Rejecting the Extremists in our Midst

Today's Daf Yomi (Shabbat 54b-55a) presented a forthright and powerful ethical message:

Anyone who is able to protest against the transgressions of one's household and does not, is punished for the actions of the members of the household; anyone who is able to protest against the transgressions of one's townspeople and does not, is punished for the transgressions of the townspeople; anyone who is able to protest against the transgressions of the entire world and does not is punished for the transgressions of the entire world.

We are all culpable for our environment. We cannot claim that we are not interconnected with those who live in our home, our community, our town, or even our planet. It is our responsibility to raise our voices to protest when we see injustice, wrongdoing.

This passage struck a deep chord, because I had been thinking about the incident that happened last week with Rav Lior. If you are not up to date, here is the story as reported (link):

Rabbi Dov Lior, the chief rabbi of Kiryat Arba and one of the settler leaders, was surprised last week by the chilly reception he received from reserve soldiers stationed on the Gaza border.

One of the reserve soldiers called up by the IDF at start of Operation Pillar of Defense was Rabbi Lior's son-in-law, Efraim Ben-Shachar. Ahead of the weekend, shortly before the reservists were released, Ben-Shachar invited his father-in-law to meet with infantry fighters and support them with a Torah lesson following the arrival of many artists throughout the week.

But Rabbi Lior's visit sparked a row. Some of the unit's soldiers were outraged by the presence of the controversial rabbi, who had endorsed the "King's Torah" essay, which legitimizes the killing of non-Jews.

'Persona non grata'

According to one of the unit's soldiers, Omer Parter, an activist in the Working Youth movement, protested the rabbi's presence. Rabbi Lior tried to shake his hand, but he refused. When the rabbi asked, "Am I not allowed to speak to the soldiers?" Parter replied, "You are a persona non grata here."

As religious soldiers began gathering around the rabbi to listen to what he had to say, Prater told his comrades that Lior was one of the rabbis who gave their consent to the "King's Torah" book. Along with other soldiers, he searched for quotes from the book on his cell phone, including the permission to kill small children "if it is clear that they will grow up to pose a threat to our nation."

As tensions rose, Rabbi Lior decided to leave several minutes later without addressing the soldiers.

"I believe there is no room for Rabbi Lior's messages in the army," Prater told Ynet. "I oppose and condemn Rabbi Dov Lior's work and activities. I did stop him from speaking in light of his support for Baruch Goldstein and his conduct in the period before Rabin's murder. This is how I educate my pupils at the Working Youth – to love the land and practice equality, and not to hate anyone."

Amos Netzer, a friend of the protesting soldiers, wrote about the incident on his Facebook page: "I am proud of my friends who insisted on the truth, despite the harsh conflict with their comrades, exposing the true colors of one of the greatest instigators in Israel."

So that is the story. I read it and felt inspired by of those soldiers who actively opposed Rav Lior's presence in the army base. Rav Lior is an extremist. His views encourage violence and even murder. His political views, phrased in religious language, were part of the incitement in the lead-up to Rabin's murder. He has supported the book "Torat Hamelekh" a pseudo-halakhic work that incites violence and hatred against Arabs, moreover, when he was summoned for questioning by the Israeli police, he refused to comply. I have not studied his works in detail, but even upon this evidence alone, his views and personal example are dangerous for Israelis and for Judaism.

I asked myself whether I would have protested his arrival at an army base, or at my shul, with the moral clarity and stridency of those soldiers, and I am unsure whether I would have raised my voice or remained on the sidelines, not taking a stand. I live in a yishuv (settlement) in which I feel like a moderate, and I frequently encounter many people hold extreme views, some of which are expressed in blatantly racist language. When people write something offensive, I usually just read and ignore it; after all who wants to get into a fight? And standing up for your beliefs against other people always means that you will be attacked, accused and maligned. It is compounded more when, in the case of Rav Lior, the man is undeniably a huge Torah scholar and has a devoted following. There is a conflict: Do I shame a Torah scholar? And yet, I find his views unacceptable. How strongly should I oppose him? Should I personally not attend his lectures, or should I protest outside them? Should I campaign that he be removed from his post as chief rabbi of Kiryat Arba? (- a position paid for by the State of Israel.)

Here let me make a general comment which goes to the heart of the problem. Every community has difficulty reigning in their extremists. We propose that the Haredim in Beit Shemesh control their extremists who insult and harass schoolgirls on their way to study. We suggest that ordinary Palestinians bring pressure to bear on Hamas to stop firing rockets into Israel and to cease storing weaponry in hospitals and kindergartens. We wonder why the Peace camp cannot restrain their anarchists who throw stones at the IDF in Billin every Friday. And the moderate settler community should be responsible to expunge their extremists.

But it is hard for the community at large to bring down their radicals, the people at the more extreme fringes of the community. Why? First, these are frequently scary or powerful groups. But second, these people share the ideology of the entire community; their basic political perspective is not enormously different from everyone else. But they take it to an extreme, engaging in violence or unethical behavior. So how does one draw lines? And how does a person turn against their neighbour and possibly report them to the police, or protest against them? And how does one know for sure if this person is harmful?  

In a lecture I attended recently, they spoke about how one of the favourite pastimes of kids in Israel in the 1950's was going out and picking wild flowers, with some even sold commercially. In the mid-1960s, however, the Nature Reserves Authority, with the help of the Society for the Protection of Nature, published a list of protected wildflowers and launched a vigorous education campaign. The public was urged: "Don't pick! Don't uproot! Don't buy! And don't sell!" The effort saved Israel's wildflowers, and three decades later it is considered the most successful nature protection campaign conducted in the country. A professor of botany (who has an official permit to pick wild flowers) reported that he cannot go into the countryside on weekends or vacations because he is stridently accused and virtually accosted with children who berate him for ruining nature!
 

If we can teach our kids about protecting flowers and empower them to speak out, how do we educate our kids to speak out against other forms of extremism?

If  violence is involved, that should be a clear line. I often wonder how we can hear so many reports about settlers cutting down Arab's trees and nobody has been arrested and put on trial. Either the reports are fabricated, or the police are inept, or worse -apathetic.Why have the perpetrators of "Tag Mechir" ("Price Tag") attack not been located and tried? The moderates condemn them but will the mainstream settler community actively eschew them?

