool? He who sees a child struggling in the water, and says, ‘When I have taken off my phylacteries, I will go and save him.’ By the time he arrives to rescue him, the child has already expired. Who is the crafty scoundrel? R. Huna says, ‘He is the man who behaves leniently toward himself, while teaching others only the strictest rules” (T.J. Sotah 3:4, f. 19a, line 13.)

Our Rabbis have taught: There are seven types of Pharisees: the ostentatious Pharisee[1], the Pharisee who knocks his feet together and walks with exaggerated humility[2].  The third type of Pharisee knocks his face against the wall rather than gaze at a woman[3]. Then again, there is the Pharisee who who feigns religious piety while constantly exclaiming, ‘What is my duty that I may perform it?’[4] There are also Pharisees who act out of love, while others act out of fear, i.e., who serve God because of  ulterior motives or conversely—or because they fear retribution.[5] Lastly, there is the Pharisee who wraps himself in his cloak, feigning humility (BT Sotah 22b).

In short, religious piety takes all different kinds of shapes in the world. Whether it’s the Taliban persecuting barbers for shaving men, or imposing the burkha for women–it is a fanatical religion that seeks to totally micromanage the lives of its followers. Israelis also grapple with religious fundamentalism much like their Muslim counterparts. More and more people in Israel are demanding not just freedom of religion, many are now unfortunately clamoring for freedom from religion.

And now you know–the rest of the story.


Notes:

[1] He behaves like Shechem, who circumcised himself for an unworthy purpose (Gen. 34) The J. Talmud explains: who carries his religious duties upon his shoulder (shekem), i.e., ostentatiously (Ber. 14b).

[2] He walks with exaggerated humility. According to the J. Talmud, he says: ‘Spare me a moment that I may perform a commandment.’ For such a Pharisee, it’s all about “looking good and pious.”

[3] The J. Talmud explains that this is a calculating Pharisee, i.e., he performs a good deed and then a bad deed, setting one off against the other–he behaves a lot like a religious accountant.

[4] He behaves as if he has fulfilled every religious obligation.

[5] This reading follows Rava and Abaye who view the Pharisee as interested in pecuniary gain; or fear the consequences of God’s wrath should they sin against His will.  In J. Ber., however, they are both taken in reference to God — i.e., love of God and fear of Him.

“Lady Wisdom–the Firstborn Daughter of Creation”

Sometime during the fifth or fourth century B.C.E., the Wisdom/Sophia tradition began to infiltrate Jewish religious sensibilities. At first it was introduced as a series of epigrams containing proverbial wisdom; however, in theological terms, the notion of Sophia came to personify God’s own wisdom. Over the centuries, this new concept influenced generations of Jewish thinkers and mystics—especially during the medieval period when Jewish thought renewed its historic love affair with Greek wisdom. Abraham Ibn Ezra (c. 1089–1164) asserts that the creation of heaven and earth is preceded by the mystical appearance of Wisdom who is sometimes called רֵאשִׁית (rë´šît = “beginning”) (See Prov. 3:19; Ps. 104:24).

Kabbalists would later view Wisdom as the seminal seed and geometric point from which all creation emanates.[1] Their ideas were indirectly shaped by the early Judaic and Hellenistic texts which conceived of Wisdom poetically as being the “firstborn daughter of God” and “Mother of Creation.” According to the Jewish mystical imagination, wisdom truly personifies the “thought” of God that is ever-present in the universe. In light of this reason, Wisdom is plainly presented here as the first of God’s creatures and as God’s collaborator in the creation of all that was yet to be created, and it is Her presence that now suffuses the entire created order. In the book of Proverbs, “Lady Wisdom” is portrayed as saying:

The LORD created me at the beginning of his work,

the first of his acts of long ago.

Ages ago I was set up,

at the first, before the beginning of the earth …

When he established the heavens,

I was there, when he drew a circle on the face of the deep.

Prov. 8:22–27

A similar thought is also poetically expressed in the Wisdom of Sirach (Ecclesiasticus):

Wisdom praises herself, and tells of her glory in the midst of her people:

“Before the ages, in the beginning,

He created me,

and for all the ages I shall not cease to be.”

