Pirkei Avot hiatus

I had a short break last week because of Pesach. I will post the next Pirkei Avot next week.

A No-confidence Vote?

In talking about the selection of Arnold Eisen as the next chancellor of JTS, Shmuel Rosner writes:

However, some tough questions arise from this choice. The first and most important one is: Where have all the rabbis gone? Aren't there any good enough rabbis to take on such a job? When one come to think of it, there once was a time in America in which rabbis cast a very long shadow (in a good sense) over the community - but these days are probably over, at least for the time being. Eisen's choice is a vote of no confidence in the new generation of rabbis.

Rosner hits the nail right on the head. Where is the next Heschel or Kaplan, Buber or Rosenzweig? Where are the Rabbinic thinkers who inspire, challenge and lead us to new and rediscovered paradigms? Is it any wonder that the Conservative movement has lost its way; there is no one to raise the flag and inspire us to follow. Who can articulate a vision for the Conservative movement that excites and inspires the laity?

Instead, we have factionalism and fragmentism. We have those who would abandon the basic tenets of the Conservative movement at the altar of modernity and pluralism. We have those whose adherence to a specific outcome decries the very notion of halachic evolution.

It is far too early to decide whether the selection of Arnold Eisen is a good one or not. But, I completely agree with Rosen that the selection of a non-Rabbi is the clearest signal to date that the Rabbinate is losing its relevance to modern Judaism.

(Update 5/9/2006 - Neither Buber nor Rozensweig were Rabbis, a fact of which I was aware, but neglected to point out in my original post. Perhaps, then, one should hope that a non-Rabbi can do what our current group of JTS Rabbis have been unable to do - to produce a vision that serious Conservative Jews want to follow )

Pirkei Avot 3.14

Rabbi Dosa ben Harkinas used to say: Late morning sleep, midday wine, children's chatter, and sitting at gatherings of the ignorant - remove a man from the world.

This is a difficult mishna to understand. If we take it literally, without any moderation, it seems quite extreme. Surely, there are times when a little extra sleep or some midday revelry are not only permissible indulgences, but can refresh and rejuvenate one for the serious task of life. Chattering with one's children, or with someone else's, can be meritorious. And the obligation to teach and to lift up our fellow Jews inevitably takes us into gatherings of those less educated. It is hard to understand what Rabbi Dosa seems to mean if we take his words at face value.

If we don't take them at face value and add that any of these things not taken in moderation can be dangerous distractions, the warning seems so obvious as to be trivial. Certainly one can not live one's life entirely in the realm of sleep, wine, children, and the ignorant. Life is serious business and the ultimate goal of life is to do G-d's will. Do we need this particular warning to remind of us of this fact?

Not knowing what to do with this text, I looked for other ways to relate it to our circumstances. It occurred to me that it was b'shert that we should reach this text immediately before Passover. The fours of Passover seem to be echoed nicely in this text. I thought that we could relate the four children of the Passover Haggadah to this text.

The child who does not know what to ask can be compared to late morning sleep. We have a duty to wake this child up. This child needs to start her learning and now is better than later.

Drinking midday wine, while it may seem like a simple indulgence, has clear overtones of anti-social behavior. Going from one drink to several is like the wicked child, for whom the rules of common behavior do not apply. The wicked child asks, what does this observance mean to you, not to me. Likewise, indulging in midday inebriation removes one from common society as if to say that those rules don't apply.

The simple child is like one whose chatter is that of children. The simple child needs our help to grow up, to mature and take his place among those who are obligated in G-d's mitzvot.

It is the wise child who understands that he will learn little by remaining amongst those who have much to learn. The wise child knows that he must seek out those who are wiser and more educated. Only by sitting at the feet of sages will he continue to grow in wisdom.

I am certain that Rabbi Dosa did not intend this connection, but this is the richness of our tradition, that it can be endlessly applied to each generation. Like the wise child, by frequenting our tradition and our sages, we continue to learn and grow.