Some time back, when a nearby mosque was firebombed, I attended a public demonstration to protest the fact that a Jew would attack a mosque. But in an area of many thousands of Jews, only 30 people turned up. Happily several key local Rabbis made a visit to the mosque to express their moral outrage, and to express their regret to the local muslims, but again, these are the moderates - Rav Lior was not there. A similar scenario when some youths in the area threw a firebomb at an Arab taxi with six people injured. Moderates condemn, the rest are silent. If we do not protest these things, are we not compliant when the next attack comes? We need to find ways to empower ourselves to eject extremist elements from our communities, and to send a clear message that racist, hateful and murderous philosophies, and acts of violence or prejudice are unacceptable and reprehensible.

In the meantime, think about this. Would you have protested Rav Lior's visit? And what will you do next time you encounter reprehensible behavior?

Missiles in the South and Parashat Toldot

This week's parsha finds Isaac in the South, the Negev, under attack. The people of Gerar perceive him as a foreigner, accusing him of usurping their land, and they challenge his right to live in the region. However, in contrast to Abraham who is a transient shepherd, Isaac is a farmer who is deeply connected to the land, making the desert bloom and digging for water deep into the soil. He refuses to be intimidated into abandoning his farm, his land. He digs and finds a well of spring water. He gives it a name - "Esek" - which means contention or dispute. Isaac is not flustered. He digs another well and names it "Sitnah" - Enmity or Hostility. Clearly the conflict continues unabated. Isaac represents the quality of Gevurah, tenacity, persistence, and he doesn't give up. However, the 3rd well that he digs reflects the fact that he has prevailed in his struggle. He calls it "Rehovot" indicative of space, relief, calm. Once the people of Gerar understand that he is not going to leave, and that he is growing stronger, they accept his presence and approach him to make peace. (Read Genesis 26:12-33.)

This could not be more relevant and resonant to events "down South" this week. We, like our father Isaac, will grip the land, and we will not be intimidated by those who seek to dislodge us. We too will persist so that we may flourish here, and eventually, when they accept our presence here, achieve peace with our neighbours.

Shabbat Shalom!

Rosh Hashanna 5773 - Shofar and God's Love of Israel

On the one hand, the cycle of the Jewish year is predictable and familiar: The solemnity of Yom Kippur, the smells and feel of the Sukka and the 4 species, the warmth and intimacy of Hannnuka, Purim's raucous frivolity, the tunes and tastes of Seder night, the lilt of Eikha on the 9th of Av, and so forth. We know what to anticipate, and we look forward to the special atmosphere that each holiday brings.

And yet, each year is unique. Something is happening in my life this year that is different from last year. As individuals, we face new concerns and challenges; our health, our finances, our family undergo change and development. Our insights expand us, new experiences unlock fresh emotions and understanding. Nationally, the challenges of Israel and the Jewish people shift and fluctuate with time. And so, in some way, each year is experienced anew.

And so, looking towards Rosh Hashanna, I found myself seeking an insight that will generate new kavanna, a fresh perspective to inspire the powerful davening experience of the day. I would like to share the following idea which has excited me this year. I hope it will affect you as well.

Parashat Balak records the famous blessings (that might have been curses) uttered by Bilaam. In those blessings Bilaam praises the unique relationship between God and Israel: 

לֹא הִבִּיט אָוֶן בְּיַעֲקֹב וְלֹא רָאָה עָמָל בְּיִשְׂרָאֵל יְהוָה אֱלֹהָיו עִמּוֹ וּתְרוּעַת מֶלֶךְ בּוֹ.

"He has not beheld iniquity in Jacob, Neither has he seen perverseness in Israel; The Lord his God is with him, And the shout of a king is among them." (Bamidbar 23:21)

This passuk is particularly applicable to Rosh Hashanna as it features in the series of ten pesukim recited in the malkhuyot section of Musaf. On first reading it seems pretty straightforward in expressing God's love of Israel in that He overlooks our sins and faults. The verse's four clauses tell us that 1.) God ignores our sins, 2.) He is oblivious to our flaws, moreover 3.) "The Lord God is with him" i.e. with Israel, in other words He actively associates His identity with the Jewish people. But then we have the concluding phrase – "Teruat Melekh" - "and the shout (Terua) of a king is among them" - and this is difficult to understand. What is this "shout" or "fanfare" of the king? And how does it feature in connection with Israel?

Ibn Ezra writes: ותרועת מלך בו: במחנה ישראל וזה ותקעתם תרועה – "The Terua of the king is within him: In the camp of Israel, and this is what is indicated by   'And they shall sound the Terua.'(Bamidbar 10,5)."

Ibn Ezra is quoting a passuk that describes how trumpets were sounded when the Israelites journeyed in the wilderness. But how is this shofar blast demonstrative of God? In fact, when we read the context in Bamidbar, it seems like a signal, indicating to the throngs of Israel announcing that they would be breaking camp. Why is the pre-travel alarm signal defined as "the Terua of the King?"

Sephorno's reading offers one line of interpretation:

הם תוקעים תרועה בנסוע המשכן לשמחה שיגילו במלכם –
"They sounded a [trumpet] blast when the Mishkan traveled to express joy, delighting in their King [God]." In other words, this was a "blast of the king" because the Terua sound heralded the movement of the Mishkan, not the nation. This fanfare underscored God's presence amidst them. Israel's honor was the fact that God established His earthly residence amongst them, so that even when they journeyed, God's presence traveled with them.

These commentaries share the interpretation that the verse refers to an actual trumpet blast blown in the camp of Israel. However, this reading creates an imbalance in the passuk as the first 3 clauses refer to God's action, whereas the 4th clause depicts Israel's act (of sounding the trumpets.)

The Ramban however reads this phrase as God's action rather than Israel's: "ותרועת מלך גבור בו שלא ינוצח לעולם" – "The mighty King's war-shout (Terua) is amongst them, that they will never be defeated." In other words, the "Terua" is not a trumpet blast at all, but it refers to the sounds of war. This phrase states that God will ensure Israel's victory on the battlefield.

But Rashi contributes the most creative and surprising reading:

"ותרועת מלך בו: לשון חבה ורעות כמו רעה דוד אוהב דוד ויתנה למרעהו וכן תרגם אונקלוס ושכינת מלכהון ביניהון" – "A Language of love and friendship, as in 'The friend of David' (II Sam 15:37), [and see Judges 15:6]…"

For Rashi, the "Terua" is not a blast of the horn at all, not for travel or in the battlefield. It is a derivative of the word רעות meaning friendship, affection, fondness for a beloved.