—Sir. 24:1–9

Both readings constitute an intrabiblical commentary on the original story of creation as depicted in Genesis. Wisdom acts as the foundation of the cosmos, and as the sole witness to God’s Creation of the world.  In the later Midrashim, the wisdom principle came to be redefined and personified as the Torah itself. “God looked into the Torah and created the world” (Gen. Rabbah 1:1).[2] Literary scholar Susan Handelman observes, “In the rabbinic imagination, the Torah is not an artifact of nature, a product of the universe; the universe, on the contrary, is the product of the Torah.”[3]


Notes:
[1] The difference between the Hellenistic and the Kabbalistic view of Wisdom is that the former views Wisdom as a feminine principle, whereas the latter views it as essentially a masculine principle.
[2] The Jerusalem Targum paraphrases בְּרֵאשִׁית as בחכמה “With [or ‘In’] wisdom God created . . .” Compare this text with the Targum Neofiti’s interpretive rendering (מלקדמין בחכמה ברא דייי), while the Targum of Onkelos translates the opening salvo as בֲקַדמִין בְרָא יוי (“At first God created . . .”). Likewise the Midrash also alludes to this same theme: “God looked into the Torah and created the world” (Gen. Rabbah 1:1). Wisdom acts as the foundation of the cosmos, serving as the sole witness to God’s Creation of the world.

[3] Susan Handelman, Slayers of Moses, op. cit., 37.

How many people really constitute a minyan–and why?

The custom of the minyan is only rabbinic in origin. When examining the minyan’s origins, it is vital we remember that this custom is not something that is etched in stone. However, as a custom, it does have a rich and variegated history that cannot be reduced to a single point of view–nor should it be.

The origin of the minyan is discussed in the Talmud. Some expositions are much more oblique than others  [1], while other suppositions are by far, more lucid. The Midrash Tanchuma (Parshat Miketz 6) explains that since the time of Abraham’s famous defense of the Sodomites, namely that a “congregation” consisted no less than ten people, for ten constitutes an “edah” a “community.” On the other hand, that both Talmudic traditions stress only men make up a “congregation,” even though the Abrahamic story clearly indicates that women also made up part of the minyan Abraham was seeking to extricate!! [2]

On the other hand, there are other rabbinical passages dating back to the Gaonic era (8th-10th centuries) that in Palestine, a minyan consisted may have consisted of seven or six people.[3]

The liturgical historian Abraham Milgram notes that after WWII, a number of Jewish communities actually went back to counting six or seven people as a “minyan,” until the time their ranks would grow in number. This specifically happened in the city of Dubrovnik, Yugoslavia. Incidentally, the framers of the Halacha were well aware of this possibility and its antecedents in Jewish tradition.  In functional terms they ruled, if a prayer leader began saying the Kaddish, or for that matter any other portion of the service that would ordinarily require ten people[3], one may conclude any of these services so long as at least six men remain in the sanctuary.[4]

Some sources suggest that even nine people could constitute a minyan so long as the Ark is open; this does not mean that the “Ark is a person,” but rather God’s Presence can also make up as the “tenth man” so to speak.  There is some Aggadic basis for this custom. When Joseph disappeared, the verse later says that “his father wept for him,” which could mean either Jacob (the plain meaning of the text) or possibly, Isaac. One Midrashic account raises an obvious question: “If Isaac knew that Joseph was alive, why doesn’t he reveal this fact to Jacob?” The Midrash answers, “The Holy One, blessed be He, has not revealed it to him; am I then to reveal it to him?” This statement gave rise to the odd rabbinic theory that God was part of the brothers’ conspiracy never to reveal the whereabouts of Joseph!!

Elsewhere, the Halacha mentions a number of other secondary Halachic references indicate that even a child may be used to make up the 10th person of a minyan—so long as he knows how to pray or holds a chumash in his hand (O.H. 55:4, see Mishnah Berurah on note 24), or according to another Ba’al HaMaor (cited in by the Rav 55:5), even four minors may be added to the minyan. One medieval source, Rabbanu Simcha adds that even a woman may count as the tenth person; it is remarkable that R. Sheneir Zalman of Liadi rules in his Rav’s Shulchan Aruch (O.H. 55:5) that one may rely on this lenient opinion—despite the fact that one would never expect to see such a leniency ever practiced in a Lubavitcher minyan!!

