Vayakhel 5768: Art, Halacha and Shabbat

This week we have Moses first giving the instructions for creating the Mishkan he learned on Sinai, employing the people to help in the construction with Betzalel as lead craftsman and architect. The people enthusiastically help out in its construction, so much so Betzalel has to ask for the donations to stop. At the beginning of week’s portion Moses speaks of the mitzvah of Shabbat, and includes in it a specific prohibition.

1. And Moses gathered all the congregation of the people of Israel together, and said to them, These are the words which the Lord has commanded, that you should do them. 2. Six days shall work be done, but on the seventh day there shall be to you a holy day, a Sabbath of rest to the Lord; whoever does work in it shall be put to death. 3. You shall kindle no fire throughout your habitations upon the Sabbath day. (Ex 35:1-3)

In Torah there are only two real prohibitions, and by consequence of someone’s actions a third. In Exodus 16:22-30 we are told essentially God doesn’t cook on Shabbat and no one is to gather Manna on the seventh day. In this week’s portion we are told not to light fires. Numbers 15:32-36 had a man put to death for collecting sticks on Shabbat. Beyond this we have no Torah injunction of what we are supposed to do and not do on Shabbat.

We have in the later prophets and writings prohibitions on stamping grapes and commerce both with other Jews and with non-Jews. But the actual rules are still sparse. To understand what can happen in this circumstance, let me give a parable. Once on a lonely mountain, a princess and a prince met and fell in love. Yet after that moment the princess was taken away to a castle with walls impossible to get into. Before she was taken away she told the prince to send her messages through a very small hole in the wall. The prince gets to the castle and knows to roll up a small bit of paper and stick it in the hole to the courtyard on the other side. But he wonders what he should put on the paper, if anything at all. He remembers his moment with her and writes of her hair and her eyes, and other bits about that moment in time.

In the same way do we take a mitzvah, like Shabbat and infuse it with a greater structure, in order to turn the mitzvah, the love note to God, into more than a slip of paper, to really say “I love you.” Our writing on that note is known as the halacha, the rules that exist around the mitzvot in order to perform them. They are essentially of human origin, and in a few cases of the original oral law, believed to be transmitted to Moses orally by God. Moses then began a line of oral transmission up to the time of the rabbis. Yet no oral chain is ever exact, and there is the human hand in what we do have. The rabbis, using this and Torah, came up with a set of ways, halacha, adapted from both to fit their circumstances. Halakah undoubtedly has a human hand. They are the words on that love note, words we get from our experience as recorded in Torah.

For Shabbat for example, the rabbis took this the beginning of this week’s passage, which has nothing to do with anything else in the passage, and figured the reason it was there was to imply that it was all of the work necessary to build the Mishkan, which is referred to as malakah. Since God ended from all the malakah that he made [Gen 2:1] it must be human malakah that was prohibited on Shabbat, as defined by the Mishkan building project. On that basis the rabbis came up with thirty-nine primary prohibitions of work on Shabbat. But since they came up with primary prohibitions, it figured that there were secondary prohibitions, subcategories of those thirty nine which provide us with even more prohibitions.

I’ve been thinking lately about one of those possible subcategories of prohibitions, which in a strict sense I may be violating. Indeed I violate many. There’s no question I violate a direct mitzvot by driving an internal combustion engine to synagogue on Saturday mornings. So it’s surprising that there is a small thing that I think a lot about: Painting on Shabbat. It is part of my ritual practice of Erev Shabbat to sit in a restaurant, pull out my watercolor box, paints, and a photo reference and paint. I’m so serious about this I break other halacha just to do this. When last year I was given a choice between going to services and painting, I picked painting. I’m not sure sometimes if it’s a ritual practice or a guilty pleasure.

There are all kinds of issues with painting. Some are not just Shabbat prohibitions either. With my love of figurative painting, there is one that I find particularly interesting:

Our Rabbis taught: The writing under a painting or an image may not be read on the Sabbath. And as for the image itself, one must not look at it even on weekdays, because it is said, Turn ye not unto idols. How is that taught? — Said R. Hanin: [Its interpretation is,] Turn not unto that conceived in your own minds. [Shabbat 149a]

Not only looking at a painting is prohibited, but reading its caption on Shabbat! Yet here the issue is clearly idolatry. Many images with captions are not of a secular nature, and the caption may be prayer to other gods. So the first issue is that painting images of any kind as mentioned in many places are considered idols. More to the point on Shabbat we have this prohibition:

It was taught: He who bores, however little, he who scrapes, however little, he who tans, however little, he who draws a figure on a vessel, however little, [is violating Shabbat]. [Shabbat 103b]

For a painting prohibition, it is based on one of the thirty nine primary prohibitions found in the Mishnah:

He who writes two letters, whether with his right or with his left hand, of the same designation or of two designations or in two pigments, in any language, is culpable. [Shabbat 102b]

The Mishnah in the name of R. Yose, continues by clarifying this. While one mark does not convey meaning, two marks convey meaning. During the building of the Mishkan, that they marked the boards with the two letter abbreviations of the tribes as they worked to match up boards correctly. There is another text, a bit earlier concerning building which might also be significant in terms of its general principle:

If one builds how much must he build to be culpable? He who builds however little, and he who chisels, and he who strikes with a hammer or with an adze, and he who bores [a hole], however little, is culpable. This is the general principle: whoever does work on the Sabbath and his work endures, is culpable. [Shabbat 102b]

The general rule might apply to paintings. Paintings are permanent, and thus endure. It looks like there's not much chance for me to follow a halacha of painting.

I could make a philosophical argument of course, one many in the liberal Jewish community have made at one time or another. Basically it’s based on that definition of Malakah again, this time defining it as occupation. Shabbat is to rest from what you do for a living. If one gets enjoyment from something that does not have to do with your living, then go ahead and do it and enjoy yourself. An extension of this argument is that Shabbat is the witnessing of creation. God spent the six days creating the world, and on that seventh, sanctified day, we are to stop and appreciate it. An artist takes that creation and appreciates it by putting it on paper or canvas.

However, there’s something about creating a halakic argument that exempts painting that makes the act more sacred. Part of that is to follow a part of the tradition that the argument above does not: rabbinic thinking. The rabbis for many reasons found exemptions and ways around problems which restricted too much. For example, our prohibition on kindling a fire. The Karaites, who rejected the rabbinic authority, came up with their own halacha that no fire were to be lit on Shabbat. You spent from sunset to sunset on Shabbat without light and heat. The rabbis were far more lenient. If you lit the fire before sundown, gave it enough fuel to last a while and then didn’t touch it again, it could continue to burn throughout Shabbat. They then took that precedent and applied to several other circumstances where things began before Shabbat but were completed during Shabbat.

One takes from these and other sources and tries to come up with an argument, based on precedent of the classical sources, to create an exemption. Like the case of the fire, that one may not add more fuel, there may be stipulations and restrictions even to the exemptions.

Given the texts mentioning the prohibitions, there are two texts which might help in providing an exemption. The first is the rebuttal to the Shabbat 103 passage above:

R. Simeon said: [He is not culpable] unless he bores right through or scrapes the whole of it [the skin] or tans the whole of it or draws the whole of it! [Shabbat 103b]

The other, mentioned in two places, describes God as an artist, based on the prayer of Hanna:

There is none holy as the Lord, for there is none beside thee (I Sam 2:2). R. Judah b. Menashia said: Read not bilteka, ‘beside thee’], but read lebalotheka [‘to survive thee’]. For the nature of the Holy One, blessed be He, is not like that of flesh and blood. It is the nature of flesh and blood to be survived by its works, but God survives His works. Neither is there any rock [zur] like our God(ibid.). There is no artist [zayyar] like our God. A man draws a figure on a wall, but is unable to endow it with breath and spirit, inward parts and intestines. But the Holy One, blessed be He, fashions a form within a form and endows it with breath and spirit, inward parts and intestines. [Megilah 14a, Ber 10a]

Taking these texts, can we come up with a halakic exemption for painting, or art in general? This week, I’m not going to tell you here. Vayakhel is half of a double portion. On non-leap years, it is paired with Pekudei. This year, is a leap year and they are read separately, so in that spirit, I’m going to do the same thing and split this commentary into two parts, using a verse in Pekudei (Exodus 39:32) to help out. But I’ll give you a few hints. The major hint is the questions I ask myself when I get into a situation like this. Think about these this week, the sequence I thought them up, and how I could use the passages above to come up with that answer and next week, I’ll give you my answer:

1. Should I do art on Shabbat?

2. Is Art Work (vftkn)?

3. When is Art Work (vftkn)?

4. Is building the Temple really work?

5. Are there loopholes in that Mishnah?

6. What are the distinctions between my art and building the Temple?

7. Under what circumstances could art be done on Shabbat?

8. What restrictions would I have to have the exemption?

Ki Tissa 5768: When an Angel Points To the Demons

After two weeks with not much action, there's a lot of story this time. Moses receives the last of the commandments on Sinai, then proceeds down the mountain, where he meets up with Joshua, who thinks there's fighting in the camp. It turns out the people are worshipping a golden calf. Both Moses and God get upset, then Moses tries to save the people by telling God he'd look pretty bad in the eyes of the Egyptians if he kills everyone. The people repent. Moses goes back up to get another set of ten tablets since he broke the first set. Moses asks to sees God's face, but only gets to see his back, sort of. God inscribes another set of tablets, and reiterates several commandments. After this second time, Moses keeps his face covered, unless he was in the Mishkan.