For Rashi, the verse as a whole expresses the love between God and Israel whereby, as in a human love-relationship, objectivity is swept aside, flaws are ignored, and closeness and companionship is sought. Rashi's reading is highly attractive as it remains true to theme:

"He [God] is oblivious to Jacob's sin, and fails to notice Israel's errors, The Lord his God is with him, And the love of the king is extended to him [Israel]."

Here the word "Terua" is transformed from a horn blast to a deep emotion of love. If we can apply this to our Rosh Hashanna – the "Yom Terua;" God commands us to sound the Shofar, but that very word, and hence that gesture is symbolic and expressive of God's friendship and love towards Israel. Traditionally, the Terua instills a sense of dread, a feeling of fear. At Mt. Sinai, the people heard the shofar and trembled. And yet we are proposing a model which is the polar opposite. We sound a fanfare to God, but in truth God is giving us the Terua - a gift of love - which is a divine opportunity to celebrate the special relationship, the eternal love of God for His nation. And as we blow the Shofar of God's devotion and affection, we hope that God, in his love, will overlook the sins of Israel.

How Jewish are the Olympics?

I don't mean to spoil the party, but I need to say that there is something very cruel about the Olympics. An athlete trains, wins competitions, spends years of discipline, toil and sweat in dedication to their sport, excels in their field, and then is named the leading sportsman of their country. Then the athlete travels to the Olympic games, and comes 8th. No medal, no national anthem. The next day, the newspaper discusses their "failure" and they are interviewed on national radio in a spirit of commiseration and disappointment. Now, let us get this in perspective - this is the most supreme athlete in their country. This person is the 8th fastest/ strongest/ most skilled sportsman in the WORLD. This person lost by a fraction of a second, or by a 1/100th of a point. And they are cruelly discarded into the  garbage dump of history.

Now does this make any sense at all?  Why is this competition so narrow, so inconsiderate? The winner takes all, and the loser? ... what is left for the loser?

All of this gave me pause to consider Rav Soloveitchik's comments in his article, Catharsis (Tradition, 1978)

The mere myth of the hero gave the aesthete endless comfort. At least, the classical aesthete said to himself, there was an individual who dared to do the impossible and to achieve the grandiose. In short, the hero of classical man was the grandiose figure with whom, in order to satisfy his endless vanity, classical man identified himself: hero worship is basically self-worship. The classical idea of heroism, which is aesthetic in its very essence, lacks the element of absurdity and is intrinsically dramatic and theatrica1. The hero is an actor who performs in order to impress an appreciative audience. The crowd cheers, the chronicler records, countless generations afterwards admire, bards and minstrels sing of the hero. The classical heroic gesture represents, as I said before, frightened, disenchanted man, who tries to achieve immortality and permanence by identifying himself with the heroic figure on the stage. It does not represent a way of life. It lasts for a while, vibrant and forceful,  but soon man reverts to the non-heroic mood of everyday living.

This depiction accurately describes the Olympic games. It is about the human with superhuman strength - the figure of the "superhero" - who demonstrates the limits of human achievement and thereby wows us, somehow generating the confidence that we too share some of that greatness, that someone will save the world. It is about the show, the cheering crowds, but what does it have to do with me? Rav Reuven Ziegler explains the Rav in the following way:

"Catharsis" is a Greek term denoting purifying or purging (as when one purges gold of its impurities in a crucible). In his "Poetics," Aristotle defined the function of tragedy as catharsis of the emotions of terror and pity. Man is often troubled; he is full of anxieties which interfere with his social success. When he watches a tragic drama at the theater, he releases these emotions in a controlled and safe environment, emerging from the experience cleansed.

Although the Rav does not directly compare his notion of catharsis with that of Aristotle, the contrast is staggering (and certainly intentional). For the Rav, catharsis is not the passive response of a theatergoer but an active and demanding way of life. It is designed to attain not equanimity but redemption, to produce not an arrogant patrician but a sanctified personality balancing majesty and humility. While Greek tragedy teaches that man is an object acted upon by random forces and suffering an inexorable fate, Judaic catharsis is a means for man, as a subject, to connect himself actively to a higher destiny.

So what does Rav Soloveitchik offer as an alternative to the brute strength of the athlete, the theatrical experience of the "Games"? Rav Soloveitchik proposes that every person can become a hero! They will not be the fastest or strongest; but גבורה as opposed to כח (brute strength) is a quality of the mind, a spirit of endurance. For Rav Soloveitchik, adherence to Halakha that takes place in the privacy of a Jewish home; the commitment and self-control inherent in that system - THAT is heroism. And this is a different type of Catharsis, because it actively purifies our lives, our spiritual selves. It is not a show; it is life itself:

"It often happens that a man takes a wife when he is forty years of age. When... he wishes to associate with her, she says to him, 'I have seen a rose-red speck (of menstrual blood),' he immediately recoils. What made him retreat and keep away from her? Was there an iron fence, did a serpent bite him, did a scorpion sting him? ... Only the words of the Torah which are as soft as a bed of lilies." ( Shir ha Shirim R. to Song 7:3.)

Bride and bridegroom are young, physically strong and passionately in love with each other. Both have patiently waited for this rendezvous to take place. Just one more step and their love would have been fulfilled, a vision realized. Suddenly the bride and groom make a movement of recoiL. He, gallantly, like a chivalrous knight, exhibits paradoxical  heroism. He takes his own defeat. There is no glamor attached to his withdrawal ... The heroic act did not take place in the presence of jubilating crowds; no bards will sing of these two modest, humble young people. It happened in the sheltered privacy of their home, in the stillness of the night.

Of course athletes have enormous self-discipline, and yet, for me, the Olympics fail to relate. Judaism is not measured by who comes 1st, second or third, by the speed of the 100m, or the most exquisite equestrian performance. Rather, it is about the sanctity of the homes that we create, of the small acts of kindness, of the daily self-control, of the struggle with the evil inclination, of the life lived in adherence to a higher calling, of dedication to God, which in turn elevates and purifies man.