(as presented to CAI, 4/7/2006)

The tail wagging the dog

A note about the posting shefa : Message: RE: [Shefa] Fwd: Why the Conservative movement in which the author writes:

1. how we determine halakhah should be driven by ethical


2. why we consider halakhah so important should be driven by ethical considerations.

This type of argument is so contrary to Judaism that it makes me cringe. How we determine Halachah is a process that has been handed down from generations dating back to before the destruction of the Second Temple. It is the process, rooted in our tradition, that makes the outcome sacred, not the other way around. The outcomes of that process are sacred because they have been sanctified by a process that is rooted in Torah and Oral Law. That is why the decision of the Law Committee to change the voting for a Takanah is so disturbing. Tweaking the process to achieve the desired outcome trivializes both the process and the outcome.

Judaism states that, by definition, what is in the Torah is ipso facto ethical. The Conservative movement, in dwelling on its "historical" approach has lost sight of the fact that no amount of historiography can determine which parts of the Torah are the right parts for our tradition and which parts can be discarded. The challenge that the halachic process was created to meet is to determine how to apply the ethics of the Torah. Obviously, understanding only the peshat is insufficient to this task. We need to understand the many other factors, most importantly the Oral Law, to apply the "simple" words of the Torah to our daily ethical quandries.

The purpose of Halacha and the purpose of Jewish practice is not to make us feel better or to bring us closer to G-d, though those outcomes are assumed. Its purpose is to do G-d's will and in doing so to be better people. The Halachic process is about finding out what G-d's will really is and then doing it. If we do that, then we can be assured that we are acting ethically.

The Efficacy of Prayer?

I have always been a little hesitant to join the line of those who add names to the Misha Berakh list. I wonder about when the right time is to add someone's name. Does the level of illness matter? Does the problem have to be life-threatening? When do you stop? After all, recovery is a relative thing.

Now there is a study that only adds to my lack of enthusiasm for this custom. William Saletan at Slate writes about a study that investigates the efficacy of prayer for those who are sick. Of course, the fact that this is a study that involved only Christian prayer might explain the miserable lack of success in prayer, but I wouldn't be the one to say that. (Just kidding, really :-) )

Rather, I suspect that the value of the Misha Berakh is not physical but spiritual. As the one who says it, I have taken perhaps the only concrete action that I can to "help" someone in physical duress. If I can't cure them and I have already done the chicken soup thing, what is left? There is prayer. Prayer may not directly lead to their recovery. In fact, prayer may do nothing at all to change the outcome of their sickness, but it does fill the spiritual need to be closer to both G-d and the sick person.

If I am the sick person, then prayer has a similar effect. Knowing that there are those who would pray for me, even strangers who say my name at a particular moment in a particular way, may bring me a measure of comfort. There is value in being part of a community. That value may not be medical, but it is value nevertheless.

Prayer may have nothing to do with healing, at least not of the medical kind. But is has everything to do with how we connect to G-d and to each other. We didn't need a study to tell us that.

Gay Marriage / Gay Divorce?

In a post on the Shefa Yahoo group, the writer raises the following issue:

It is also absolutely clear and inescapable that we will have to deal
with all of these issues [by which he includes the issue of determining whether the children of a homosexual couple are Jewish] (except, perhaps, gay divorce) whether or not we sanctify the relationships because whether we do or do not the relationships will be (are being) formed and children are being brought into them. Therefore the issues of determining the Jewishness of children brought into the relationship by any number of conceivable (ha!) mechanisms will have to be dealt with anyway (and not only in gay families by the way). So it is not at all true that refusing to sanctify gay marriages will avoid the necessity of dealing with these issues. We have to do that anyway.

Another writer responds and amplifies this post:

If we were to come up with kinyan/kiddushin or its equivalent for same-sex couples, depending upon the halachic basis for the ceremony, the relationship could require a get for proper termination, regardless of whether the civil authorities recognize it as a marriage or not (it's also possible that the requirement that "he" write "her" a get will be interpreted literally as not applying to any same-sex marriage).