This week we have the bookends to the readings of a few weeks ago. Those portions were the preparation for Sinai and the beginning of revelation there. Then Moses went up the mountain. This week portion is Moses coming down the mountain and the aftermath. On opposite ends of Moses’ time on Sinai there is an interesting repeated passage. In this week’s portion we read:

2. And I will send an angel before you; and I will drive out the Canaanite, the Amorite, and the Hittite, and the Perizzite, the Hivite, and the Jebusite; 3. To a land flowing with milk and honey; for I will not go up in the midst of you; for you are a stiff-necked people; lest I consume you in the way.[Exodus 33:1-3]

Before Moses ascends Sinai we have the following:

20. Behold, I send an Angel before you, to keep you in the way, and to bring you into the place which I have prepared. 21. Take heed of him, and obey his voice, provoke him not; for he will not pardon your transgressions; for my name is in him. 22. But if you shall indeed obey his voice, and do all that I speak; then I will be an enemy to your enemies, and an adversary to your adversaries. 23. For my Angel shall go before you, and bring you in to the Amorites, and the Hittites, and the Perizzites, and the Canaanites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites; and I will cut them off. [Exodus 23:20-23]

A few weeks ago I gave a D’var Torah at a friend’s house after Shabbat and asked a question about these two portions. Exodus 33 gives a function to this angel, to lead the people to the land. But what happens when the angel finishes this function? Does the angel leave? In Exodus 33 from this week’s portion we read next of what happens when they hear about this angel guiding them:

4. And when the people heard these bad tidings, they mourned; and no man put on him his ornaments.

Apparently, this was bad news. There is a Midrash which explains their mourning:

Raba again said to Rabbah b. Mari: Whence can be derived the popular Saying: ‘When we were young we were treated as men, whereas now that we have grown old we are looked upon as babies’? — He replied: It is first written: And the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of a cloud, to lead them the way; and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light but subsequently it is written: Behold I send an angel before thee to keep thee by the way. [Baba Kama 93a]

The people’s lament was that God, who was in the pillar of fire from Egypt to Sinai, would no longer be in the lead. They get a flunky instead. Yet in Exodus 23, shortly after the giving of the Ten Commandments and prior to Moses’ ascent up the mountain we are told this was exactly what was going to happen. To further confuse things, the cloud and fire was still there, as we read in the last three verses of Exodus:

36. And when the cloud was taken up from over the tabernacle, the children of Israel went onward in all their journeys; 37. But if the cloud was not taken up, then they journeyed not till the day that it was taken up. 38. For the cloud of the Lord was upon the tabernacle by day, and fire was on it by night, in the sight of all the house of Israel, throughout all their journeys. [Exodus 40:36-38]

Not only are we confused about whether the angel stayed around after the entering of the land but whether it was the angel or God doing the leading. I believe there is a way out of this tangle. First I think it is important to understand the Hebrew word for angel, malach. It can mean both angel and it can mean messenger. Adding a little Marshall McLuhan to that translation, the media and the message are often indistinguishable if not integral to each other. As we read in Ki Tissa, man cannot be face to face with God and live. There is always some message system conveying meaning from God to Israel, and to the rest of humanity. That message system, the angels, may take human form, but often, as exemplified by the book of Esther, they are a lot more subtle. There is no direct divine intervention in the story. I’ve referred to this idea before as “Everyday Torah” that there is spiritual learning and guidance from the most mundane things if we only look.

Secondly the difference between the sender of a message and the message itself is often a blurred distinction. God and the angels are often the same thing. Compare this to e-mail: If I were to send you an e-mail, I’m sending electronic data quite a distance. Your reaction to that e-mail however would be the same as if I was in the room. Someone wouldn’t say “the e-mail I got from Shlomo said” when quoting the e-mail. Instead that person might say “Shlomo said” as though I was in the room when I said it. If I said something offensive in the e-mail, you’d react as if I said something offensive to your face.

This is also true of a wondrous sight like the cloud over the Mishkan. The cloud is the message, the messenger and the sender of the message. All of the distinctions are blurred. The people’s mourning over they were only getting a secondary agent was wrong because they made a distinction between the message and the sender of the message. In idolatrous thinking we make such distinctions, in Jewish thinking we do not.

Yet that leaves the original question, did the angel stop at the border of Israel, never to lead the way again? One source begins to suggest an interesting pattern:

1. And an angel of the Lord came up from Gilgal to Bochim, and said, I made you go out of Egypt, and have brought you to the land which I swore to your fathers; and I said, I will never break my covenant with you. 2. And you shall make no pact with the inhabitants of this land; you shall pull down their altars; but you have not obeyed my voice; Why have you done this? [Judges 2:1-2]

This is not the only angel after the people settle in the land. There are several showing up in the book of Judges. Yet unlike the Cloud of the Lord over the Mishkan we see a new pattern. Instead of an angel leading a nation, it is an angel directed at an individual, a pattern which will continue throughout Tanach, to Ezekiel and Daniel. Often their directions are more than a little strange and a bit indirect, as in the ones to Samson’s parents (Judges 13) or to Gideon (Judges 6).

I’ve thought about this all for the last month or so due what I’ve been going through. I had expected my life to head in one direction after finishing grad school only to see it take a sharp right turn, one I hadn’t completely expected and one which looks like I was going in the wrong direction. Instead of Jewish scholar, I was heading into Microbiology product development. Since all this started I’ve been meditating and thinking about the phrase “I will send an angel before you.” If there was an angel still here, I’ve had a hard time seeing the angel lately. I’ve wondered why am I shooting so far off the obvious path. It seemed so strange, as though the last five years of my life in Jewish studies were wasted. Nonetheless I’ve tried to adjust to new paths. I’ve been learning a lot of new things, none of which seem to have anything to do with Jewish studies. Yet while trying to find some Talmud last weekend about the manufacturing ethics of R. Huna, I ran across the following passage,

It has been taught: Abba Benjamin says, If the eye had the power to see them, no creature could endure the demons. Abaye says: They are more numerous than we are and they surround us like the ridge round a field. R. Huna says: Every one among us has a thousand on his left hand and ten thousand on his right hand. [Brachot 6a]

I remembered an incident from the early days of Microbiology. Often on the first few glances of protozoans under the microscope early scientists would cringe in terror at the monsters under the microscope. I’ve heard the Alfred Hitchcock’s movie the Birds was inspired by the thought of microbial life being visible to the naked eye. That is not the only horror movie of course. The Blob and even an episode of Star Trek were based on a very visible Entamoeba Histolytica, though as a microbe it is far more difficult to stop its destructive power. As Abaye mentions demons are everywhere. They live in multitudes covering every surface, and as R. Huna mentions, who happens to be a food manufacturer [Brachot 5b] they are all over your hands.

The passage continued on how to see demons using magic potions. While it’s some seriously odd magic potions involving black cats and things the ASPCA would not be happy with, I realized it’s no stranger than the staining procedures I was learning in my Microbiology books. Since 2004, when I took a course in the history of Jewish magic, I been stating one thing over and over again, twice as a speaker to national conferences of public health officials. The rabbis of the Talmud, when referring to demons, in Aramaic Mazikin, may have been referring to microbial pathogens. My angel had struck, and shown me that, yes, I was on the path and the angel was still there before me. Ironically, the angel before me was pointing at the demons.

As much as Abaye and R. Huna talk about the multitude of demons, there are multitudes of angels as well. The Midrash Exodus Rabbah LXVIII, 18 uses the same proof text R. Huna used, a thousand on his left hand and ten thousand on his right hand [Psalm 91:7] to talk of multitudes of angels in commenting about angels in front of us. They are always around giving us messages, and always being the message from God. The messages are everywhere, if we only look. It might be a passage of Tanach or Talmud that catches our eye. Yet it can also be a song on the radio or an advertisement on a bus. It could be an e-mail with a friend you haven’t heard from in a while, or an odd conversation with a stranger. Angels take many forms, surrounding us, so that they are always in front of us.

The lesson of the last few weeks for me has been about possibility. We can see our angels if we are open to possibility. If we put limits on our thinking, as did those in this week’s portion believing one of God’s flunkies was guiding the way, we miss the message and get less. If we only think angels are some guys with wings we may go our entire lives without seeing an angel. But if we open up to more possibilities, we see God’s messengers in many everyday things, events and circumstances around us, and can read and listen to the voice of God in all of creation.

When you run across your angels, say “hi” for me.