Pirkei Avot expresses the irony that the גבור - the athlete or hero - is not the person who exhibits greatest physical  prowess, but rather the inner strength - הכובש את יצרו.

King David. Two Perspectives (Daf Yomi - Berakhot 3b-4a)

On the Israeli Religious Zionist scene, a storm has raged in recent weeks about the proper way to study Tanakh (Bible). Does one study the text itself, or does one approach Tanakh exclusively through the filter of Hazal (the early Rabbis)? Now this is a highly politicized debate, but at some level it has focused upon the appropriate manner in which to treat Biblical characters, in particular the heroic ones. Should they be viewed as real people, great people, but with human achievements and also failings, or, alternatively, should they be seen as exemplary, almost superhuman role-models, whose sins are not open to assessment on a regular human sale of measurement?

This question is regularly brought to the fore in my Tanakh classroom, when studying Jacob's trickery of his father, or David's sin with Batsheva and Uriah. How should we assess these figures?

Well, in today's Daf Yomi, we see a classic example of one Rabbinic way of viewing King David that seems at variance with the Tanakh text.

Berakhot 3b-4a views David as the most pious of men, who spends his nights studying Torah and praying to God.

R. Ashi says: Till midnight he (King David) studied the Torah, from thence on he recited songs and praises.

He is a posek, a Rabbinic expert who issues Halakhic rulings on laws of Nidda and the like:

Thus spoke David before the Holy One, blessed be He: Master of the world, am I not pious? All the kings of the East and the West sit with all their pomp among their company, whereas my hands are soiled with the blood [of menstruation], with the foetus and the placenta, in order to declare a woman clean for her husband

David's advisor Benaayah is the head of the Sanhedrin, and the Kreti and Pleti are the scholars themselves.
I have frequently pondered upon the difference between a Tanakh-based education in the regard, as opposed to a Talmud based education. Let me explain. My children, and the students in the Religious Zionist school system meet David first as a warrior through the pages of Sefer Shemuel. He is the man first described in I Samuel ch. 16 as a man who is:

"... skillful in playing (the harp), a man of valor, a man of war, prudent in speech, and a man of good presence, and the LORD is with him."

Our students hear about how he kills the lion and bear, they watch him defeat Goliath and rise up the ranks in the army. They also know him as a principled man who will not kill the king, who wishes to build the Temple,  who understands his place "before God" as he dances in a sense of wild abandon before the Ark, who occasionally sins, but who lives his life with a palpable sense of God in all that he does. They may also know David's religious persona - his humility, passion, repentance, thankfulness, faith, God-awareness - from the Book of Tehillim. But the primary perspective of David is of a man involved in state affairs, a warrior, a deeply religious man, but a worldly person. This is the rpism through which they will view the trials and tribulations, the sins and triumphs that characterized his life.

But for the student who draws a perception of David from Massechet Berachot, David arises every night to sing God's praises, he is a man who debates technical Halakhic minutiae; he is first and foremost a man of prayer, a Talmud scholar. In a similar perception, the Talmud (Sanhedrin 49a) turns Joab's assassination of Avner into a complicated Halakhic debate about the laws of Halitza. David's warriors: Banayahu, Joab, Avner, are in fact, warriors of the Law.

My children see David in army uniform; the children of Meah Shearim see him in a long black coat sitting in the Beit Midrash. The difference is huge.

I am fully aware that at the foundation of this discussion is the genre of Talmudic aggada. Should aggada be understood as metaphor or read literally? When the Rabbis discussed biblical (and even Rabbinic) figures, were they discussing the past, or describing their contemporary reality? 

But I return to the fundamental point. What is my base line? When discussing characters in Tanakh, do I start with the Tanakh or the Talmud?

Only in Israel...

Only in Israel do they make a stamp dedicated to my favourite Tanakh!

(And in other related news, Microsoft were just forced to pay out 520,000 NIS as compensation/damages to Koren for using the Koren font without permission, in MS Word!)

The Halakhic Spring - Jews Are Doin' It For Themselves

There was an interesting article in Haaretz this weekend about kosher restaurants that are abandoning their Kashrut licences due to their opposition to stringent rabbinic-authority standards, their high fees or simply kashrut inspectors who aren't qualified to do their jobs. These places remain loyal to kashrut but not to the rabbinic certification. Let me quote a few lines:

The Jerusalem Rabbinate requires restaurants that want a kashrut certificate to use only hydroponic produce, commonly known as "Gush Katif," because it's bug-free.
"You can't work with this lettuce," said restaurant owner Shai Gini. "It's not tasty, and you need three or four Gush Katif lettuces for every ordinary head of lettuce I'd buy in the [open-air] market." 

I have written in the past about the high price of increasingly stringent kashrut standards by which "kosher food is now more kosher than ever, and being eaten by fewer Jews!" One of the interesting observations in the article pointed out that ultimately, real kashrut in a restaurant relies on trust. Without the sense that the proprietor is genuinely committed to enforcing kashruth in his restaurant, anyone can betray the system when the supervisors back is turned!

Carousela's Vadai, who is Haredi, said he was disgusted that he was paying for supervision, but "no one ever came to check" his cafe. Many restaurant owners have said the same for years: A kashrut certificate is no guarantee that the restaurant is actually kosher, since at best, inspectors usually make only brief daily visits. Just last week, the Makor Rishon newspaper published a report detailing numerous cases in which the rabbinate declined to take away a restaurant's kashrut certificate - which, after all, provides it with income - even after blatantly nonkosher food was found...."Before there were certificates, kashrut was based on trust," said Topolino's Gini. "But the [rabbinate] system, like any bureaucratic system, always needs to invent more and more rules to strengthen its control over its community. There's a competition over who is stricter, and the customers lose."

Now, I do have worries about the kashrut in these eateries, beacuse, after all, vegetables do need to be properly checked and kashruth supervision does provide a certain impetus. But if we can move beyond the specific restaurant and kashruth issue, it was this paragraph that really caught my eye:

People familiar with the phenomenon say it is part of a more general trend: Israelis who care about observing Jewish law, including kashrut, but want nothing to do with the official rabbinate. Other aspects of this trend include weddings, funerals and even conversions in which the rabbinate is uninvolved.

