Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Shlomos Drash Parshat Naso 5766 - Raising Heads

This week the census continues with the census of the Levites. Afterwards, God tells Moses to isolate the lepers, and then explains a sin offering. Following this, God explains the procedure for the bitter waters rite for women suspected of adultery. We then get the instruction for a Nazirite, one who consecrate oneself for divine service for a period of time. Then the famous blessings of the priests to the congregation

May the Lord bless you, and keep you;
May the Lord make his face shine upon you, and be gracious to you;
May the Lord lift up his face upon you, and grant you peace. [Numbers 6:24-26]

Yet in all that is going on in this portion, for the second time in a row I can’t get past the first two verses. For that matter, once again I got stuck on the word which gives this portion its name Naso. Naso literally mean lift, carry or Take away. The word that follows this is rosh, Head. Yet if you read a translation, there is

21. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, 22. Take also a census of the sons of Gershon, throughout the houses of their fathers, by their families; [Numbers 4:21-22]

The phrase to lift the head is a way of saying take a census. But is there more nuances of meaning from this phrase?

I’ve found four ways to think about this phrase. The first is to understand it in this literal way of taking a census. This, of course is not the first time the issue of a census this has come up. God in the beginning of Parshat Ki Tisa gives directions for the census:

12. When you take the census of the people of Israel according to their number, then shall they give every man a ransom for his soul to the Lord, when you count them; that there should be no plague among them, when you count them. 13. This they shall give, every one who passes among those who are counted, half a shekel according to the shekel of the sanctuary; a shekel is twenty gerahs; a half shekel shall be the offering of the Lord. [Exodus 30:12-13]

Again the term here for take a census is lift the head. But interestingly one does not count people but money. The tradition is that one does not count people, so that people become mere numbers. Yet one can count objects, like coins. In one classic dodge of this rule, people counting for minyans might use the phrase “not Nine…not eight…etc.” or some will count by a ten word phrase.

Then again, we must remember the reason for this census. It is to establish the number of active individuals for service. Among the Levites it’s for the various function of Temple service, but for the other tribes it is military service. And so, as in English to be counted means also to participate.

Secondly we have the use of the phrase in Genesis. Joseph while in Jail interpreted the dreams of the chief butler and chief baker of Pharaoh. After the butler tells his dream Joseph responds:

And within three days shall Pharaoh lift up your head, and restore you to your place; and you shall deliver Pharaoh’s cup into his hand, after the former manner when you were his butler.[Gen 40:13]

But for the baker, Joseph says, in a bit of a very interesting double entendre which happens to work in both English and Hebrew.

And within three days shall Pharaoh lift up your head…off you, and shall hang you on a tree; and the birds shall eat your flesh off you. [Gen 40:19]

Then we read
20. And it came to pass the third day, which was Pharaoh’s birthday, that he made a feast for all his servants; and he lifted up the head of the chief butler and of the chief baker among his servants. 21. And he restored the chief butler to his butlership again; and he gave the cup into Pharaoh’s hand; 22. But he hanged the chief baker; as Joseph had interpreted to them. [Gen 40:20-22]

Here we have the second meaning, that to lift the head is to pay attention to a person, for good or bad. It is a sense of acknowledgement, of noticing the person as a person, and not as a number.

The third way to lift the head is one I mentioned two weeks ago. In Numbers 1:2, we find another way of taking the census besides shekels,

2. Take a census of all the congregation of the people of Israel, by families, by the house of their fathers, according to the number of names, every male by their polls;

The phrase by the number of their names is in Hebrew b’mispar shemot. The root word for number s-p-r (ספר) is also the root word for story by recounting events. The word Shemot usually means names. But can also, as it does in the very beginning of the book of Exodus Eileh shemot, translate to these are the genealogies, the stories of our ancestors and our own stories. Telling stories means that we transmit the information of the past to the present and hopefully the future. By telling our individual stories to the collective group our story become more than just ourselves it become part of our family or of our community.