Tetzave 5768: The Ephod Suicides

0This week we have more commandments given to Moses on Sinai. While other things, such as the oil for the menorah and the procedures for sacrifices are mentioned, the main part of the text describes the garb of the Kohen Gadol, the high priest. We read for example:

1. And take to you Aaron your brother, and his sons with him, from among the people of Israel, that he may minister to me in the priest’s office, Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar, Aaron’s sons. 2. And you shall make holy garments for Aaron your brother for glory and for beauty.[Exodus 28:1-2]

We also read of the censer this week:

9. You shall offer no strange incense on it, nor burnt sacrifice, nor meal offering; nor shall you pour drink offering on it. [30:9]

Yet, in a few weeks we read the rather puzzling and disturbing verses in Leviticus 10:

1. And Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron, took each of them his censer, and put fire in it, and put incense on it, and offered strange fire before the Lord, which he commanded them not. 2. And there went out fire from the Lord, and devoured them, and they died before the Lord. [Leviticus 10:1-2]

Many commentators have thought about this incident, the Midrash alone is full of differing explanations of what happened at that first tragedy in the Mishkan. I’ve written on several occasions about the incident and given more than one interpretation myself. Yet this week as I read the portion, I couldn’t shake a feeling. We read at the end of Exodus 28:

42. And you shall make them linen breeches to cover their nakedness; from the loins to the thighs they shall reach; 43. And they shall be upon Aaron, and upon his sons, when they come in to the Tent of Meeting, or when they come near to the altar to minister in the holy place; that they bear not iniquity, and die; it shall be a statute forever to him and his seed after him. [Exodus 28:42-43]

As this verse comes right after the verse about wearing underwear, it may be related to that. However it also closes the chapter about the priestly garments, so it may be about all of the priestly garments. Here and in 28:35 we read that the garments have a protective function.

35. And it shall be upon Aaron to minister; and his sound shall be heard when he goes in to the holy place before the Lord, and when he comes out, that he should not die.[Exodus 28:35]

Nadab and Abihu had to have known all this, which makes their actions even stranger. I’ve argued in the past that either they were intoxicated, as the text in Leviticus 10 seems to imply, or that this was a selfless act of protection, they did this as self-sacrificing heroes. What I’ve never discussed before is a question that never occurred to me before: What if they didn’t want to be priests?

At the core of that question, and at the core of this week’s portion is the role of clothing in the world. In once sense, one that the text does mention twice, it is protective. One can imagine that working directly with the Divine Presence in the temple was a dangerous affair. Today, On days where the wind whips temperatures cold enough to cause frostbite or hypothermia, hats gloves, and long johns have such a purpose from danger.

On another, as Exodus 28:43 above suggests there is the issue of modesty. The priest wore linen breeches to prevent their genitals showing during work hours. Such an issue was also brought up earlier in Exodus when we are told not to make steps but ramps up to the altar. There is more possibilities for the function of clothing suggested by the phrase “beauty and glory,” occurring in Exodus 28:2, and 28:40. Clothes can make us more attractive or cause us to pay attention to someone.

The word glory also shows up as my glory, speaking of the Glory of the Lord, a phrase which shows up several times in Exodus. The word for glory, kavod, has many meanings. Kavod may also mean honor. I’ve thought about this and looking at several versus where the word shows up, I’ve come up with another possible translation for kavod: Identity. Closely related to clothing’s use for beauty, is its use in identifying people. The high priest was identified as the high priest by wearing these garments. The other priests were identified by wearing parts of this whole ensemble. We know a police officer by his blue uniform, a soldier by her fatigues. I know who works in Starbucks by their green aprons and janitorial staff by a uniform with too many pockets, chunky keychain and a mop.

When we see a police officer in their dress blues, we identify with them differently than if they were in riot gear. We might not judge a book by its cover, but we do by the shirt on someone’s back. To wear a crown or an ephod tells someone that you are a king or a priest. What’s more the act of putting on a uniform is the act of accepting that identity. Yet when I first learned the word kavod, it found it very meaningful that along with honor, it also meant heavy. To paraphrase Spiderman, with great honor comes a heavy responsibility. Part of that weight is that we are no longer identified as a human being but a job. As heavy as all that gold, cloth, and stones in the ephod and the rest of the priests’ garb, the weight of no longer being a human being must be crushing.

Thus we come back to Nadab and Abihu. We know nothing of their personal lives, not even an indication of marital status. Some Midrash takes such silence as a comment that they were single, but that too cannot really be known. We therefore cannot say anything about who these two men except they were the sons of Aaron. Thus I’ll make a supposition. They believed they knew their identities, and were living that life. Though I doubt these scenarios were their true identities, I can use stories for these two to illustrate my point. Let’s suppose Abihu was a serious musician who played harp solos for his singing cousins the sons of Korah. Let’s further suppose Nadab was deeply in love with a widow. When the clothes and responsibilities of the priest and the high priest were given, who they had become, the musician and the lover, were now lost to them. Nadab was forbidden with associating with his fiancé. Abihu had to put down his harp permanently and start bossing around his friends and band mates. Their lives and dreams were banned, denigrated and devalued. Such change must have hurt – a lot. In one sense when they were told about the priesthood and their new responsibilities, about those clothes and that new identity, it was then that they lost their lives.

Again from the biblical story it is hard to determine what happened in the Mishkan when these two offered strange fire. But I believe that kavod in their eyes was translated oppressive weight. They might have intentionally offered strange fire knowing it would end their lives, removing them from the hopeless situation they were in. Yet I think more likely was the second possibility. With the loss of their identity, their heart wasn’t in their job, and they made mistakes which led to their death. Suicide wasn’t a conscious option for them but happened because they did not focus on living and performing their new job well. In either case, they died rather than be a priest.

As much as this explanation seems to make sense to me, it is also very disturbing. The one who changed Nadab and Abihu’s lives in the first place was God. God messed up their lives as they knew it. That is the disturbing contemporary question: Is God forcing us to live a life that is in accordance with God’s wishes, but in doing so giving us an identity that is not genuine? If someone works incredibly hard to fulfill a dream, something that for them is their primary purpose in life, and then it falls apart, what are they to do?

I really have no answer to that question. The best I can do is a partial answer, but of some things I am certain. Nadab and Abihu’s solution was the completely wrong one. Dying either by intentional or unintentional suicide accomplishes nothing. Nadab and Abihu had another problem, which I believe the weight of their uniforms blinded them to. To live in a uniform is to live within a limited belief structure, to the stuff we’re given. Anything outside that structure doesn’t exist, or is seemingly impossible to do. Yet maybe that is where we need to strive for. People are people, not their occupation. People extend beyond their uniform. A man is more than the sum of his clothes. Yet we forget that, and we forget that while circumstances might be bad now, that too will change. As I said last week, our Nefesh is permanent. Our identity is concrete. Yet clothes also hide that identity within the limits of what we expect out of someone wearing those clothes. It’s outright bizarre to see a uniformed police officer dancing down the street to music on his iPod. We expect them to be serious if not gruff. Those are limits placed on cops, though even when the uniform comes off, those limits remain and many do not act differently in a t-shirt and blue jeans.

Sometimes limits are important. Where Nadab and Abihu went wrong is making limits where there are none, and thinking the situation hopeless and impossible to change. In reality, maybe God is challenging us to overcome our limits, and to grow in ways we would not otherwise. We can fail to rise to that challenge, and collapse under the weight. We could also start to get creative, and change. In the process we can even end up changing the expectations of entire world.

In a story that I have repeated often in the last few weeks to those who would listen, I tell people about the DVD I bought in Disney World while I was there in early January. The DVD is of Oswald the Lucky Rabbit. Most have never heard of Oswald, but he was Walt Disney’s first fully animated character in 1927. Disney had put together a team of animators, some who would go on to their own fame, like Friz Freleng and Tex Avery, known for their work on Bugs Bunny and Tom and Jerry among many other cartoons for Warner and MGM. In a contractual loophole, Disney lost all the rights to Oswald and access to all his animators. Yet on the train home from that meeting in New York to his home in Los Angeles, he began to doodle. One of those doodles looked at lot like Oswald but with round ears. He named this mouse Mortimer, but we know him today as Mickey.

There is a quote from Disney found in many places in the park, one I have on a poster on my office wall “I hope we don’t lose sight of one thing, it was all started by a mouse”

I disagree. It all started with getting beyond a rabbit. Let us not, like Nadab and Abihu did, forget that.

Terumah 5768: The Eco-Temple

When we last left Moses, he was ascending Mount Sinai at the request of the people that he would be the exclusive representative of the people, and he would then teach the laws to them. Moses thus begins the Forty-day period of receiving the Torah. God starts with the design plan of the Mishkan, the portable temple that will be the center of Israelite practices until the time of Solomon. This week Moses receives the plans in rather interesting detail of the items found in the Mishkan, such as the ark and the altar, and ending with the Mishkan itself. The text starts:

1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, 2. Speak to the people of Israel, that they bring me an offering; from every man that gives it willingly with his heart you shall take my offering. 3. And this is the offering which you shall take from them; gold, and silver, and bronze, 4. And blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine linen, and goats’ hair, 5. And rams’ skins dyed red, and goats’ skins, and shittim wood, 6. Oil for the light, spices for the anointing oil, and for sweet incense, 7. Onyx stones, and stones to be set on the ephod, and on the breastplate. 8. And let them make me a sanctuary; that I may dwell among them. [Exodus 25:1-8]

Looking at that inventory of supplies, the list seems large. The questions arise immediately: How would people who were slaves mere months before find such stuff? The answer of course comes from an earlier passage:

35. And the people of Israel did according to the word of Moses; and they borrowed from the Egyptians jewels of silver, and jewels of gold, and garments; 36. And the Lord gave the people favor in the sight of the Egyptians, so that they lent them such things as they required. And they carried away the wealth of the Egyptians. [Exodus 12:35]

The borrowed items from the Egyptians became the materials for the Mishkan. They did not acquire new stuff, but re-cycled old. This was so different than Solomon’s temple which stripped the cedars of Lebanon. The Mishkan was commanded by God. The idea for the temple was King David’s, who wanted a permanent location for the ark. God merely gave him permission.