This is quite a fascinating trend of a growing empowerment within the younger religious-zionist population in Israel, and around the world. It is happening in non-orthodox circles as well. Examples of this are independent minyanim, amongst them the Shira Chadasha movement, self-proclaimed as Orthodox, but unrecognised by most Orthodox rabbis! One finds non-rabbinic Jews making halakhic decisions for themselves without consulting with Rabbis - about birth control, hair covering and personal standards of dress, but also about communal issues that would have been under the purview of a Rabbi. Recently I have observed growing numbers of visitors to Israel for the chagim (holidays) confidently making their own decision of how many days yomtov to keep (1, 2, 1 and half) and many making their choice independently rather than under direct instruction of their Rabbi. We are talking about halakhic practices that are emerging from committed, educated young observant Jews. Journalist, Yair Ettinger wrote a series last summer about how religious Israelis are sidestepping the Rabbinate on marriage, divorce and burial, and any number of modern-orthodox weddings that I have attended recently  have included creative elements, especially as regards inclusion of women. 

I sense that this is a growing movement, and I think we can point to a few roots of this phenomenon. To start, today many young Jews find themselves highly educated and textually proficient. Today's generation are far more knowledgeable than in the past. In Israel many have spent five years or more in post high-school Yeshivot and Judaic university programs. From the US and UK, many have spent significant time in text learning environments. These people understand how the texts work and are confident that they can reach independent conclusions on the basis of those sacred texts. At times, their feeling is that mainstream halakhic practice fails to reflect their own values, and in search of greater authenticity, they decide, quite autonomously, to act independently.

In addition, this is reflective of a shift in the modern zeitgeist at large to a more empowered environment. I say this in regards to the Facebook, or social media revolution which has given greater leverage to rank and file individuals, from the "cottage-cheese protest" here in Israel last summer, to the Arab Spring.. The sense is that in today's world, the average citizen should exercise his or her voice. Furthermore, with the rise of the internet, expert information is merely a click away. In previous eras, expertise was rare, guarded, and out of reach. Nowadays, every person feels that they can become something of an expert, reading up on the topic at hand. This allows individuals to feel more informed and more capable of independent decision making.

But it goes deeper than that. Let me illustrate with a story. Some years ago, my son went to visit a lung specialist for a mild asthma problem. The doctor asked him a series of questions, like, "If you play football, are you short of breath?" or , "How many times a month do you need to take your inhaler?" At the end, he posed the question: "Well, do you think that you need to be taking your inhaler daily then?" And my son, hesitantly and rather bemused, responded, "um ... um ... that's what we've come to ask you?!"

I find that this pattern repeats itself in many fields. A generation ago, the investment manager would decide for his client which fund to invest in. Now he gives you a menu of options with the upside and downside of each , and you decide.

The school doesn't instruct a child what to matriculate in. They discuss the options, and expect the student together with his parents to make the final decision.

Expertise doesn't have the same authoritative veneer as it once did, and many questions are thrown back to the individual. Whether we have lost faith in a single correct answer in a post-modernist world, or whether the experts are simply afraid of getting it wrong, the average person makes his or her own life decisions.

And similarly in the religious sphere. The Israeli Religious-Zionist world, once a homogeneous identity, has refracted into a huge number of sub-groups, each with their particular nuance and emphasis, dress, songs and venerated leaders. Whether you are described as Rav Kook, Carlebach, a settler, an academic, whether your prime goal is professional success, if you are dati-lite, feminist, left-wing, gay, Breslev, and what have you, all these and more constitute the myriad strands that build what is now an individualized identity. Most Religious-Zionist people don't vote for religious parties today. People are defining themselves in new combinations, constructing their own unique identities, unafraid to practise an individualised lifestyle, and that includes all aspects of their Judaism. Let me stress, these people are not lax or disengaged from their Jewish observance; they are highly engaged, but precisely this new confidence means that frequently they are not looking for rabbinic supervision or approval. This is as true in Hampstead and on the Upper-West-Side as in Katamon and Baka.

And so we are facing a new reality. Rabbis wake up! This is where the people are. Do we know how to provide a Judaism that will be attractive to this generation? Is this a blessing, an opportunity, or a danger to Judaism? Where will this lead us?

Comments are welcome below....

Yom Yerushalayim 5772

למה ירושלים תמיד שתים, של מעלה ושל מטה

ואני רוצה לחיות בירושלים של אמצע

בלי לחבוט את ראשי למעלה ובלי לפצוע את רגלי למטה.

ולמה ירושלים בלשון זוגית כמו ידיים ורגלים, 

אני רוצה להיות רק בירושל אחת

כי אני רק אני אחד ולא אניים

(יהודה עמיחי. פתוח סגור פתוח. דף 144)

Jerusalem.

United and divided, Holy and profane,

Consensus and contentious,

Of dreams and reality,

Of peace and of pain,

Of the One True God, and the God of all humanity.

… If only it could be simple!

But then would it be Jerusalem?

So, today is Yom Yerushalayim!
Was a beautiful tefilla and special Hallel today with feelings of gratitude for the gifts with which God has blessed us. 
Here are some of my favourite Jerusalem blog-posts over the years. Looking back at them, I now realise that several of them deal with the clash between the Dream and Reality.

Shopping in Jerusalem on Jerusalem Day

Make Yom Yerushalayim a National Holiday!

The Kotel isn't a Parking Lot!

Visiting Har Habayit

Nahem

Live the Dream!

The Israel Museum (#2)

A magical night at the Kotel

Here is another (less cynical, more beautiful) one from Yehuda Amichai:

למה ירושלים, למה אני

למה לא עיר אחרת למה לא אדם אחר?

פעם עמדתי לפני הכותל המערבי

ופתאום, להקת ציפורים עלתה למעלה

בקריאות ובמשק כנפיים, כמו פתקות בקשה

שהשתחררו מבין האבנים הגדולות והכבדות

ועפו אל על

Yom Hazikaron 5772

עקדת יצחק/ נעמי שמר

קח

את בנך

את יחידך

אשר אהבת

קח

את יצחק

והעלהו לעולה

על אחד ההרים

במקום

אשר אמר אליך

והעלהו לעולה

על אחד ההרים

בארץ המוריה.

ומכל ההרים

שבארץ ההיא

תעלה צעקה גדולה:

הנה האש

והנה העצים

והנהו השה לעולה

רבונו של עולם

המלא רחמים

אל הנער ידך

אל תשלח

אל הנער

ידך אל תשלח.