Yet to tell a good story, one that people will listen to, we must raise our heads up for people to hear us. In my job I often have to do corporate training of adults. One thing I am very careful about when I conduct training sessions is making eye contact and looking at the face of the people in the room. There is the story of a miraculous thing that happened when the Hasidic masters, starting with the Baal Shem Tov, would give talks. The people listening would believe that the great master was talking specifically to them. Some of this is the skill to look at everyone in the room and make eye and face contact with every person. Another is to keep our head up to shine confidence. Then it becomes an upward spiral. As we tell our story, people will pay attention to our story, raising their heads, and as people pay attention to us it raises our own heads in confidence about our story.

The last meaning for our phrase comes from a rather interesting if not ironic, source. Its source is the very early legal authority Shammai, a character in a well-known story about his counterpart, Hillel:

On another occasion it happened that a certain heathen came before Shammai and said to him, ‘Make me a proselyte, on condition that you teach me the whole Torah while I stand on one foot.’ Thereupon he repulsed him with the builder's cubit which was in his hand. When he went before Hillel, he said to him, ‘What is hateful to you, do not to your neighbor: that is the whole Torah, while the rest is the commentary; go and learn it.’`[Shabbat 31a]

Yet Shammai, the guy who goes chasing after people with a t-square was also recorded as saying in the Perkei Avot:
Shammai used to say: Make your Torah a habit; speak little, but do much; and receive everyone with a beautiful glowing (friendly) face. [M. Avot 1:15]

Shammai, rather ironically, states that we should greet everyone with a smile. Friendly expressions happen when we lift our head up enough to make eye contact and for others to see that glowing smile.

So the question remains… which one of these?

I posed that question as a Torah study question last weekend at my synagogue. And it was interesting all the answers we discussed. One rather interesting idea noted that the census of the first chapters of numbers is concerning military enrollment. Giving the example of World War Two oral history and letters home, the oral history given before one enlists or leaves for war becomes the record for future generations of their personal past. In the case of the Israelite soldiers or those Levites who are involved with the very dangerous work of handling holy objects, such things may be insurance about being remembered if one is killed in the line of duty. Another thought that developed within the group was that as we each tell our story within the group, the group becomes closer and with a more common purpose with the collective story. This grew to an interesting suggestion of having among the members of the group a way of collecting the personal stories of the group. One thought was to have everyone write a short version of our stories into a collective loose-leaf binder. Another was to take a few minutes to tell our stories within the group before the Torah service to make sure all new members felt welcome and their story was shared. Yet this last idea was met with an attack by one member who sharply shouted out: “then get here before services start!” reducing the person who gave this idea to tears. Oddly enough, this same attacker also came up to me afterwards and commented to me, that I needed to be brief in my D’var Torah and cut out all the stories.

I mention this because it was also the attacker who was almost crying about being not included in ongoing conversations, and I often do feel sad for her. I’ve been in that position myself many times. My own experience on this tells me we must lift all heads in conversation, and pay attention to listen and hear. If we are not open to recognize and acknowledge others, they will not acknowledge and recognize us. To tell our story we must be able to give and receive stories, otherwise the head does not lift. It is mutual. As I wrote this sitting in my favorite hangout spot, in an area of Chicago with many young beautiful women, I thought of one other issue about raising the head. Looking out the window at some of these beautiful women, I noticed the one thing that can kill the raising of one head is another head raised too high. As King David notes, in Psalm 101:5 “I will not endure the person who has a haughty look and an arrogant heart.” Here too the raising of the head is not mutual.

But I think in that Torah Study session, the comment that was the most mind-blowing was the person who said, “If you do the first three, then you get the fourth.” To get everyone participating, acknowledge them and to get them to tell their story leads to the smile.

Wow. Not much to say after that.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Drash Shavuot 5766

There are four things which are making writing this Drash very, very difficult this week.

The first was a finally reading the news and finding out about the situation with Mordechai Gafni. The second is Shavuot. The third is that due to a conflict between the Reform and the traditional calendar I have to think about two different Torah portions between Shlomo’s Drash and what goes on at my current Reform synagogue for the next couple of weeks.