What made me think of this was one rather minor candidate in the primary this week. For the last few weeks leading up to Super Tuesday I’ve been getting mail from candidates clogging my mailbox. One person running for a commissioner for the water reclamation district was particularly interesting. This is the public service which takes sewage and makes it safe to discharge into water supplies. In a media blitz for a minor job, she puts up billboards, ran radio ads and clogged the mail box with large postcards. She claimed to be an environmental candidate, and the Sierra Club photos of her helped play up that image. But going to my mail box day after day I decided I couldn’t vote for her.

Every day, I kept find the same thing in my mailbox from her. A big coated four color postcard claiming she was the candidate for the environment. As a guy who has made his own paper from consumer waste, I know very well four color heavy - stock coated postcards are the absolutely worst type of paper to recycle, and never starts off recycled. In her zeal to get elected she proved to me she didn’t care about the environment - -she didn’t use post consumer waste for the card stock. When I found out one of her big contributors was the big oil company BP, I was not surprised in the slightest.

It made me think about recycling, and of course the issue of using the gold of the Egyptians and turning it into the Gold of the Mishkan. Recycling is transformative. My own paper recycling actually turns old office documents into paper sculptures. In the biblical case, all the idolatrous amulets of the Egyptians were transformed into the gold layering of the Ark. This is not just a miracle of God, but a miracle of man, taking one thing and turning it into another.

Such transformations are part of life of course. Watching a snowstorm out my window, I think abut the frozen water crystals that probably evaporated from the Gulf of Mexico, froze in mid air over Chicago, and fell as snow. Eventually they will melt, run down the Illinois River, then the Mississippi to return to the Gulf.

Outside of nature is human thought. The concept that the Mishkan is a metaphor for human thought is certainly not my own, I’ve heard it used often. But how often in such a metaphor do we realize how much of our own Mishkan of the soul is also recycled. There is the stuff we learned from our parents, both facts and attitudes. There is the stuff we learned from our friend’s and from the world around us, in social interactions, social pressure, advertising, the media and the rest of everyday life. And the there is the stuff we intentionally learned in school. Like the gold, acacia wood, gems, white, blue and purple cloth, we recycle ideas into our own Mishkan.

Moses was told by God to take stuff collected from the Egyptians and turn it into a mobile place for God to interface with Israel. It was David’s dream and Solomon’s task to recycle the Mishkan into the Temple. After the destruction of the first temple, it was Ezra’s and Nehemiah and their generation’s task to recycle what was left of the first temple into a second one. After the destruction of the second Temple, it was Johanan ben Zakkai and his disciples’ task to recycle the idea of the temple into prayer and home practices. Each had a task to transform what came before into something new, yet that retained a core idea of the original wood, cloth and gold in the wilderness of Sinai so long ago. The core, the covenant of God and Israel always remains.

So it is with a scholar who departs from the study of the Torah and engages in other pursuits, yet even after many years have elapsed when he wishes to return [to its study] he is not abashed, because he says: ‘I am returning to the heritage of my ancestors.’ [Exodus Rabbah XXXIII:7]

There are times in our lives where we have to be away from our core, and pursue other things; we recycle what we know to fit that occasion. Deep within us however there is some core that we can return to. It is the Holy of Holies within us. It is the place where the Shechinah dwells in each of us. I would call that my Nefesh, the life force, the soul. Often we need to bury it for social convention or economic need. In those cases, transmute its outside wall and layers into something that may not reflect what it really is. But it is there.

Paradoxically one of the most and at the same time least instructive pieces of advice anyone can give another is these two words: Be yourself. One needs to ask the question: which self? Our core Nefesh or the recycled stuff that others expect us to be? Depending on the situation we may choose one or the other. Yet even when we change to fit the situation, we remember who we are. From Mishkan to Temple to Talmud, that outside can change, but that core will always be the same.

May you find your Nefesh, may you be your Nefesh.

Shlomo's Teacher on You tube

Yes I have a teacher and he's quite the inspiration. Much of what is here on Shlomo's Drash I owe to him.

Here's a video of R. Bernard (Dov Baer) Grossfeld talking with Rabbi Doug about Targumim and particularly the Targumim of Esther. I get this stuff every week.

If you like this and know a bit of Hebrew, check out Spertus College Webpage about us and our website.

Mishpatim 5768: Halakah and Aggadah, Bittersweet Joy.

For the first time in the Torah cycle, there is very little narrative, found only at the end of the parsha. This week is a continuation of the same day God gave the Ten Commandments on Sinai, with God giving directly to Moses a rapid-fire nonstop set of mitzvot, mostly covering civil and criminal law. It includes other things, such as a more elaborate explanation of the Ten Commandments including Shabbat, honoring parents, not murdering, not being a false witness, and not stealing. There also the famous line about witches, and the schedule for the three pilgrimage festivals. Towards the end of this portion, Moses writes down this week portion, and then ascends Sinai for the forty days and nights to receive the rest of the Torah and the tablets.

Key to this portion, unlike any one before it in Torah is the mitzvot which comprise the majority of the portion. Much, but not all of this is civil law. For example there is this bit of liability law:

28. If an ox gores a man or a woman, that they die; then the ox shall be surely stoned, and his flesh shall not be eaten; but the owner of the ox shall be acquitted. 29. But if the ox was wont to gore with its horn in times past, and its owner had been warned, and he has not kept it in, but it has killed a man or a woman; the ox shall be stoned, and its owner also shall be put to death.[23:28-9] … 33. And if a man shall open a pit, or if a man shall dig a pit, and not cover it, and an ox or an ass falls in it; 34. The owner of the pit shall make it good, and give money to its owner; and the dead beast shall be his. [23:33-4]

Then there is this piece in the next chapter:

4. If a man shall cause a field or vineyard to be eaten, and shall put in his beast, and shall feed in another man’s field; of the best of his own field, and of the best of his own vineyard, shall he make restitution. 5. If fire breaks out, and catches in thorns, so that the stacks of grain, or the standing grain, or the field, be consumed with it; he who kindled the fire shall surely make restitution. [22:4-5]

Last week I mentioned the thinking of Halakah, but did not dwell on it too deep. Using the parable of painting, I described this as one of the primary colors on a painter’s palette. In my painting class last week my teacher said something rather wise about my painting style that is also true of Torah. As I am color blind, and as such I can not go by the appearance of a color when it comes to colors, I must use a more analytical approach. As a watercolor painter I generally need to understand all of my colors in order to use any of them. So too with the three ‘colors’ I mentioned last week, Halakah, Aggadah, and Everyday Torah.

On a very basic concept, what defines a Jew as a Jew is acceptance of Halakah on some level. For some it is as deep and completely involved as I described last week. Whether one can sit on a hammock attached to tree on Shabbat is an important, serious matter to some, and for them it should be. Others treat Halakah far more lightly, as though it is some anachronism. Yet Halakah was still there. Even Classical Reform of the late 19^th century which seemingly rejected Halakah for a while still had the Shema in the Union Prayerbook. Classical Reform found verses, both in this week’s mitzvot and the prophets who later quote them, important enough to make social action an important religious doctrine.

To continue the painting analogy, on my palette Alarizin Crimson and Cadmium Red Light are both red, but very different reds. To understand the color red I need to understand something about all the reds. Halakah is similar, there are ones that are simple civil law like ox case above and then there are ones we can never completely understand, like the prohibition of boiling a kid in its mother’s milk. Like Maimonides, we can make assumptions and guesses, but sufficient archaeological evidence does not exist to confirm his idea that mixing of milk and meat had to do with pagan rites. We can however come up with new rules to make sure, whatever its intent, we don’t break the rule.

My point is that Halakah can be really subtle at times. It is not just the doing but the understanding of where it comes from and what one can do with it. A large amount of the civil law tractates in the Talmud is nothing but an exposition on this week’s portion. A lot of things were derived from these few verses. The Mishnah to Baba Kama for example begins:

The principal categories of damage are four: the ox, the pit, the ‘spoliator’ [mab'eh] and the fire.

The rabbis categorized all forms of damages in terms of these four, all based on verses in Mishpatim. A majority of Baba Kama, hundreds of pages of debate, is an exposition of those few lines above. The ox goring, damage caused by falling into an open pit, uncontrolled fires, and the ‘spoilator, ’ which the rabbis get into a large discussion trying to define, becomes the basis of liability law in the Talmud. Understanding that there are subcategories of these, how those subcategories work, what is an accidental case and what is a non-accidental case is all there. A lush forest of laws and rules all derived from a few words as its seed.

For most Jews today, and for many non-Jews this seems a deep, impenetrable forest. For those who enter it is a beautiful tropical rainforest of wonder. There is the halakah of religious commandments and the halakah of civil, ethical rules. For those who enter this lavish beautiful jungle, it’s hard to tell the difference. Is this theology or civil law?