This type of reasoning is called, “pilpul” (pepper), and such didactic approaches while they may be interesting, are obviously far from being the contextual meaning of the text.

When examining rabbinic traditions regarding the minyan, it is important to bear in mind that in rabbinic times, only men attended the congregations to pray. In reality it is not the interpretation of the verse that creates the custom, but quite the reverse: it is the already existing custom that creates the interpretation that justifies its etiology.  Nowadays, since women also form a part of our society’s leadership, there is ample reason to argue that a woman should be included as part of the minyan. As social realities change, so too does the interpretation. This is the way it has always been, there is no logical or compelling reason to think otherwise.


[1]One traditional source in T.B. Megillah 23b records that a minyan derives a semantic connection regarding the word “midst,” mentioned in the precept of sanctifying God’s Name (Lev. 22:32) and another passage that speaks about Moses and Aaron separating themselves from the “midst,” of the congregation (16:21). Concerning the latter, the term “midst” is used in conjunction with the phrase “congregation,” i.e.,  the ten spies who brought back a negative report of the Land of Israel. This interpretation is hopelessly contorted and forced.

[2] Tractate Soferim 10:8. According to the Zohar: זוהר – השמטות כרך א (בראשית) דף רנה עמוד א
, וכשאינה מוצא חוזרת ופותחת ואומרת רבש”ע אולי ימצאון שם עשרה כלומר אולי ימצא ביניהם מי שעוסק בעשרה מאמרות ובעשרת הדברות בכל יום וכן אולי ימצאון ביניהם עשרה שמקדימים לבית הכנסת דהא תנן כל הנמנה עם עשרה ראשונים לבית הכנסת נוטל שכר כנגד כלם שבאים אחריו מה כתיב לא אשחית בעבור העשרה כל זה יש לנשמת הצדיק ללמד סניגורייא וזכות על הרשעים להשקיט האף והחמה וכיון שלא מצאה שום זכות ללמד

[3] Rabbanu Yona of Gerona (ca. 14th century, Spain)  notes that not all rituals which sanctify the Almighty’s name are classified as “de’varim shebikdusha” ( BT Berachot 21a, s.v., “v’nik’dash’ti”). Such examples would include: Kedusha, Cha’zor’at Hashatz, Ne’si’at Kapayim, K’riat Hatorah, or the recitation of the  Haftorah with its accompanying blessings. Simply put, the acceptance of the heavenly yoke in the recitation of the “Shema” is not a precept requiring a minyan per se.  Wherever there is a sanctification of God’s Name, that is where a minyan is thus required. These specific services cannot be performed in the absence of the minyan quorum. There are other important implications with respect to the precept of martyrdom that requires that one be willing to die in the presence of at least ten Jews–and Maimonides makes no distinction about the gender or even the age of these individuals. Since the laws of minyan derive from this particular biblical precept, it follows that there is ample room for a different and newer kind of deconstruction of the minyan concept that modern Orthodox rabbis have neglected to consider.

[4] O.H. 55:2, with the Mishnah Berurah’s notes.

[5] See Genesis Rabbah 84:22.

Jacob’s Complicated Love Life and its Halachic implications

Inevitably, the story about Jacob and his complicated love life raises a number of questions regarding the Jewish attitude concerning concubines and polygamy. Do Jews still practice polygamy? Outside Sephardic circles, polygamy has been banned for well over a thousand years, since the time Rabbanu Gershom outlawed it for Ashkenazic Jews.

Historically, there is no evidence of actual concubinage in the Talmud, nor is there any evidence of it in practice during the Middle Ages. In the responsa of Asher b. Jehiel (no. 32:1), there is a reference to a concubine, but it seems to be merely the case of a man cohabiting with a woman without going through a marriage ceremony with her, and not to a formal concubine. Modern readers would refer to such a woman as a “mistress.”

In general terms, the Talmud distinguishes between a concubine and a wife in the following way: Wives have ketubah (marriage contract) and kiddushin (formal marriage ceremony i.e., hupah) while concubines have neither. [1]

Ibn Daud adds in his notes to Maimonides, that any woman who does not dedicate herself to one man, is considered to be a harlot. [2]

However, Rashi takes issue with this definition. According to him, even a concubine must have kiddushin, but what she lacks is a ketubah (which delineates the financial responsibilities a husband has for his wife). In fact, Jewish law insists that even a married woman must have a ketubah, lest she be considered a concubine. Rashi’s opinion draws support from the Jerusalem Talmud (J. Ketubot 5:2, 29d). Most Halachic authorities generally rule in accordance with Maimonides and the Babylonian Talmud.