The fourth was a social experiment in how many men are desperate to learn a fool-proof method for picking up women. And while I was very skeptical of the web-based sale of 375 sets of DVD’s recording a seminar which was supposed to make you into Casanova, it was interesting to watch the phenomenon of the internet breaking loose into a week-long panic as men worldwide tried to get their hands on those DVD’s. It was interesting to watch competitors slam the product even when they were featured in that product. It was interesting to watch the utter stunned silence and then slander from his competitors on the net when everyone found out that they were all part of a major social experiment taken on by a man going by the nickname Style, a Rolling Stone reporter turned pickup artist and author, who was using all this to research his new book. All these would-be pickup artists had just been seduced by the man they wanted to call master.

As far as the Gafni situation is concerned, while he was once my teacher, and indeed the inspiration for Shlomo’s Drash, I had my problems with him in terms of academic integrity far before this current incident. Those earlier issues led me to go elsewhere for knowledge. I also respect that others might still have learned something from him, many of whom I call friend. I’ve also learned in the time I was in the Renewal movement, to never knock a teacher for any perceived imperfection no matter how valid, since it only gets you hated by everyone else. Given the number of loyal Gafni students on this list, I’ve kept rather quiet about my own concerns.

Yet I am also one of his former students. In all the lashon hara I heard blogging the internet, much of it from people using this as an excuse to go after other targets such as Arthur Waskow, the one opinion I have not heard so far is how formerly loyal students of Gafni feel right now -- if it’s anything like me, pretty crappy.

As it is Shavuot, and the celebration of the Ten Commandments we need to remember one of those commandments

Exodus 20:12. Honor your father and your mother; that your days may be long upon the land which the Lord your God gives you.

And in relation to that quote another interesting quote from Brachot 19b

R.Samuel b. Nahmani said in R. Jonathan's name: He who teaches the child of his neighbor the Torah, Scripture ascribes it to him as if he had begotten him, as it says, Now, these are the generations of Aaron and Moses;(Num 3:1) whilst further on (v. 2,3) it is written, These are the names of the sons of Aaron: thus teaching thee that Aaron begot and Moses taught them; hence they are called by his name.

In many ways, the teacher is the parent, with the same responsibilities of the parent and child relationship in the student and teacher relationship. We honor our teachers the same way we honor our parents. We trust our teachers the same way we trust our parents to steer us away from harm. I’ve never had to be in the situation where I have been ashamed of my parent’s behavior, where they did something that would harm either my sister or me. Like most children I’ve had my moments of exasperation with them, but never have I felt betrayed by them -- that the life they led was all a lie. So even for a teacher I have moved on from, it is difficult to deal with all the conflicting emotions in me about what to feel.

If we keep this idea of the parent child relationship, we can see another problem inherent in the laws of Leviticus 18 -- incest. Sex with a student is equivalent with incest, and there is no idea of consent with incest. Whether the women involved were involved consensually or not, they are victims of a kind of incest. A person of power used that power to have sex with a person of lower power. And those of us who were mere students are very much like the brother and sister who did not know about a parent abusing our sibling. We feel betrayed. We feel bewildered in understanding that verse from the Ten utterances on Sinai. Are we to honor a parent capable of such an act? It’s difficult to believe or trust anyone. The pain of others mocking and harassing you and this parent you are supposed to honor is difficult to bear or even understand. Trying to determine what one’s own role is in all this, that sound of mocking inside your skull that you should have known and done something, tears you up inside.

I cannot understand child abuse, be it from the point of the abuser, victim or those who were around and did nothing, either through the abuser’s deceit or through denial. However, eighteen years ago, I did learn about partner abuse the hard way, as the survivor of an abusive relationship. I did try to accuse this person and stop her from hurting others, and even with the blatantly obvious in front of them I was the one who ended up hated and discredited among my friends. All this has brought a lot of old and very painful memories to surface once again. That very painful episode of my life can give me insight to the current situation and to those of us who were students. Like the charismatic Style who could convince a bunch of grown men looking for superficial love to fight each other to dish out $4000 for a set of DVD’s they really don’t know are effective, my ex girlfriend could convince anybody of anything and make you want to believe. That’s the power of a charismatic individual who knows your needs. And while all this has been a little bit of a backslide for me in my own healing, maybe it does have a silver lining, that I am able to articulate what many who are right now silent want to say but are too numb to even find the words to say.

