This is worth taking a look. Many of us have tried to read the Torah from cover to cover. I have started this project any number of times, but never stuck to it from beginning to end. Of course, as a regular shul-goer, I "hear" the Torah read every week, covering the entire Torah in the course of a Jewish year. But I have never successfully sat down to read it cover to cover.
Equally interesting is the attempt to read it without the help of commentary. I am skeptical that this is possible. The Torah is simply too ambiguous, too sketchy, and definitely too contextual to understand it without the lens of a tradition.
Nevertheless, I will keep reading. It is worth a look. You'll find it at: Blogging the Bible: Abraham vs. God. By David Plotz
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Pirkei Avot 3.17
Rabbi Akiva says: Mockery and levity accustom a man to immorality. The Masora (tradition, Oral Law) is a fence for the Torah; tithes are a fence for wealth; vows are a fence for abstinence; a fence for wisdom is silence
Setting aside the reisha (head, first part), I want to look at the idea of fences and what they mean to Rabbi Akiva and to us. A fence can be something that demarcates a boundary. It can be protection against unwanted intrusions or an obstacle keeping those on the inside from getting out. A fence, in and of itself, has no moral standing. It is how we use that fence that gives it value and worth.
In the traditional view of fences, the intent of Rabbi Akiva's statement is to protect that which is inside the fence by creating a boundary around that which is precious and worth protecting. The Oral Law, which carries the same weight as Torah, is a protection against misinterpreting Torah law. The Oral Law teaches us what the Torah means when it uses ambiguous language such "a tooth for a tooth." The Oral Law teaches us that this is to be understood as monetary compensation, not a literal rendering of the text. In this way, the Oral Law protects us from misapplying Torah dictates.
Likewise, tithes provide a clear protection against the excesses of wealth. The Rabbis never considered wealth to be a bad thing, rather they were concerned, reasonably so, that wealth not be considered an end, but rather a means to do G-d's will. The requirement to give tithes from one's wealth is protection against the idea that the wealth that we achieve is truly ours.
However, we can look at these fences differently. Rather than to protect what is inside the fence (Torah, wealth, etc.) from us, the fence may be there to protect us from what is inside the fence. In our zealousness to have what is good and to do what is good, we require a fence to protect us. From this perspective, the fence around the Torah is to protect us from the zealousness of our desire to do G-d's will. The tradition creates a protective boundary, not to prevent us from "doing it wrong," but to prevent us from getting burned in the act of doing what the Torah commands. Therefore, we learn from the Torah that all belongs to G-d, but we learn from the Oral Law what that means to us on a day to day basis. We learn from the Oral Law how to restrain our thanksgiving and our grief, to balance our commitment to ourselves with our commitment to G-d, Israel and the world.
Tithes, then, may not be a protection against the notion that wealth is the end, but against the zealousness that might cause us to give all of our wealth away in an effort to do what is good. We might feel that if giving some to tzedakah is good, then giving more is better. But the Rabbis warn us that we may give only so much and not more so that we do not impoverish ourselves and become a burden on the community.
Vows are a fence against the zealous desire for abstinence. Abstinence has always been understood as a way to atone and to become closer to G-d. But asceticism has never been part of mainstream Judaism. Our Rabbis prized both worldly physical pleasures along with the more spiritual pleasure. Both were considered valuable. Indeed, we learn that without the yetzer hara (the impulse for evil) there would be no marriage and no trade. Vows allow us to limit and contain our spiritual impulse towards abstinence, thereby protecting us from ourselves.
Finally, the Rabbis cherished wisdom, but saw silence as even greater. Knowing when to speak is at least as important as speaking wisely. Silence preserves our wisdom in two ways. It raises the value of our counsel by making what we say rare and important, rather than plentiful and ordinary. Even more important, silence allows space for us to learn from others. As Ben Zoma says (Pirkei Avot 4:1), the wise person is one who learns from everyone. We can not learn if we are always talking. Silence is a fence that protects us from missing the opportunity to learn from others.
(As presented to CAI 5/7/2006)
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Pirkei Avot 3:16
Still catching up. I had some real difficulties presenting this particular mishna, so this is not exactly what I presented, but some thoughts I have had in the intervening days.
I have purposefully not translated "rosh" or "tishchoret" because understanding these words is the crux to understanding this mishna. Turning first to the seifa or the concluding thought, it is easy to understand the admonition to receive each person cheerfully. Certainly, this is a key to civil society, to receive those we know and those whom we do not know with good cheer. Not always an easy task, but certainly one that is worth striving for.
How then to understand the first two parts of the Mishna. The word rosh literally means "head." It can be the head that siits on ones shoulders, though that is unlikely in this context. More likely, it is the head of some group or community. This is reasonable and the admonition to be yielding or easy to the head of one's group or community is a suggestion that, in most cases, is also worth following.