Opinions differ with respect whether a concubine is permitted or forbidden. Some scholars say that neither biblical or rabbinical law prohibits it. All that matters is that the concubine go to the mikvah ( a ritual pool of water) so that the man is not guilty of having sex with a menstruating woman (EH 26:1). The majority of medieval authorities conclude that concubinage is immoral. Radbaz, for an example, wrote back in the early 17th century, “Nowadays a woman is not sexually permitted to any man except through the formal marriage ceremony of kiddushin, Huppah,  sheva brachot (the seven marriage blessings) and ketubah.” (Resp, Vol, 4 #225)

Only one notable 17th century authority, Jacob Emden (responsum no. 15), expressed the opinion that it should be permitted. Emden’s citations of talmudic sources endorsing polygamy show that some of the most famous rabbis of the Talmud were footloose and fancy free when it came to the question of concubines. In all likelihood, Rabbi Emden probably would have felt quite comfortable living in the 60’s. Continue reading “Jacob’s Complicated Love Life and its Halachic implications”

Woman Arrested at the Wall for Wearing a Tallit?!

Byline: Friday, 2:00 PM

This past week, the Israeli police arrested a woman who was praying at the Western Wall, while wearing a tallit (prayer shawl). This was the first time a woman was arrested for wearing a tallit and reading from the Torah.

The Haredi Rabbi Shmuel Rabinovitch argues that the “Women of the Wall” group is creating strife and friction that defiles the sacredness of the Wall “The group has a place to touch the Kotel, the High Court of Justice gave it all it needs,” he said, referring to a ruling allocating an area adjacent to the Kotel, yet away from the public eye, where woman may don talitot.

The origin of this dispute centers on whether a tallit is considered to be an exclusively male garment or not; one  ancient Targum asserts that a tallit and phylacteries are a “men’s garment,” which is off-limits to women (Deut 22:5).[1] However, the Talmud itself merely says that a woman is exempt from wearing a tallit or phylacteries because these are time-bound precepts that must be observed within a specific time of the day. Commentaries point out that while a woman is “exempt” from observing these precepts, she certainly is not excluded from observing these precepts—should she choose to do so. Continue reading “Woman Arrested at the Wall for Wearing a Tallit?!”

The Meaning of PaRDeS: The Four Levels of Scriptural Interpretation

One of the most important hermeneutical paradigms introduced by the early and medieval rabbis is a belief that the Scriptures contain more than one layer of exegetical meaning. This intertextual approach came to be known during the medieval era by the acronym  פַּרְדֵּס”PaRDeS,” standing for “Peshat,” “Remaz,” “Derash,” and “Sod.” Briefly defined, peshat is based on the literal and factual meaning of a verse[1] and roughly corresponds to the medieval concept of sensus literalis as developed by the medieval Christian scholars Thomas Aquinas and Nicholas of Lyra: “that which the author intends.”[2] It is also helpful to remember that the early rabbinic approach of peshat serves to define the practical character of a community.[3] Remez (allusions) refers to the subtle types of word games and puns that are embedded in the text (cf. Gen. 1:31; 2:23; 6:8). Sometimes this may take the form of Gematria (numerology) Temurah (anagrams) and Notarikon (acrostics). Continue reading “The Meaning of PaRDeS: The Four Levels of Scriptural Interpretation”

The Halitzah Ceremony– And Its Modern Ethical Challenges

As mentioned earlier the levirate marriage takes place between a widow who’s husband died childless and his brother (known as the levir); halitzah (“removal”) is a ceremony that releases the woman from the obligation of Levirate marriage, allowing her to marry someone else.

Although Levirate marriage itself no longer is practiced, traditional Jews still require halitzah, formally releasing the widow from the biblically required union with her brother-in-law. The widow appears before a tribunal of five people–three of whom happen to be rabbis. After some initial questioning as to what the widow and levir intend to do, the court gives instructions that each must carry out.