Man is always mu'ad whether [he acts] inadvertently or willfully, whether awake or asleep. If he blinded his neighbor’s eye or broke his articles, full compensation must [therefore] be made. [B.K. 26a]

Humanity is considered Mu’ad, but what is Mu’ad?

What is tam, and what is mu'ad? — [cattle become] mu'ad after [the owner has] been warned for three days [regarding the acts of goring], but [return to the state of] tam after refraining from goring for three days; these are the words of R. Judah. R. Meir, however, says: [cattle become] mu'ad after [the owner has] been warned three times [even on the same day], and [become again] tam when children keep on touching them and no goring results. [B.K. 23b]

Mu’ad is based on Exodus 21:29 above, that an animal with a record of warnings is considered dangerous. For cattle, there is a possibility to return to a state of simple and safe. R. Judah believe a safe ox is one whose track record is not to do anything wrong for three days. R. Meir believes only an ox which can be repeatedly taunted by children without incident is safe. To call the nature of man as though a man is always in the dangerous state, as though we are always a mad bull, is quite a remarkable statement. We are always and in all circumstances responsible for our actions even when asleep, and thus deserve the full penalty. As I asked before, is this a religious or civil statement?

The beauty and joy of reading and understanding Halakah is not just in its observance. It is in asking questions about the Mitzvot, where it comes from, and why others made the decisions they did, creating the practiced Halakah. To understand when a preventative measure, a fence around Torah is necessary in an ambiguous case is just as important as seeing there are exceptions to those stringencies. Even with the idea of full responsibility, the rabbis did make exemptions for simple accidents beyond human control. It all really does make some sense if you understand the thinking.

Sadly, very few do. There is a time commitment to study of course, one few have. Starting next month that will be me as well. I’m going to have to give up group Talmud study in order to make a living. It’s a very hard, sad decision for me, but one that was unfortunately necessary. I understand the time issues. Then there is the other issue, the one of not knowing what to do with a Talmud page. The education to do so in most Jews across the spectrum of observance, from Renewal to Reform to Even Orthodox Baalei T’Shuva is sorely lacking. I still have a dream to change that: to make knowledge of Talmud accessible to all. Again out of necessity that dream is sidelined, though I desperately pray not forever.

Talmud is one of the most beautiful things in my world; I’d like it to be in yours too. Teaching it and Learning from it is a source of life, unfortunately it doesn’t seem to pay the rent or grocery bills unless you have an R. for Rabbi in front of your name. I’ve wondered over the last few weeks at the dearth of opportunities for a guy like me whether my last five years of grad school was a waste of time and money. I sometimes doubt I picked the right life path. But then I remember: Halakah gives us a way to do things and a basis to make good decisions that Torah does not explicitly state. Yet Halakhah does not soothe the heart. It is times like this that aggadah paints its colors on the canvas. We also read this week:

20. Behold, I send an Angel before you, to keep you on the way, and to bring you into the place which I have prepared. 21. Take heed of him, and obey his voice, provoke him not; for he will not pardon your transgressions; for my name is in him. 22. But if you shall indeed obey his voice, and do all that I speak; then I will be an enemy to your enemies, and an adversary to your adversaries. 23. For my Angel shall go before you, and bring you in to the Amorites, and the Hittites, and the Perizzites, and the Canaanites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites; and I will cut them off. 24. You shall not bow down to their gods, nor serve them, nor do after their works; but you shall completely overthrow them, and break down their images in pieces. 25. And you shall serve the Lord your God, and he shall bless your bread, and your water; and I will take sickness away from the midst of you.

I do not read this just in its literal sense. I read it in another, to keep the faith in what I am doing, to keep up with the journey. It is to believe in not stopping nor ending what I have started. The other peoples in the land are not real people, but metaphors for my own stumbling blocks on the way to my living in the Land of Torah. My angel resides here in Shlomo’s Drash, and as long as I have a keyboard and a way to upload my Drash, I will continue to do this one way or the other.

Someday people will support me for Torah knowledge, and I can spread such knowledge with true holy joy and total devotion to Torah. But for now this might be a far longer journey than I thought.

Parshat Yitro 5768: The Torah of the Everyday

This week, moving towards Sinai, Moses’ father in law Yitro catches up with the Israelites bringing Moses’ sons and wife with him. Yitro explains the concepts of delegation and bureaucracy, and then the people get ready for the Ten Commandments, which take up the last part of this portion.

I had a lot of interesting and positive comments last weekend concerning my comments about Roller coasters, Disney and applying them to Torah. I seem to do things a little differently than others, and definitely off the beaten path. I’ve been thinking about what I do differently and how it shapes not only what I write here but what keeps me writing when I could be doing so many other things.

This week, we have the setup and the delivery not of the Mitzvot, but the identity statement of He who will Give the mitzvot to Israel. Every part of the Ten Commandments will be restated in a far clearer way later in the Torah, much of it in the next portion Mishpatim. What we have here is a summary, and an introduction to the relationship between the mitzvot, God, and the Jewish people.

1. And God spoke all these words, saying, 2. I am the Lord your God, who have brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. 3. You shall have no other gods before me. 4. You shall not make for you any engraved image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth; 5. You shall not bow down yourself to them, nor serve them; for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children to the third and fourth generation of them that hate me; 6. And showing mercy to thousands of those who love me, and keep my commandments.

Past this point the commandments we have more concrete ideas: Shabbat can be explained the way Philo of Alexandria explained it. A person rested can be more productive the other six days. The rest is simple ethics. Thus we have three parts of Decalogue. We have the exclusive relationship with God, the witnessing of God’s creation on the day of rest, and the rules to be civil to one another. Yet all of them are about the first part, the relationship with God. We do these things to be in relationship with God. How we define and perceive this relationship differs among individuals and communities.

I recently was at an Orthodox home for Erev Shabbos. For the traditional D’var Torah at the dinner table, halakah for Shabbat was recited out of a very thick book of halakic rulings. Based on the rules derived from the Mishnah’s prohibition against harvesting during Shabbat came a ruling of not using a Hammock, for fear of knocking anything off the tree, and thus unintentionally harvesting. I actually understand the rabbinic thinking here, and do appreciate it. So I took the next step and asked another question: What if the tree is dead? With a little searching on our host’s part he found out that at least for hammocks it didn’t matter if the tree was alive or dead, and though the derivation wasn’t clear, it was probably based on dead produce or branches falling off the tree. Along the way, we found out that you can sit on a dead tree stump but not a live one, though some authorities believe you can only do that in summer and not winter when you can tell the difference between a live one and dead one.

Several of the guests who were not very religious at the table later mentioned to me they didn’t get such hairsplitting. Nor did they understand the seemingly contradictory nature of first restricting then finding loopholes to that restriction. But for me it makes sense if you make certain assumptions. The most vital of those assumptions is the nature of the relationship between God and Man. For those who religiously follow Halakah, they need to follow the mitzvot explicitly, even when not given full directions to do so. Yet, to completely restrict ourselves in every case leaves us unable to do anything, including fulfilling other mitzvot. This is much like a pattern of relationship where we love our partner so much we would do anything for them, even when we are not completely sure what they actually said or wanted. Such is the nature of Halakic Torah.

On the other hand there is a pattern I’ve seen in my experience in Liberal Judaism. During many discussions I’ve had in Reform settings, the same questions keep coming back. What is the nature of divine revelation, or does it even really exist? Why do bad thing happen to good people? Even though those are the hard philosophical questions; the “hard portions” to talk about are those which are all halakic. Stories are good stuff, Halakhah is avoided in discussion. Theology or in Hebrew Aggadah dominates discussions and belief. This has been true since the inception of the Reform movement, and while traditional elements are bringing back some things, such as a more traditional prayer service as exemplified by the new siddur Mishkan Tefilah, the core of this way of relationship is discussing the nature of the relationship. It is like two people dating who always go out on dates and spend the entire time talking about what their relationship is, and whether it really exists. They never bother to get around to holding hands, kissing or really enjoying the company of their love.

Then there is the third kind of relationship what I would call the Everyday Torah. Many people, mainly mystics, have seen it before. Yet, I believe it is far more approachable than some esoteric mysticism. My first exposure to it was not Jewish but as a core value of Taoism. It is fundamental to Lurianic Kabbalah. The Baal Shem Tov certainly knew of it and based much of what he did on it. Abraham Joshua Heschel’s Yiddish poetry sings of it. Probably of all movements the Renewal movement has the most consistent elements of this type of relationship. But maybe it is King David who sings of it most succinctly:

The earth is the Lord’s and all that fills it

The world and those who dwell in it

For he has founded it upon the seas,

And established it upon the rivers. [Psalm 24:1-2]

In this view there is a bit of holiness in everything, a bit of the divine in every part of our reality. The late Carl Sagan liked to talk that “we are made of Star stuff.” In this relationship, There is only God-Stuff, and everything is made of God stuff. God is everything and then some. Because the human mind needs to divide things to understand them, the “then some” part we call God, “the divine,” or the “worlds above.” The concrete part we can sense call “this world”, or “the worlds below.” We are in relationship with everything as we are in the relationship with the divine. One bittersweet way of looking at such a relationship I can find in my apartment, reminders of my late grandfathers (may their memory be for a blessing) On my desk, there are some letter openers and a big paperweight paperclip that used to sit on my Grandfather’s desk from as early as I can remember. Not far away is the talit katan and siddur of my other grandfather. In seeing those objects I remember my grandfathers and I get back into relationship with them. There is a tie I still have that I was given by an ex-girlfriend on Sweetest Day. I remember her every time I wear it. This often is the relationship we have with the Divine, as something that is not here, as transcendent, but there are reminders in our lives that if we see them we remember. The whole point of tzitzit is exactly that, to remember [Numbers 15:39]. Yet I believe not only in objects of holiness like tzitzit or an Eternal Light do this. Anything, a sign on a passing truck, a song on the radio, a bit of overheard conversation, we can remember God this if we only we make the effort.