גם אם שבע נחיה

ונזקין

לא נשכח כי הונף

הסכין

לא נשכח את בנך

את יחידך

אשר אהבנו

לא נשכח

את יצחק.


 more here and here ...

Marc Shapiro on Women Rabbis and Kol Isha

I have blogged recently about issues relating to women's ordination and  modesty. In the sphere of our contemporary grapplings with Halakha that relates to gender , I very much enjoyed two blog posts on the topic by Marc Shapiro. He does not hide his personal predilections and is clearly in favour of an increased woman's leadership role in the Orthodox community. However, even if you are not in that space, the sources he brings are important reading.

Ordination 
Kol Isha
Thanks to the Sephorim Blog.

Let me add that this article by Rabbi Michael Broyde and Rabby Shlmomo Brody is one of the better presentations - informative, sensitive, correct balance between traditional and progressive - that I have seen on the topic.

Yom Hashoah 5772

My "minhag" on the evening of Yom Hashoah  is to watch the ceremony at Yad Vashem. I always find it so dignified, so Jewish, so touching and emotional. Peres spoke just beautifully. For all my friends in chutz la'aretz, this is one of those days that can only be experienced in Israel where the day fills the public space. One cannot go out to eat this evening, nor shop at the mall. They are all closed. Yom Hashoah is a national day of mourning and so it should be.

This is the incredibly evocative poster from Yad Vashem to commemorate Yom Hashoah this year:

But as I though about this image It dawned upon me that the picture is wrong.

Of course the image aims to portray a Holocaust survivor and the "shadow" as he was as a child before the war, along with his family who have perished. We witness this broken man and see the shadow of his past.

But this image is skewed; it is only half the truth. Why? Because so many survivors are not alone; they have wonderful families and accomplishments. Each of the six Holocaust survivors who lit the 6 torches at Yad Vashem tonight were accompanied by their relatives - most of them, by a grandchild. For this image to be truly representative, the Holocaust survivor should be surrounded by his descendants, the future, the tree that has grown out of the seed of a single survivor. In some cases, he will be surrounded by 2 or 3 family members, in other families it will be 10 or twenty or fifty, or more! Thank God, the "dry bones" of the worn, starved, and beaten survivors have given birth, in many instances, to beautiful families. (...to paraphrase Sanhedrin 92b "R. Eliezer the son of R. Jose the Galilean said: The dead whom Ezekiel revived went up to Eretz Yisrael, married wives and begat sons and daughters. R. Judah b. Bathyra rose up and said: I am one of their descendants, and these are the tefillin  which my grandfather left me [as an heirloom] from them." or Tehillim 107:41.)

Alongside all the pain and suffering, we live with hope. As Netanyahu said this evening: "עם ישראל חי". The Holocaust survivors that I know: Solly Irving, Ralph Aron z"l, Leah and Yoseph Friedler of Alon Shevut, are all exemplars of this amazing reality of the renewal of our people. They, along with every survivor that I have ever met, are shining models of inspiration, courage and optimism.

Two interesting and thought provoking pieces that I read this year - worth reading -  here and here.

I will finish by remembering the names of my mother's family who were murdered in the Shoah as we remember all the Six Million:

My grandfather's grandmother, 2 uncles, an aunt and 7 cousins:

Hinda bat Yehuda Leib

Sarah Keila bat Elimelech

Yosef ben Elimelech

Yehuda Langer (Sarah Keila’s husband)

Yehudith Fayga Alta bat Yehuda

Shifra bat Yehuda

Avraham ben Yosef

Naftali ben Yosef

Yechiel ben Yosef

Perle bat Yosef

Gittel bat Yosef

And from my father's family ( - my grand-parents fled from Germany in February 1939):

My great-grandfather Sali Israel, killed in Theresiensdadt, 23 April 1943

His 2nd wife, Bertha Goldschmidt, killed in Auschwitz, 18 May 1944

Imgard Israel (aunt)

Arthur Israel and his wife Bella, and their daughter Renate (uncle)

Hari Israel (uncle)

Raisa Garabaska (cousin)

Hugo Israel, killed in Riga Camp, 1942 (uncle)

תהיינה נפשותם צרורות בצרור החיים

הַרְנִינוּ גויִם עַמּו כִּי דַם עֲבָדָיו יִקּום וְנָקָם יָשִׁיב לְצָרָיו וְכִפֶּר אַדְמָתו עַמּו:

A Book Library in a Digital Age

I love my book collection. We have books in almost every room of our home, and they give me never-ending pleasure. 

On a Shabbat visit of my yeshiva students, they began to discuss whether it was worth accumulating books in a digital age. After all, most of our music and our photographs, our documentation and correspondence, has all shifted to the computer or hand-held e-device. It is worth asking why we still hold on to books in this day and age. Will they become obsolete?

I have an exceptionally strong attachment to my library. My well-worn Mishna Kahati sits next to to my Mishna Berura with my carefully written notes and highlighting. My Shas (Talmud) was a gift from my grandfather z"l for my bar-mitzva. A shelf of Rav Kook's philosophy and letters sits adjacent to a similar shelf of the writings of Rav Soloveitchik. Israeli poetry, contemporary fiction, books of my mentors Rav Amital and Rav Lichtenstein, classic Responsa, Bible commentary, new and old. Interesting combinations: Scholem and Shagar; Mandela and Scharansky, the Rambam alongside the Kuzari, Louis Jacobs with Rabbi Jakobovitz, and so forth. My library is my world. Every volume is a friend. Some volumes have shared deep and touching moments with me, others continue to accompany me on a daily basis, some will always be distant acquaintances, and there are others that I have yet to converse with, but I am happy for the presence of each and every one of them. This one I bought at Book Week, that one has a great autograph, another I picked out of a Jerusalem recycling dumpster that lay open, this is the massekhet that I am currently learning, and my battered Tanakh has over twenty-five years of mileage behind it.