But there is two words which I’m sure have left many a set of lips: What now?

Ironically, it was my first Shavuot Tikkun L’eil that introduced to me an answer: the story of Elisha Ben Abuya and R. Meir. Ben Abuya’s story, in Hagiga 15a-b is called Aher, “the other.” The story was also lengthened into Milton Steinberg’s novel As a Driven Leaf. It is the story of a rabbi and of his apostasy during the early Mishnaic period. Yet this apostate continues to have an important student, R. Meir. One of the study sessions that first Tikkun L’eil in a small house in the Pilsen neighborhood of Chicago brought up the opinion that Aher was not an apostate after all. While I do not agree with that opinion, I ask the same question the rabbis ask in Hagiga 15b, how can Meir learn from this guy?

But how did R. Meir learn Torah at the mouth of Aher? Behold Rabbah b. Bar Hana said that R. Johanan said: What is the meaning of the verse, For the priest's lips should keep knowledge, and they should seek the Law at his mouth; for he is the messenger of the Lord of hosts? (Malachai 2:7) [This means that] if the teacher is like an angel of the Lord of hosts, they should seek the Law at his mouth, but if not, they should not seek the Law at his mouth!

But the teaching goes further when Resh Lakish has a response to his debate partner Johanan.
— Resh Lakish answered: R. Meir found a verse and expounded it [as follows]: Incline thine ear, and hear the words of the wise, and apply thy heart unto my knowledge. (Proverbs 22:17) It does not say, ‘unto their knowledge’, but ‘unto my knowledge’.

To Resh Lakish it is God’s knowledge, not the knowledge of the teacher no matter how corrupt. Another two answers follow:

When R. Dimi came [to Babylon] he said: In the West, (i.e. Israel) they say: R. Meir ate the date and threw the kernel away.

Raba expounded: What is the meaning of the verse: I went down to the garden of nuts, to look at the green plants of the valley etc.?(Song of Songs 6:11) Why are the scholars likened to the nut? To tell you that just as [in the case of] the nut, though it is spoiled with mud and filth, yet are its contents not contaminated, so [in the case of] a scholar, although he may have sinned, yet is his Torah not contaminated.

These three answers are the guide I will follow in this case. Gafni said and did a lot of things, many of which are very difficult to forgive, and the man may be even more difficult to trust again. Yet he also taught a few kernels of truth that were God’s words, those were important. He inspired a lot of people to embrace Torah that never would have otherwise done so. Like the nut, we can remove the shell, follow the ethical path of Torah in our deeds and plant that seed of his truly holy ideas for further growth and learning. I am reminded of two other stories. Even the Great Hillel the Elder has fewer rulings in the Mishnah than his students, Beit Hillel. It is up to the students to find the good and grow it into something more.

As we get ready for the great holy erotic moment that is Sinai we also must remember that this was to lead to the dark erotic moment while Moses descended from Sinai: the Golden Calf. From the revelation at Sinai through the book of B’midbar, the men who witnessed those words would test God with repeated mistakes and sins. As we will read within the Book of B’midbar over the next couple of weeks, that testing will end not in the parents entering the Land of Israel, but the children. The teacher is gone: we can take time to weep and mourn and maybe even say the mourner’s Kaddish for a man who is still alive. For me at least, like a modern Aher, it would be impossible to believe or trust anything from him from this point on. Maybe we as the students with a little more rigorous and critical study methods than the master can find the nuts in the shell and the flesh of the date found in the teachings, and what was important can be transmitted on by us, and what can be thought of as holiness will survive and even thrive without the teacher.

I know there is a lot of emotion out there, I apologize to those who find this offensive right now. It would not surprise me if a lot of negative energy is about to be directed my way for writing this, but I needed to put out my opinion, in the hope it is a comfort to some, and admittedly to myself. There was a silence I could not let keep silent.