Of course my ex-girlfriend is not the tie, and my grandfather is not a paperclip paperweight. To treat my tie like a girlfriend, buy it flowers, treat it to chocolate on Valentines Day, or even sleep with it would be outright insane. To say these objects are the person is wrong. That is idolatry, and that is the danger of misunderstanding this relationship, something I have seen on occasion. This is so much the case, God after saying “I am” in the Decalogue states not to get into this crazy thinking.

You shall not make for you any engraved image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth; 5. You shall not bow down yourself to them, nor serve them; for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children to the third and fourth generation of them that hate me;

This is the relationship with the transcendent God. Yet Torah of the Everyday, like many mystic systems has no problems with paradox. God is both imminent and transcendent. God’s imminence means that every thing and action emanates God’s holiness out – it is not just reminder, but a conduit of the holy. It is the still small voice Elijah heard at Sinai [I K 19:12], a tiny spark in the sunshine, a small vibration. The Noise, vibrations and light of our secular world, tends to mask the holy world right there in front of us. Every action and every object is Torah and Midrash in this view, everything Divine Revelation and Miracle. They are not the thunder and fire of Sinai. Our experience is more like Elijah’s experience at Sinai, God was not in the fire. Instead God-expreience is very small or taken for granted but the experience is alwys there. We just have to get used to looking for it, and even then it’s difficult at times unless we make it habit. I’ve learned to see some of these, seeing roller coasters as Midrash or Harley-Davidson riders as a commentary on how to treat Torah. I often rely on such experience in writing this column, and in my view of holiness in general.

I have talked about Everyday Torah this week very inadequately falling back into that theology mode for some thing I usually do wordlessly. This is not about words but perceptions of the world around us, of perceiving what is really there. To help us in this, God mandated on Sinai a weekly practice day:

8. Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. 9. Six days shall you labor, and do all your work;

10. But the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord your God; in it you shall not do any work, you, nor your son, nor your daughter, your manservant, nor your maidservant, nor your cattle, nor your stranger that is within your gates; 11. For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day, and made it holy.

Shabbat is there not only to rest our bodies but for us to witness creation, to see the Divine in the mundane. It’s the weekly exercise in getting the Torah of the Everyday into our everyday lives, when it is so hard to practice such things the other six days.

I believe there is not one right relationship to God of these three, nor is there one right blend. Since I’m taking a painting class right now I’d compare it to painting with the three primary colors, blue, red, and yellow. We can use them pure in places or blend them to make oranges violets and greens, even blacks. We might thin them to paler colors, or we can darken them. We put those colors to canvas or paper in different shapes and styles of painting. In our painting of Life we use these all together to make a masterpiece. The skill is to know which colors to use in what balance to achieve this painting, which is as unique as the individual.

That is what I try to accomplish every week. By the time I’m done writing these words every week, I take a dab of the scholarly Halakic mind immersed in a variety of classical texts and blend with some Aggadah. With those ranges of colors I paint over a glaze of Everyday Torah, then highlight again with parable from more everyday Torah. In the end I come up with a picture, one that defines me and my world. Often I’ve been told how personal my Midrash is. Actually everyone’s Midrash is, I’m just a bit more obvious about that. Rashi, Maimonides, and Judah HaNasi put their personalities and biographies into their works as much as I have, it’s just we rarely look for their hidden bios since they lived so far in the past. Torah has been called the blueprint of the Universe. The Ten Commandments this week are the abstract of that blueprint. Shlomo’s Drash is my dynamic blueprint of Shlomo’s World. Hopefully this week’s column is also my abstract of what I want to do – Live Torah fully.

Let me end with an invitation, which really is what Shlomo's Drash is, though an invitation rarely accepted to my knowledge. I invite everyone to write Midrash of the everyday, to see all the relationships we have with God and express them to others. Do this not to change other’s opinions as much as to report what one’s own unique perception brings to the Torah of the everyday. We each make a painting, Let us build an art gallery together.

Blessings and Midrash to all.

Parshat Beshallah 5768: Serious thrill issues Dude!

This week, we start with the Israelites leaving Egypt going the long way, so the Israelites don’t meet the Philistines and get discouraged by war. Instead, they get themselves sandwiched between Pharaoh’s whole army and the Red Sea, only to have a miracle save them. On the other side of the Red Sea, the people, and in a rare occurrence in biblical text, even the women led by Miriam, dance in joy. They sing that God is good, in their words mi chamocha, “who is like you?” From there, the people complain about the water and food, when miracles save the day, including the incredible food substance Manna. God also introduces Shabbat observance by commanding that a double portion of manna be taken on the six day, as he doesn’t cook on Shabbos. To end the portion, we are introduced to Joshua, who repels an Amelakite attack with the help of God, Moses and two very tired arms.

Last week, during my vacation in Disney world, on about my fourth ride on Test Track while turning a very tight curve at 64.8 MPH I had an odd thought. A man who only five years ago was terrified to get on this ride is riding it repeatedly. In the past, getting on thrill rides was merely an exercise in fear, seeing if I can get over my fear of such rides. Now, however they are actually fun and I’d do them over and over again. Screaming along the outside of the building, I thought: What makes such things fun?

While this may not seem to have a connection to this week’s portion, the answer to that question explains a lot of what happens through the portion of the people’s flip flopping between rejoicing and fear.

10. And when Pharaoh drew near, the people of Israel lifted up their eyes, and, behold, the Egyptians marched after them; and they were very afraid; and the people of Israel cried out to the Lord. 11. And they said to Moses, because there were no graves in Egypt, have you taken us away to die in the wilderness? Why have you dealt thus with us, to carry us forth out of Egypt? 12. Is not this the word that we did tell you in Egypt, saying, Let us alone, that we may serve the Egyptians? For it had been better for us to serve the Egyptians, than that we should die in the wilderness. [Ex 14:10-12]

1. Then sang Moses and the people of Israel this song to the Lord, and spoke, saying, I will sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously; the horse and his rider has he thrown into the sea…20. And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a tambourine in her hand; and all the women went out after her with tambourines, dancing. [Exodus 15]

2. (K) And the whole congregation of the people of Israel murmured against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness; 3. And the people of Israel said to them, Would to God we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the meat pots, and when we did eat bread to the full; for you have brought us forth into this wilderness, to kill this whole assembly with hunger.[16:2-3]

First they leave, and then are afraid of death by Pharaoh’s chariots. The splitting of the Red Sea, and its subsequent closing, leads to big celebration. Then a few days later they are grumbling about water, only to have that relieved, then a few weeks later they are grumbling about food, only to be relieved with manna. The last part of the portion has the curious battle with Amalek which goes one way then another, depending if Moses’ hands are up in the air or not.

Over and over we have fear and resolution of that fear. As I’ve written before, every time I go to Disney World, I’m fascinated by fear. Most don’t think of amusement parks this way, but they are a laboratory of fear. It is here that some of our most hard-wired fears are exploited, and many people come here exactly for that reason. Somewhere deep in our most primitive brain, we have been programmed to react to falling, being in the dark, being flung from a tree or of something thrown at us. Our physiology changes to react to this event. When the crisis is resolved, we have this euphoric relief. Now imagine having all of that thrown at you within seconds of each other, and each time there is almost instantaneous relief. Essentially you end up with a relief as you hit a new obstacle, cumulatively building to a continuous and joyous thrill. Your fear of dying is around every corner, and when you don’t you become a very happy puppy. You become so happy you need to ride again just to get the same feel.

From the crossing of the Sea until Moses strikes the rock in the Book of Numbers, we get a cycle of this type of behavior from the people. People get afraid for their lives then start whining until Moses has to bail them out by interceding with God. It is clear from the episode of the spies this is a generational thing, and the generation that continually pulls this kind of stunt is not the one that enters the land. Interestingly, the last time people whine, we are told Moses too will not enter the land. For the first time we get a new idea, Moses won’t be there to intercede in the new land –it’s up to the people. At that point, they change.

There are different ways of having a thrill addiction. One is when you have someone in your life who keeps bailing you out of situations, not only are you relieved, but there’s even a psychological high, a thrill, one people can get addicted to. Watching little kids one can see this. Some kids invent small crises, such as needing that princess outfit or pirate sword, to get their parents to save them. That the toy is quickly ignored once bought underlines it was the crisis, not the object that was the issue.

In Torah from Exodus 14 through Numbers 20 we have the Israelites whining like such five year olds. Yet in that same text, there are people who somehow act differently, and do the courageous thing. Joshua and Caleb definitely fit in this category. I would argue Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu do in martyrdom. But there is one character mentioned the Rabbis ascribe courage to more than any of these: Nahshon ben Amminadab.