This paean to my library was stimulated by an eloquent piece by Leon Wieseltier that I read today (link h/t Bookjed) . It elegantly and accurately articulates the perennial need for the authentic, old fashioned books; the hold-in-your-hand, have-on-the-shelf type. I couldn't say it better. Enjoy! :

THE LIBRARY, like the book, is under assault by the new technologies, which propose to collect and to deliver texts differently, more efficiently, outside of space and in a rush of time. If ever I might find a kind word for the coming post-bibliographical world it would be this week, when I have to pack up the thousands of volumes in my office and reassemble them a short distance away—they are so heavy, they take up so much room, and so on; but even now, with the crates piled high in the hall, what I see most plainly about the books is that they are beautiful. They take up room? Of course they do: they are an environment; atoms, not bits. My books are not dead weight, they are live weight—matter infused by spirit, every one of them, even the silliest. They do not block the horizon; they draw it. They free me from the prison of contemporaneity: one should not live only in one’s own time. A wall of books is a wall of windows. And a book is more than a text: even if every book in my library is on Google Books, my library is not on Google Books. A library has a personality, a temperament. (Sometimes a dull one.) Its books show the scars of use and the wear of need. They are defaced—no, ornamented—by markings and notes and private symbols of assent and dissent, and these vandalisms are traces of the excitations of thought and feeling, which is why they are delightful to discover in old books: they introduce a person. There is something inhuman about the pristinity of digital publication. It lacks fingerprints. But the copy of a book that is on my shelf is my copy. It is unlike any other copy, it has been individuated; and even those books that I have not yet opened—unread books are an essential element of a library—were acquired for the further cultivation of a particular admixture of interests and beliefs, and every one of them will have its hour. The knowledge that qualifies one to be one’s own librarian is partly self-knowledge. The richness, or the incoherence, of a library is the richness, or the incoherence, of the self.

Re-discovering the Kotel - A Magical Night at the Wall

Last night was the first time I have been to the Kotel in almost a year. I admit this with a real sense of guilt. I have always been committed to visiting the Kotel at least for each of the שלש רגלים in fulfilment of the Torah’s prescription:

"שלוש פעמים בשנה יראה כל זכורך את פני האדון ה' אלקי ישראל"

However, in recent years my regular chol hamoed visits have become increasingly unpleasant. The throngs that flock to Jerusalem over Chag have been (Barukh Hashem) so overwhelming that one year, we experienced a policeman directing the pedestrian traffic through the Rova. The parking has been impossible, and so what might have been a somewhat short visit to daven has become a hot, tiring, crowded trek for the entire family. In addition the pilgrimage has lacked a particularly spiritual component, as with the Kotel so full, it is difficult to concentrate or focus, and one is concerned to lose one of the kids. So, last chol hamoed, for the first time in about 20 years, I just didn’t go.

Well – after my highly positive experience at the Kotel last night, I have a new plan.

I went there to give a shiur to my Talmidim. Yeshivat Eretz Hatzvi was holding its end-of-winter-zman “Mishmar” - learning all night with Vatikin at dawn – by the Wall.  I arrived at the Old City at 12:30 and headed to the Wall.   

As I emerged from the car, the air was fresh, the streets were quiet, serene, calm. Whenever one goes to the Kotel one anticipates an experience of “Klal Yisrael” – an encounter with a mix of  Jews that communicates a deep feeling that beyond our diversity and difference, that there is a fundamental unity of all Jews. This was my mindset as I made my way from Sha’ar HaAshpot towards the security checkpoint. It didn't take long to engage with that diversity. Far ahead were 3 Yeshiva Students. About twenty yards behind me were 4 people –  two couples – smiling, jovially teasing one another. They were secular; the women in jeans, the men bare-headed. But they too were making their way to the Wall. Alongside me, an elegantly dressed young lady wearing leggings, carrying a designer handbag walked with a sense of purpose. Who was this woman, I wondered? I was trying to define her, to label her into one of the classic categories, the “tribes” in which we live. As she approached the washbasin, she washed her hands with the washing cup – 3 times alternately. By the way she washed her hand, it was evident that she was accustomed to this ritual. Was she religious? Secular? Newly religious? Once religious? - Who knows? Did she come here regularly? Was she here to pray for someone sick? ... it really didn’t matter. I proceeded, enjoying the fact that we were all here, together; lots of different stereotypes. Tonight, it felt like we all belonged here, in all our difference.  

The Kotel was calm, beautiful and reverent. Even the people calling us for a minyan – “Arvit; Arvit!” - made their announcement in soft tones. The Hazzan who lead my minyan – a red-head Hassidic man – davened with expressive kavvana. A simple, daily Ma'ariv, became elevated. Somehow, whenever I am at the Kotel, I sense that I have a special opportunity to stand at the “Gate of Heaven” and to really speak to God. I tried to inject my tefilla with special meaning, to genuinely connect with God. At this late hour, there was no rushing, no pushing; the minyan took its time.

And then, giving shiur. The Yeshiva were congregated there, all sitting at shtenders in the inner area, under Wilson’s Arch, some in havrutot, some learning alone. One or two boys had fallen asleep. I gave shiur to 25 guys, all huddled together, and I tried to communicate to them a sense of our special historic privilege. I told the boys: “Look where we are! Some 2 thousand years ago, our forefathers walked across the bridge above our heads leading the lambs into the Temple, to bring the Korban Pesach! Jews yearned for thousands of years to stand at this very spot. We may not have a Beit Hamikdash, but the Shekhina never leaves this site. We can still fulfill our obligation (Shemot 23:17) to “present ourselves” before God’s presence.” My shiur was Pesach oriented – Redemption, Eliyahu Hanavi, and other related themes. 1 a.m. and I was inspired by the fire of Eliyahu Hanavi, and the interest of my students.

I emerged from the tunnel area after bidding my students a good night of learning. I had work the next day and couldn’t manage without a few hours sleep. The entire prayer area was virtually empty. The larger plaza was also deserted. But then I saw them -  a  Chattan and Kalla, a bride and groom - deep in prayer, standing right at the front of the Kotel plaza. It was 2am. Here was a young Haredi couple who had come to the Kotel straight from their wedding! What was beautiful about this scene was that they were all alone! It looked strange; one does not generally see a man and woman praying alongside one another at the Kotel. But of course, this couple who had married some hours earlier didn’t want to separate from one another. They didn’t go down to the prayer area, but instead, stood together, in perfect harmony, swaying together, praying together. What were they  davening for? For the future of their lives together? Were they praying for the sick and needy of Israel, having absorbed the tradition that a Chattan and Kalla on their wedding day have a special spiritual power to pray for others? It was a beautiful scene. Although they were distant from me and oblivious to my presence in this most public place, I almost felt like I was intruding on their intimate, special moment. I marvelled at this young couple who felt a need to bring God so palpably into their relationship and personal joy.