The whole mishna, it seems to me, hangs on how we translate and understand the word tishchoret. Our sages had difficulty with this word because it is not used with any frequency and has a very ambiguous meaning. Rashi suggests that this word means a young(er) person. He understands the root to be shin, chet, resh, which means "black." One who is young is one whose hair has not turned grey - it is still black. Therefore, the traditional interpretation is that one should be pleasant to the young. Look back at the beginning, we might then understand rosh to be an elder and this leads to the traditional understanding that one should yield to an elder, be pleasant to the young and receive all people cheerfully.
However, this translation of tishchoret, which reasonable, is apparently not correct based on the usage of the word in other contexts. Rather, the tischoret appears to have been what we would call a "press gang." This was a group of Roman soldiers who would waylay Jews and send them on errands for the soldiers. While the Jews were generally not pressed into military service, they may have been made to suffer at the hands of these gangs of Roman soldiers.
In this understanding, we may have a more historical view of Rabbi Yishmael's recommendation. Rabbi Yishmael was,as a boy, a slave who was enprisoned by the Romans and redeemed by Rabbi Yehoshua ben Chanina. Rabbi Yishmael may be giving the advice that in the face of the occupier one should act in a positive and cheeful manner, so as not to give offense to the occupiers.
This is a difficult lesson and one that we very much doubt we would apply today. With the history of the Holocaust still fresh in our minds, even three generations later, we are wary of those who would tell us to be pleasant and accommodating to those who would oppress us. We have learned from the heroes of the Warsaw ghetto and others that Jews must be willing to defend themselves rather than yield to those who would destroy us.
Understanding, as we do, the danger in kowtowing to those who would inflict evil, we are even more obligated not to be bystanders in watching those who would do so to others. Whether we are talking about the genocide in the Sudan and other parts of Africa or the growing anti-Semitism in Europe and elsewhere, Jews can not afford to receive everyone cheerfully.
Rabbi Yishmael says: Be kal (easy, yielding) to a rosh, noach (restful, pleasant) to a tishchoret, and receive every person cheerfully.
I have purposefully not translated "rosh" or "tishchoret" because understanding these words is the crux to understanding this mishna. Turning first to the seifa or the concluding thought, it is easy to understand the admonition to receive each person cheerfully. Certainly, this is a key to civil society, to receive those we know and those whom we do not know with good cheer. Not always an easy task, but certainly one that is worth striving for.
How then to understand the first two parts of the Mishna. The word rosh literally means "head." It can be the head that siits on ones shoulders, though that is unlikely in this context. More likely, it is the head of some group or community. This is reasonable and the admonition to be yielding or easy to the head of one's group or community is a suggestion that, in most cases, is also worth following.
The whole mishna, it seems to me, hangs on how we translate and understand the word tishchoret. Our sages had difficulty with this word because it is not used with any frequency and has a very ambiguous meaning. Rashi suggests that this word means a young(er) person. He understands the root to be shin, chet, resh, which means "black." One who is young is one whose hair has not turned grey - it is still black. Therefore, the traditional interpretation is that one should be pleasant to the young. Look back at the beginning, we might then understand rosh to be an elder and this leads to the traditional understanding that one should yield to an elder, be pleasant to the young and receive all people cheerfully.
However, this translation of tishchoret, which reasonable, is apparently not correct based on the usage of the word in other contexts. Rather, the tischoret appears to have been what we would call a "press gang." This was a group of Roman soldiers who would waylay Jews and send them on errands for the soldiers. While the Jews were generally not pressed into military service, they may have been made to suffer at the hands of these gangs of Roman soldiers.
In this understanding, we may have a more historical view of Rabbi Yishmael's recommendation. Rabbi Yishmael was,as a boy, a slave who was enprisoned by the Romans and redeemed by Rabbi Yehoshua ben Chanina. Rabbi Yishmael may be giving the advice that in the face of the occupier one should act in a positive and cheeful manner, so as not to give offense to the occupiers.
This is a difficult lesson and one that we very much doubt we would apply today. With the history of the Holocaust still fresh in our minds, even three generations later, we are wary of those who would tell us to be pleasant and accommodating to those who would oppress us. We have learned from the heroes of the Warsaw ghetto and others that Jews must be willing to defend themselves rather than yield to those who would destroy us.
Understanding, as we do, the danger in kowtowing to those who would inflict evil, we are even more obligated not to be bystanders in watching those who would do so to others. Whether we are talking about the genocide in the Sudan and other parts of Africa or the growing anti-Semitism in Europe and elsewhere, Jews can not afford to receive everyone cheerfully.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Pirkei Avot 3.15
I've been a little lazy about getting these up. I will be posting the next several over the next few days.
The question that immediately confronts us is how can someone who has Torah and good deeds not have a place in the World to Come (Olam HaBa)? Surely, these are the key elements to right living: to know G-d through the Torah and to put that knowledge to use through good deeds (ma'asim tovim). Shall one who has lived rightly not receive his reward?