Each tribe was unwilling to be the first to enter the sea. Then sprang forward Nahshon the son of Amminadab and descended first into the sea…At that time Moses was engaged for a long while in prayer; so the Holy One, blessed be He, said to him, ‘My beloved ones are drowning in the sea and thou prolongest prayer before Me!’ He spake before Him, ‘Lord of the Universe, what is there in my power to do?’ He replied to him, Speak unto the children of Israel that they go forward. And lift thou up thy rod, and stretch out thy hand etc. [Sotah 37a]

It was because of Nahshon’s actions that the sea split. My reason for being so interested in fear at Disney is not just about amusement rides. It’s a metaphor for something more. How do I, or anyone for that matter deal with fear? In our world there are far more complex mental fears that the basic physical fear of falling to our deaths. Social anxieties abound. For many, the fear of asking someone out on a date or of speaking in public is more terrifying than falling off a roof.

Nahshon showed courage and faith. That is why his otherwise obscure story becomes one of those rabbinic commentaries, like Abram smashing the idols, so beloved to be virtually part of the biblical story. Was his courage merely suppressing fear? I don’t think so. Why is it so many people, including me, seem to fail at being courageous? They try suppressing fear, and fear bounces back at them even stronger than before. Nahshon felt his fear, but not as fear but as thrill, and thus transformed it into a courageous act. Because of his perfect faith in God, Nahshon transforms his fear of drowning into the act the saves the people.

Nahshon felt thrill one way. The whiny Israelites before Moses struck the rock felt it another way. Yet I believe both enjoyed the experience. Like the party after the crossing of the sea, the people enjoyed it so much, they intentionally felt helpless so that they could feel it again. Nahshon on the other hand took control of his fear and changed it into thrill, which came out as courage. We can do either. Yet the way of the former Egyptian slaves condemns us to slavery. The way of Nahshon, turning our fear into something more powerful, opens the way to freedom.

Parshat Va’Era 5768: We need a (super)Hero

After Moses’ first disaster talking to Pharaoh and the Israelites, God talks to Moses again and tells him to talk to the Israelites again, they are so stressed out, they promptly ignore him. Then God tells a despondent Moses to talk to Pharaoh once again, and Moses objects -- again. God tells Moses that he will use signs and wonders in order to make completely clear God’s power. First there is the wonder of the staff being turned into a snake, then the staff eating the other snakes. Then begins the plagues, where we have the first seven of the ten: blood, frogs, lice, swarms, cattle disease, boils and hail.
Last week I asked some questins. One of those questions wasn’t answered: how does the Moses of Parshat Shmot differ in being a prophet from the Moses of after lat week’s portion?

1. And the Lord said to Moses, See, I have made you a god to Pharaoh; and Aaron
your brother shall be your prophet. 2. You shall speak all that I command you;
and Aaron your brother shall speak to Pharaoh, that he send the people of Israel
out of his land. 3. And I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, and multiply my signs and
my wonders in the land of Egypt. [Exodus 7:1-3]

The difference is wonderworking. It is the number of signs and wonders God brings during the period until the Israelites leave Egypt. On his first attempt, mild mannered Moses simply asks Pharaoh to let the people go. On his second attempt, Aaron’s staff eats the other staffs, and things escalate from there. While we will learn later in the Torah that magic is a prohibited practice, wonderworking is not. What’s the difference? Magic as described by Pagan peoples is a force that is separate and superior to the gods, and which the gods use to manipulate the world. However, this same force can be harnessed by people as well and used against the gods and against other people. Wonderworking on the other hand, only comes from one source. It is part of God, thus it cannot be superior to God and cannot be turned against God. Indeed it is the Magicians of Pharaoh who declare this succinctly.

14. And the magicians did likewise with their enchantments to bring forth lice,
but they could not; so there were lice upon man, and upon beast. 15. Then the
magicians said to Pharaoh, This is the finger of God; yet Pharaoh’s heart was
hardened, and he listened not to them; as the Lord had said. Exodus
[8:14-15]

One way to look on such magic is in comparing two more modern stories. Coming into popularity in the 18th century, there is the story of the golem of the earlier Maharal of Prague. In the 19th century, Mary Shelly wrote Frankenstein with its famous monster. For Shelly, to make life from inanimate material was against the will of God. The golem however was brought to life through prayer. Jewish thinking believes that the Golem came to life through divine will, humans only facilitated that will. The Frankenstein monster ran amok, and caused great devastation. The Golem was a protector of the Jews as long as it was kept under control and used responsibly. Both were inanimate men made real, something that is a wonder.
The story of the Golem inspired Frankenstein, yet one was Jewish thinking and one was Western thinking. But that is not the only story that the golem inspired, as several books published recently have come to note. In fiction, we have the work of Michael Chabon in the Adventures of Cavlier and Clay. However more authoritative non fiction works about this come from Rabbi Simcah Weinstein and Journalist and Author Danny Fingeroth.
While not as bad as Germany, Anti Semitism was rampant in the early part of the twentieth century in America. In one industry, commercial graphics and comic strips, this was particularly true. If you were Jewish, you could not find work. Two good Jewish boys from Cleveland, Jerry Siegel and Joe Schuster kept pitching this character they invented to newspapers. Being Jewish, the papers would not even talk to the duo. Eventually a New York publishing firm that was running not a single strip but a whole set of strips in a single book bought the concept: Superman.
Whether what they invented was Jewish or not is still a matter for debate. But the comic book industry in its inception was dominated by Jewish authors, editors and artists. With the exception of Wonder Woman, most of the major superheroes that came out of that early time including Batman and Captain America came from Jewish writers and editors. While reading the history of Jews and comic books stuff as my winter break recreation, I have been thinking a lot about one character doing one thing. In a lot of wish fulfillment in very isolationist America, months before Pearl Harbor, Captain America punches Hitler. Apparently a lot wish fulfillment: leading up to the war Captain America was outselling Batman and Superman.
While Superman’s origin story has a lot of overtones of Moses’ story, Captain America #1 has elements of Moses confronting Pharaoh – it is wonder he ever got that far to save the day. While debates of whether Superman is really an update of the Golem legend continue, one thing becomes clear about these characters. Very few of them went looking for powers. They were inherent or were thrust upon them, often in accidents or tragedies they could not have imagined. They work wonders, and they do so using their God-given powers. Even Batman, who uses his intellect and training alone, did this to avenge his parent’s tragic death. Superheroes use their powers to promote the good.
Prophets, on the other hand, don’t do a lot of good, they just talk up a storm. Even the few wonderworking prophets like Elisha and Elijah only give demonstrations of God’s power, and really do nothing that saves the people. Prophets might yell at you to not climb a tree, and tell you the consequences if you do, but only the superhero would fly up to catch you in mid air when you fall. Moses with the plagues, staff and the red sea, is actively leaving Egypt. This is not the actions of a prophet, but a superhero.
So, yes, what I’m saying is that Moses may have started as a prophet in the last portion, but ended up as the prototype of the superhero in much of the rest of the story. The next question is why. In time of darkness, there is a need for superheroes. The 1930’s and 40’s was a time where Antisemitism was rampant, the Holocaust was real, and FDR’s government actively suppressed information about the Shoah. In such times, a fictional character who had the ability to do the right things fired people’s imagination. With the Depression, one didn’t need to be Jewish to feel oppressed. To an oppressed people in Egypt, the plagues were not about Pharaoh, but about hope of the Israelites, the more wonders Moses does the more people get inspired. For the people who begin this portion who will not listen to Moses the prophet due to their “anguished spirit,” [Exodus 6:9] inspiration is just what they need, and Moses the superhero delivers.
Today, are we in need of superheroes? In the last two decades, Both Captain America and Superman died. Superman returned, but, Captain America is still dead. What does that tell us about ourselves?
Again, I’ll leave that as an open question.

Shemot 5768: What Manner of Man is the Prophet?

This week we start the book of Exodus and are introduced to the setup for the rest of the Torah. A Pharaoh who does not know Joseph arises and appealing to national security, has the Israelites enslaved. Things get worse. Pharaoh has the midwives try to kill all the newborn boys but they do not heed him. In response Pharaoh then decides to kill all male newborns by drowning, though one baby escapes this by being sent down the river, ending up living in the palace, until he murders an Egyptian task master. The slave who this guy saves rewards him by ratting him out. To escape Pharaoh’s anger, this man flees to Midian where he finds a bride, becomes a shepherd and has a rather interesting conversation with a burning bush. This man is of course Moses. And this week is really his story.

This week has been a challenge to write this. I had an idea and yet I have not been able to figure out what to do with it. So let me start with the idea.

The synagogue I attend is in a northern suburb of Chicago, but I live in downtown Chicago. On the many occasions I go from one to the other, I travel along Lake Shore Drive and turn off at Bryn Mawr Avenue. As I get to the first traffic light, there is a big pink stone building on the corner. My first recollections of this building were of my dad’s former boss and mentor living there. I learned less than a year ago about the time a boss and mentor of one of my teachers gave an address there and made a friend which arguably would change all of American history.

In January 1963, Abraham Joshua Heschel began a speech at the Edgewater Beach Hotel at the opening of the first conference of race and relations, quoting this week’s Parsha.