So, I thought to myself, I have now discovered that this is the time of day to come to the Kotel. I think I am going to try to visit regularly now, late at night, at this magical hour when all is calm, when one can daven without interruption, when the Kotel returns to being enchanting, spiritual, inspirational. It is wonderful to have re-discovered my path back to the Kotel.

Chag Kasher Vesameach!

My New Book - Melakhim I - Torn in Two

I went to my publishers this morning - Maggid/Koren - to work on some maps and charts for my upcoming book and I was delighted to see that it appears in the new book catalogue. Here is the cover picture, and here is the text:

A sweeping study of the Book of Kings I, which addresses both broad themes and the details of the Biblical text. Drawing upon a rich skill set from midrashic and traditional medieval commentary to modern literary analysis, Rabbi Alex Israel's easy writing style opens this book to the modern reader. Whether discussing the complex personality of Solomon, the construction of the Temple, the split of the Kingdom, or the evil Ahab, this work offers the reader a clear structure to this complicated book, and a guide to its key spiritual messages. This book is an insightful companion to the study of Sefer Melakhim.

The book will be published by Maggid in Spring 2012 בע"ה 

Modesty and the "Women Problem"

The news has been filled with stories about the status of women in Israeli society:

Women relegated to the back of the bus, women eliminated from public street posters, 8 year-old girls attacked due to their "lack of modesty." We are witnessing a growing situation in which religious groups have succeeded in marginalizing women within the public space or excluding them from it, as women are viewed as a temptation, a sexual distraction.

I am a religiously observant person, a Rabbi, and yet I deem this interpretation as a distortion and falsification of Judaism's idea of modesty. I have spent some time recently trying to articulate where the problem lies; after all, I too subscribe to values of modesty. Let me attempt to explain it as I see it.

Some years ago, a Rabbi friend told me the following story. A congregant had approached him and asked to speak to him about a situation that was on his mind. The Rabbi asked him what the problem was:

"Well Rabbi," He said, "Yesterday, I attended Sheva Berachot."

"Mazal Tov!" responded the Rabbi. "What is the problem?"

"Well, the kalla got up to give a Devar Torah" the congregant said uneasily.

""Wonderful!" responded the Rabbi.

"Well," said the man, "She was very attractive and it was inappropriate."

The Rabbi engaged him in discussion on the topic, with the congregant frustrated by his inability to express what he found as the point of his discomfort.  At a certain point, he blurted out: "A women is just, quite simply, an object of immodesty!"

When men perceive women as a sexual object, I believe that however much they hide women away, they will still be aroused by something that reminds them of the sexual. And because these men are fighting to repress their sexual urges and to somehow eliminate them, they see women everywhere, they identify sexual stimulation in the slightest reminder of a woman. They push women further and further into the background to be continually frustrated that they feel continued sexual attraction. I recall reading a book in which an Islamic woman who wears a Burka, remarked that the men could identify which women had an attractive figure and would make sexual comments to women, even as they were covered from head to toe!

So here is the point. The Haredi community is terrified that sexuality will lead its men to sin. It responds by subjecting its women to increasingly stringent standards of dress, and removing them from the public space. But despite the fact that they require women to recede, the problem endures.

Now – this entire perspective is highly un-Jewish. How so?

First, modesty in the public arena is not to achieved by suppressing women; it is not women who are to pay the price. In most places that the Shulkhan Arukh addresses modesty, the man is instructed to restrict his gaze and not to look at a woman in an inappropriately sexual manner. But it doesn't say that a woman is required to button up in order to prevent or "protect" the man. Men are expected to take care of their sexual drives and to control their eyes and minds.

I think that something else should be said about the Jewish sexual ethic. Judaism has a host of laws regarding social interaction between the sexes. A man and a woman (who are unmarried) are not to be in a closed room alone (Yichud). They are not supposed to flirt or engage in affectionate physical contact (negia). A man should not look at women to gain some erotic pleasure (Histaklut assura and hirhur). Now, these laws are there precisely because men and women interact in the public arena, and because sexual attraction does exist between men and women. Hence, in order to facilitate a non-sexualized public space, these are regulations that seek to eliminate sexual opportunity and a sexually provocative environment. But this is precisely the point: These laws allow the genders to interact. They do not restrict the mixing of the genders!

It is certainly true that contemporary Western society has created a highly sexualized, provocative, flirtatious and even promiscuous public environment. Jewish tradition should have strong critique of modern society in this regard, and any Halakhically sensitive Jew would do well to guide his life, family and home, in an alternative direction. Possibly this overt sexualization is what sends our Orthodox world into retreat. After all, when the wider society is so audacious, traditional Judaism with its emphasis upon modesty, fidelity and marriage may justifiably attempt to protect itself. And yet, the overemphasis upon laws of modesty and gender separation become absurd.  In an almost absurd and perverse reversal, it thrusts sexual attraction into the centre stage; so much so that it appears at times as if these God fearing people have sex on their mind every second of the day, as if they may succumb to illicit desire at any given moment!

Judaism is fully aware of the wild nature of sexual attraction. And yet Jewish Law has created a mechanism to keep the public space sexually neutral. If people are dressed modestly, if they don't engage in physical contact or allow themselves to be alone in private, then Halakha says that this is the standard that will ensure a holy public space.

After that, any man who has a problem must take care of his problem on his own.

Rabbi Moses Feinstein- the great American posek of the 20^th Century – ruled that a Jew may travel the subway at rush hour even if he or she is pressed against the opposite sex. His assumption was that people who were crushed together in the train, would have preferred a more spacious environment, and hence there was no intent to engage in physical contact; the entire situation being against their personal desire and that a normal person would not be subject to sexual arousal. He did warn that if a particular individual was sexually aroused by the situation, they should take care of their "problem" by travelling at non-crowded times.

Similarly here. Women can be on street posters, the buses should be mixed. At the same time, I certainly would like to see people dressing in non-provocative clothing. But even with the street as it is, the street or bus cannot be worse than a crowded subway carriage. A normal person can control their eyes and minds. Women should not pay the price here.

This can be done. Let us hope that we can build God-fearing communities, that are respectful to all genders, that exclude no group or individual, that are seen as exemplars of kindness and respect, that engage with society and sanctify God's name.