Each participant must pronounce in certain phrases in Hebrew; the woman also is instructed to fast until the ceremony. The next day, a special shoe is removed from the levir’s foot. The woman approaches him and proclaims in Hebrew, “My husband’s brother refuses to raise up unto his brother a name in Israel; he will not perform the duty of a husband’s brother unto me,” to which he replies, “I do not want to take her.” The widow then removes the shoe from his foot, tosses it away, and spits on the floor in front of him, saying, “So shall it be done unto the man that does not build up his brother’s house, and his name shall be called in Israel, the house of him that had his shoe loosened.” All present respond three times in unison, “he that had his shoe loosened.” Concluding prayers are read by the judges, and often a certificate that the widow is free to remarry is drawn up.

Even as late as the medieval era, rabbinic leaders like Rabbi Meir of Rothenberg, ruled that nowadays, no woman would ever consent to marrying her brother-in-law, and the practice of halitzah was no longer necessary. However, in the State of Israel today, the ultra-Orthodox rabbis (known as Haredim [= “Tremblers”], a.k.a.  “Jewish Quakers”) refuse scores of women from remarrying without undergoing the traditional biblical ceremony—despite the humiliation this causes both the woman and her family.

In Israel, a most perplexing problem occurred that revealed the awkwardness of the halitzah ceremony as a viable religious practice. An elderly lady—about 60—wanted to register her marriage with the rabbinate after being widowed for four years and divorced from her second marriage. A clerk in the office observed that she never obtained halitzah from the brother of her first husband. Nevertheless, the rabbis ruled that she had to obtain permission from her former brother-in-law.

But here’s the catch. Continue reading “The Halitzah Ceremony– And Its Modern Ethical Challenges”

Understanding the Purpose of the Levirate Marriage and Its Symbolism

One of the ancient institutions that have persisted since archaic times is the levirate marriage. Here is a brief synopsis of the institution and its underlying rational.

Life of a widow in the ancient world was precarious at best. Having no inheritance rights, she was easily exploited and was frequently reduced to abject poverty and/or prostitution. Many ancient civilizations from India, Africa, to the Ancient Near East utilized the levirate marriage (from the Latin  levir, a “brother-in-law”) as a means of protecting the brother’s wife from being exposed to poverty. Society expected the surviving brother of a deceased man (who lacked an heir) to marry the widow. It is interesting to note that according to the Kabbala (and Hindu folklore), the soul of the dead brother is re-incarnated in the body of child his wife is carrying.

The offspring from their marriage were considered children and heirs of the deceased. In a society that defined the importance of a woman in terms of her ability to bear and raise children, the levirate marriage enabled a woman to be fulfilled. This law served to guarantee the deceased brother’s wife a place in her husband’s family and protected her from exploitation.  This law was consistent with the biblical ethos calling upon the community of God ‘to remember and care for “the sojourners, the fatherless, and the widow” (Deut. 10:14-19; 24:17-22; 27:19). During the early period of Israelite history, this practice was not considered optional, but a duty to be faithfully carried out .

For the brother-in-law, the levirate marriage was not without its downside. By observing the law, he could actually damage his own estate, for it could be either diminished as a result of siring a son who would co-inherit with him. Likewise, it would be his to take responsibility for the widow as well as managing his dead brother’s land, not to mention, and be financially responsible for his sister-in-law as his wife. However, families took great pride in providing care for all of its members—the duty to take care of the widow was considered to be a morally important duty–not to be casually disregarded. Continue reading “Understanding the Purpose of the Levirate Marriage and Its Symbolism”

Creation as Novelty

In honor of the new Torah reading cycle, I thought I would explain some thoughts about the parsha as it pertains to the miracle of Creation.

However, Ibn Ezra is less convinced and contends that the linguistic evidence does not support such an interpretation.[7] The verb בָּרָא’ may also mean to fashion something out of already existing materials (e.g., the creation of man, whose body came from the dust of the earth, and whose soul issued forth from God’s breath).[8] Ibn Ezra’s comments could also suggest the universe was constructed out of pre-existent matter. However, pre-existent matter need not imply a dualism; it may imply that this ethereal substance is “pre-eternal” only in relationship to the Creation as Novelty. Continue reading “Creation as Novelty”