In its historical context, it is clear that R' Elazar's list is an injunction against the beliefs of sects of Jews that did not accept certain key elements of Jewish law. It is not hard to see that R' Elazar is likely attacking the early Christian decision not to require circumcision of Gentiles. Prior to the wholesale departure of the Christian church from the Jews, the turmoil created by the decision of Paul, Peter and the other early Christians to relax this rule is similar to our own turmoil over patrilineal descent.
However, we need to not understand this mishna solely through its historical lens, for it speaks to us today. R' Elazar's list of infractions all involve public demonstrations of community participation. We can understand this list as an example of MiPhrat L'Clal, the hermeneutic principle that a list of specific laws followed by a general summary is to be understood as exmplary of the general law and not complete. In this understanding, we understand that these and any infraction of Jewish communal law is sufficient to render Torah and good deeds insufficient for a place in the World to Come.
Jewish life and relationships stand on three legs. Our relationship with G-d, our relationship with the children of Israel (Jews) and our relationship as Jews with the greater non-Jewish world. To the extent that we are bound to each of these, to that extent are we assured of a place in Olam HaBa. Torah is what binds us to G-d; it is how we hear G-d's voice and what gives expression to us as a religious people. Good deeds are what binds us to the greater world; they are what makes us a "light unto the nations." Our communal practices - holidays, circumcision, tolerance to name but a few - are what binds us as Jews to each other. Without this third, we surely sacrifice part of the world. We diminish what we, as Jews, can be and that in turns diminishes the World that we are commanded to build.
(Presented to CAI on April 21, 2006)
Rabbi Elazar the Moda'ite used to say: One who desecrates sacred things, who disgraces the festivals, who humiliates his fellow in public, who nullifies the covenant of our forefather Abraham, or who perverts the meaning of the Tora contrary to Halacha - though he may have Torah and good deeds, he has no share in the World to Come.
The question that immediately confronts us is how can someone who has Torah and good deeds not have a place in the World to Come (Olam HaBa)? Surely, these are the key elements to right living: to know G-d through the Torah and to put that knowledge to use through good deeds (ma'asim tovim). Shall one who has lived rightly not receive his reward?
In its historical context, it is clear that R' Elazar's list is an injunction against the beliefs of sects of Jews that did not accept certain key elements of Jewish law. It is not hard to see that R' Elazar is likely attacking the early Christian decision not to require circumcision of Gentiles. Prior to the wholesale departure of the Christian church from the Jews, the turmoil created by the decision of Paul, Peter and the other early Christians to relax this rule is similar to our own turmoil over patrilineal descent.
However, we need to not understand this mishna solely through its historical lens, for it speaks to us today. R' Elazar's list of infractions all involve public demonstrations of community participation. We can understand this list as an example of MiPhrat L'Clal, the hermeneutic principle that a list of specific laws followed by a general summary is to be understood as exmplary of the general law and not complete. In this understanding, we understand that these and any infraction of Jewish communal law is sufficient to render Torah and good deeds insufficient for a place in the World to Come.
Jewish life and relationships stand on three legs. Our relationship with G-d, our relationship with the children of Israel (Jews) and our relationship as Jews with the greater non-Jewish world. To the extent that we are bound to each of these, to that extent are we assured of a place in Olam HaBa. Torah is what binds us to G-d; it is how we hear G-d's voice and what gives expression to us as a religious people. Good deeds are what binds us to the greater world; they are what makes us a "light unto the nations." Our communal practices - holidays, circumcision, tolerance to name but a few - are what binds us as Jews to each other. Without this third, we surely sacrifice part of the world. We diminish what we, as Jews, can be and that in turns diminishes the World that we are commanded to build.
(Presented to CAI on April 21, 2006)
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
shefa : Message: Davening -- My Personal Journey (from Dan Kimmel)
Normally, I read the Shefa group to make sure that my blood pressure doesn't drop too far. It is good to get riled up once in a while. To my surprise, there is an excellent post (excellent because I agree with it) about the suggestions that music and other innovations are needed to liven up the service.
shefa : Message: Davening -- My Personal Journey (from Dan Kimmel)
The author, Dan Kimmel, makes a very nice statement about his own growing observance and the connection that he has been able to make to the traditional service. Like Dan, as I became more and more familiar with the traditional service, the less I wanted it to change. The liturgy has become a well-trod path with landmarks that I look forward to seeing. There is much more that I could say, but I think that Dan's post does a good job of covering the ground.
shefa : Message: Davening -- My Personal Journey (from Dan Kimmel)
The author, Dan Kimmel, makes a very nice statement about his own growing observance and the connection that he has been able to make to the traditional service. Like Dan, as I became more and more familiar with the traditional service, the less I wanted it to change. The liturgy has become a well-trod path with landmarks that I look forward to seeing. There is much more that I could say, but I think that Dan's post does a good job of covering the ground.
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