Just as interesting is the implication for heterosexual marriage and its termination. We look the other way at the fact that halachically, the man acquires and "de-acquires" the woman; no matter how we try to make these things look and feel egalitarian, they are not. They were simply not designed in an egalitarian era, and they have been chiseled in stone since then. Thinking about their possible application to gay marriage throws this fact into stark relief. These involve two clearly equal individuals. Who acquires who? Who gives who the get?

Who knows -- maybe this is a heaven-sent opportunity to begin to break out of the kinyan-kiddushin-get formula of sanctifying and desanctifying relationships altogether. Tradition and change...

This is the worst kind of thinking on the subject. If the Conservative movement were consider any proposal that would equate a homosexual union with kinyan and kiddushin, it should be ashamed of itself. Personally, I am still on the fence with respect to how to address the issue of homosexual unions, but even if I were to accept that there can be quasi-religious commemoration of a homosexual commitment, e.g., a commitment ceremony, this is not a marriage and there is no Ketubah, no Kiddushin and therefore no Get.

If we accept that homosexuality is not a choice, but an innate preference and, further, accepting that G-d would not create homosexuals without providing an outlet for love and sexual fulfillment, we can reasonably conclude that our communities are best served when homosexuals lead committed lives and create family structures. If children are involved, there should be a stable home life with caring and committed parents, even when they are of the same sex.

But, in no way does this create a question of the Jewishness of the child. A child's Jewish status is determined by her biological mother. If the biological mother is Jewish, then the child is Jewish. If the biological mother is not Jewish, then the child must be converted. I see no reason that this issue should require any consideration in the issue of the place of homosexuals in Judaism.

Unfortunately, this is emblematic of the sloppy thinking of the Shefa crowd.

Reaching Gen-Y: The Jewlicious conference

This is an interesting article that discusses the pathways into Judaism for youg Gen-Y Jews. The real problem that is not identified in the article is not that young Jews are opting out of the traditional modes of Jewish participation. Rather the problem is that most of them have no idea what those modes are. They were raised by disconnected parents who themselves may not have known anything about Judaism except that it happens on Saturdays in a place that they rarely go.

Of course, having lost them, the question is how to welcome them back into Judaism without succumbing to the pressure to change Judaism to match their prejudices and uninformed stereotypes. The Orthodox are clearly the best at this as they command respect of kids who are at a crossroads by standing up for a principle. More than any other age group, it is the youth who respond to people who can articulate a clear and compelling vision, because that is what a young person is struggling to create for him or herself. They may ultimately reject a particiular vision, but they will have engaged with it.

The Conservative, with its constant pull to be more Reform, is losing this battle. The Conservative movement can offer little that distinguishes itself from Reform Judaism. The big non-Orthodox winner here shoudl be the Reconstructionist movement, which can articular the vision of diversity and flexibility with the trappings of traditional observance. Unfortunately for the Reconstructists, they lack any visible spokesperson to make their case.

Read more at jta.org/page_view_story...

Pirkei Avot 3.13

He (Rabbi Chaninah ben Dosa) used to say: If the spirit of one's fellows is pleased with him, the spirit of the Omnipresent is pleased with him; but if the spirit of one's fellows is iniot pleased with him, the spirit of the Omnipresent is not pleased with him.

On the surface, this Mishnah appears to be straightforward and simple. The quality of one's relationship with G-d is not secure without securing one's relationship with the community. We can not expect G-d to regard us with merit and compassion if we do not have a similar relationship with our fellows. G-d's greatest goal, peace and justice, are served only when we foster those goals within our community.

Yet, I worry that this places a great deal of power in the hands of others. Should G-d's regard for me be at the mercy of how others feel about me? Can I not merit G-d's favor, whether or not my good deeds are recognized by others?

There is a story of a wealthy miser who was known throughout his town for his refusal to give to the community charity fund. No matter how the elders of the community put their request, he would contribute little or nothing at all to help those in his town who depended on the charity of others. As the miser lay on his deathbed, the elders tried once more, arguing with him that his place in the World to Come may depend on his willingness to repent his miserly ways. He refused, turning his face to the wall. When the miser died, their anger against him was so great that the elders debated whether he deserved a place in the cemetery.