At the first conference on religion and race, the main participants were Pharaoh and Moses. Moses’ words were: “Thus says the Lord the God of Israel, let My people go that they my celebrate a feast to Me” While Pharaoh retorted: “Who is the Lord, that I should heed their voice and let Israel go? I do not know the Lord, And moreover I will not let Israel go.”

The outcome of that summit meeting has not come to an end. Pharaoh is not ready to capitulate. The exodus began, but is far from being completed. In fact, it was easier for the children of Israel to cross the Red Sea than for a Negro to cross certain university campuses. [The Insecurity of Freedom p.85]

Closing the conference was a speech by Martin Luther King. Heschel and King left the conference as friends.

Passing Bryn Mawr and Sheridan so often, I don’t always pay attention to the building. Yet this week as I passed the building early Friday morning to attend a class I had the strangest feeling, and a question would not leave me: “What manner of Man is the prophet?” This was the first sentence in Heschel’s Doctoral dissertation which eventually would be translated from German into English by Heschel as The Prophets.

I didn’t understand why this was going around in my head. It seemed like I found what my Shlomo’s Drash would be for the week. Yet this has been very difficult to write without writing another graduate level paper. So most of this week I’ve spent at Spertus’ Asher Library trying to figure out what I wanted to write. I’ve been failing badly at it.

On a fluke I checked the Encyclopedia Judaica on Heschel, and found a rather startling surprise. I was on my way to class on the 12^th of Tevet. Heschel’s 35^th yartzeit was the 11^th.

My original idea was to figure out is Moses was a prophet. However, it pretty definitive since we read in Deuteronomy:

Deut. 34:10. And there has not arisen since in Israel a prophet like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face.

Moses standing in front of Pharaoh makes him the first prophet of the biblical text to approach a king. As I wrote last year, his story parallels Jeremiah, including his reluctance to take on the role of prophet.

A few days before his death, in an NBC television interview with Carl Stern, Heschel summarized his view of the prophet:

The idea of a prophet is complex and consists above all of two things.

Of the message or the substance of what the prophet has to say from some extraordinary claim to an experience which is not given to other men.

In other words there are two parts to the prophet: the message the Prophet gives and the unique way the prophet receives that message, what some might call divine revelation. Heschel continued (bold mine):

Let us ignore the second, let us take the first.

What's so great about the message of the prophet, about the prophet as a character? I would say the prophet is a man who is able to hold God and man in one thought, at one time, at all times. This is so great and this is so marvelous. Which means that whatever I do to man, I do to God. When I hurt a human being, I injure God.

Moses was not one of the prophets that Heschel described in his book. Yet I wonder: how does Moses fit the Heschel’s model of the prophet? How, in this week’s portion, does Moses act the prophet? Does he act the prophet more now than he does in later encounters with Pharaoh? How given Heschel’s model do we become better people?

Those are a lot of questions for which I have no answers. Finding such answers, I could write a dissertation. But I’m not going to.

Instead, I’m going to make an invitation. You give me your answers.

For those of you in the Chicago Area who can get there, I will be leading the Torah Study portion of the service during the Kahal Shabbat Morning services this Saturday at Beth Emet the Free Synagogue in Evanston. Services start at 9:30. Come with your thoughts and your answers. Let’s discuss these questions together.

If you are not able to attend, then go over to my blog at shlomosdrash.blogspot.com and write down your thoughts as a comment on this weeks entry.

Winter Solstice 5768: Why We Eat Chinese Food for Christmas

After spending most of Friday wishing people “happy solstice holiday of your choice” The idea for this came about twenty minutes before sunset Friday. Since I was taking my weekly trip to Shabbosville, so I had to wait till today to write this.

My thoughts on one of the beloved Jewish American traditions related to this time of year, Chinese food on Christmas Eve, started actually at work. As a restaurant consultant, I once did a site meeting a few days after Christmas at an upscale Chinese restaurant, one of several restaurants in a chain of restaurants with a variety of cuisines. The chef had just been transferred from an Italian restaurant a few months earlier, and so this was his first Christmas Eve.

“So were you open Christmas Eve?” I asked him.

He looked at me. “Yes, we were the only restaurant in the chain open which I thought odd, until I was shocked at how busy we were” he replied.

Smirking, I asked “A lot of takeout business I suspect, and I bet they were all named Cohen, Levy or Schwartz”

He looked at me like I was a magician. “How did you know that?”

So I explained to him the great Jewish American tradition of Chinese and a Movie on Christmas Eve.

While jokes about Chinese food mandated in the Talmud abound, this curious tradition however does have its roots in the Talmud, In the tractate that describes how a Jew is supposed to live in a idolatrous world Avodah Zarah, there is a Mishnah that deals with the issue of Saturnalia and Kalenda, the Hellenistic winter solstice festivals, forbidding business transactions with idolaters on those days. But in explaining these two festivals, the rabbis provide us with a fascinating passage about the origins of these two festivals:

Our Rabbis taught: When primitive Adam saw the day getting gradually shorter, he said, ‘Woe is me, perhaps because I have sinned, the world around me is being darkened and returning to its state of chaos and confusion; this then is the kind of death to which I have been sentenced from Heaven!’ So he began keeping an eight days’ fast. But as he observed the winter equinox and noted the day getting increasingly longer, he said, ‘This is the world's course’, and he set forth to keep an eight days’ festivity. In the following year he appointed both as festivals. Now, he fixed them for the sake of Heaven, but the [heathens] appointed them for the sake of idolatry. [Avodah Zarah 8a]

The rabbis claim the holidays not just for themselves but all humanity, dating back to the time of Adam. And there may be something to this. Primitive man may have seen the days growing shorter and thought the end of the word was coming, and then rejoiced when the daylight began to increase. Besides Kalenda, there was another Roman related festival at this time of year, the birth of Mithras, a sun god prevalent in both the Middle East and the Roman military. Mithras was born (or resurrected depending on your point of view) three days after the solstice, on the 25^th of December. The sun was literally born on the 25^th, which was a time for some serious partying and feasting, and possibly a few human sacrifices. Most scholars point out that the “tax rolls” of the New Testament that Joseph and Mary were traveling to Jerusalem for had to be one of the harvest festivals, of which are spring and fall festivals. For the early Christians, however, all this festive activity around them made it difficult to get converts or keep converts from celebrating the idolatrous holidays. So they made a simple change: It was not the birth of the sun god Mithras, but the birth of the Son of God -- Jesus.

The Church fathers were not the first to pull this stunt. Several hundred years earlier, someone else did too. Judah Maccabee re-dedicated the temple on the same day of its desecration two years earlier: the 25^th of Kislev (I Maccabees 4:52-54). From the texts in I and II Maccabees, it’s likely that the desecration of the Temple which started the revolt may very well have been a Saturnalia or Kalenda festival. The Maccabees celebrated for eight days, claiming that since they were so busy fighting they could not observe Sukkot, and this was a replacement for Sukkot. Coincidentally, Kalenda and Saturnalia were eight days long, and this might have been a ruse to once again get people to celebrate within their religion at a time when the world was very busy partying.

Yet the book of Maccabees is not included in the biblical text, and Hanukkah is an extra-biblical holiday. The Maccabees, later called the Hasmonean dynasty, were extremely violent fundamentalist rulers. What’s worse, they asked for help in their activities from Rome, who would eventually destroy the temple. Neither of these facts enamored them to the Rabbis of the Talmud, who has very little problem banning the books of Maccabees from the Biblical canon. But Judah Maccabee’s assessment that there needed to be a religious cover for the solstice holidays was right on the mark. The rabbis just couldn’t have the military victory be the reason for the holiday. So they told this story:

What is [the reason of] Hanukkah? For our Rabbis taught: On the twenty-fifth of Kislev [commence] the days of Hanukkah, which are eight on which a lamentation for the dead and fasting are forbidden. For when the Greeks entered the Temple, they defiled all the oils therein, and when the Hasmonean dynasty prevailed against and defeated them, they made search and found only one cruse of oil which lay with the seal of the High Priest, but which contained sufficient for one day's lighting only; yet a miracle was wrought therein and they lit [the lamp] therewith for eight days. The following year these [days] were appointed a Festival with [the recital of] Hallel and thanksgiving.[Shabbat 21b]

The military victory was replaced with a miracle, using the rest of the story to maintain the tradition. Like the Church fathers, The Rabbis maintained the tradition by keeping the dates and changing the story slightly. Yet the 25^th of Kislev provided a problem in this observance. Jewish calendars are of course lunar. The date of Hanukkah tends to wander when compared to the solar calendar. Hanukkah might be celebrated before Christmas, and sometimes even after.

Yet halfway around the world, Chinese civilization influenced the calendar of most of the Asian nations around them. Using both a lunar and solar calendar the post-solstice festival occurs not days after the winter solstice but two new moons after the winter solstice. Chinese New Year usually occurs in late January or early February. The December holidays to most traditional Chinese was meaningless.

All this came together with the immigrant populations of the United States. Because their calendars used lunar dates, The Chinese and the Jewish immigrants had nothing to do on a day where everyone else, who was Christian, had closed their shops. The Chinese had found selling food was a profitable business, and Jews like to eat, particularly a food which was relatively easy to maintain the dietary requirements of kashrut. Thus a tradition was started.

In short, one could say the tradition of eating Chinese on Christmas was started by a bunch of American lunatics.