Then, a curious thing happened. The Rabbi noticed that the requests for assistance from the charitable fund started to increase. The tailor, who had never asked before, suddenly needed help to maintain his family. The cobbler too approached the Rabbi for help, as did others in the community. The Rabbi started to investigate what was causing this increasing need in his community.

The tailor told him that he had been able to stave off his weekly struggle to earn a living because every Friday morning he would find a small bag of money on his doorstep. He had no idea where it came from, but it made the difference between his small income and what he needed to feed his family. The cobbler told the same story. As the Rabbi investigated further, he found many who had been able to make ends meet because of an unknown benefactor whose support was found on Friday mornings.

The Rabbi came to suspect that the miser was in fact this secret benefactor, and with his death came the end of his largesse. The Rabbi prayed that the soul of the miser would forgive him for his misundertanding. In a dream, the miser came to the Rabbi and told him that he held no grudge against the Rabbi, but wished only for one more Thursday night.

I tell this story to illustrate the point that we can have good deeds that go unnoticed and unmentioned. These good deeds increase our merit in G-d's eyes, though they do not affect how others view us.

I want to argue that we can understand this Mishnah differently. Rather than placing power into the hands of others to determine our merit in G-d's eyes, this Mishna creates a responsiblity in others to judge us with compassion and understanding so that we may achieve merit. It becomes the responsibility of each of us to judge our fellow in the most positive light because it is our judgement that can affect G-d's judgement. As awesome as this power may be, it is equalled by the responsibility that it brings.

(As presented to CAI 3/31/2006)

Pirkei Avot 3.11, 3.12

11. Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa says: Anyone whose fear of sin takes precedence over his wisdom, his wisdom will endure; but anyone whose wisdom takes precedence over his fear of sin, his wisdom will not endure.

12. He used to say: Anyone whose good deeds exceed his wisdom, his wisdom will endure; but anyone whose wisdom exceeds his good deeds, his wisdom will not endure.

These two statements by Rabbi Chanina seem to be at odds with what we commonly observe. What do we remember about the great thinkers from Aristotle to Kant or our own Rambam and Rashi? We remember not their deeds, but their thoughts. Their deeds are but a prooftext for the wisdom that they passed down to us. Sometimes not even that - not all great thinkers were people of piety or good behavior. What endures is the depth and importance of their thought. It is for the sake of their wisdom alone that their legacy endures.

This is not to say that only thought can endure. Certainly, there are many figures whose legacy is assured not by the quality of their thought but by the importance of their deeds. Setting aside the many villians of history, whose deeds are remembered for the harm that they caused, there are many whose good deeds and fealty to their beliefs (stretching the phrase fear of sin) are the basis of their place in history. Those who can combine both transforming thought with exceptional deed are rare and important.

Few of us can rise to the level of great thinker or great actor. Most of us are well within the normal range of human intelligence and behavior, struggling to make a difference only within our small circle of influence. How are we, the regular persion, to understand Rabbi Chanina's statement, that it is one's piety and one's deeds that create the legacy of wisdom and not the wisdom itself?

We need to understand Rabbi Chaninah's admonition not as cautionary to those whose genius will overshadow whatever unappealing personal traits they may have had, but as a statement to the rest of of us. Few of us possess the kind of genius that transcends the example of our own lives. Rather, it is the way in which we live our lives that validates what we say. It is because we have engaged with others in ways that bring honor to G-d's name that what we say warrants attention. Otherwise, to those who would hear us, what we have said is empty.

We can look at the truly great teachers with reverence and awe, but for the rest of us, our legacy is assured not in what we teach, but in what we do. When we live our lives with dedication to performing good deeds in the spirit of honoring G-d's name, we create community and assure that what we have done with our lives will last. For the rest of us, it is how we live and not what we say, that will endure.

(As presented to CAI 3/24/2006)