Thursday, May 25, 2006

Parshat Bmidbar 5766 - In the Wilderness

Parshat B’midbar 5766 (Numbers 1:1-4:20)
This week we begin the book of Numbers, which in Hebrew is known as B’midbar, translated best as in the wilderness. Both names are appropriate. Both at the beginning and towards the end of the book, there is a lot of census and genealogy data. But in between that data is the story of the journey of the Israelites in the wilderness between Sinai and the east bank of the Jordan River, when they are almost ready to cross into Israel.

A friend of mine, who is giving a D’var Torah this week, was mentioning to me about how difficult trying to come up with a topic for discussion is when all you have is census data. I told him I have a hard time ever getting past the first two verses. I have a hard time getting past that single word B’midbar. Another friend who is doing the Torah reading at that same service also was talking about the difficulty of chanting her Torah portion, and I totally agreed with her that all the Zakef Gadolim in there makes hers a lot more difficult. But using the cantillation marks in their duty as punctuation, the two verses I find so challenging to interpret read like this:

1.
And the Lord spoke to Moses
In the wilderness of Sinai, in the Tent of Meeting
On the first day of the second month, in the second year
After they came out from the land of Egypt, saying,
2.
Raise the heads of all the congregation of the Israelites
By families, by the house of their fathers,
By the number of names,
Every male by their head;

Last weekend, I got to study several times with Rabbi Lawrence Kushner about Hasidic thought and mysticism. At the Sunday session he read a rather interesting quote found at the beginning of his book Invisible Lines of Connection that I really liked. It’s a story about Rabbi Kushner and his wife getting ready to hike on a wilderness trail, and noting all the warnings about bears on the trail. Asking a local ranger about if it the trail was totally safe the reply was, “If it was totally safe, it wouldn’t be a wilderness, would it?”

In Hawaii, I thought similarly while hiking to the active lava flows in Volcano National Park. The signs and warnings for various hazards on the trails, from dehydration to toxic sulfur dioxide emmisions, aerosolized glass inhalation or falling into a lava pit from a cave-in were everywhere. Here the idea of a trail was nothing more than a four-inch high sticky reflector adhered to the Shimmering black cooled, hardened lava flow. It was indeed wilderness, taking me almost fifteen minutes to climb lava flows the 300 yards from the paved road this previously hot lava oozed over only a few years ago to an observation point overlooking where lava fell into the sea, making new land in a huge cloud of toxic steam about a mile away. This was the “Safe trail”. The other trail would have meant climbing over these same lava flows for about another half a mile, and in the noonday sun I decided against it.

The power of the wilderness was very apparent here. It controlled what was going on, not people. No matter what civilization constructed, it was no match for the lava. The land here is always changing. And moving from the safety of an asphalt paved road to climbing over very uneven lava it occurred to me how much that wilderness not only changes the landscape but those who wander in it.

While the book of Numbers talks of accounting in the literal, on a deeper level, this is an introduction to something more, to a book of recounting, of telling stories. As several teachers have pointed out to me such a pun does not exist only in English but in the Hebrew as well, and in a rather large abundance. As R. Allen Secher once pointed to me, the word for wilderness is also the word for mouth, or the present tense verb to speak. And, As R. Mordechai Gafni points out in Soulprints, The word for number is also the word for Story. Add to this an observation: it is hard to tell a story looking down, but one has to look up into the eyes of the listeners to tell an effective story. Conversely, telling one’s story makes us more open to others, raising our heads. In B’midbar, the words for taking a count is raise the head. Put together, we have an interesting idea, that the census is not a mere headcount but a convocation of story, a time where all who were responsible enough to tell a story, which at the time were males over twenty, told their story.

For a lot of the book of Numbers we will have such a story. It is not a chronicle just of what Moses does or heard at Sinai, but a chronicle of many people, all with their own story. We will once again meet Miriam and Aaron, of course. The rest of their lives will be chronicled here. Yet Balaam, Balak, Korach, Joshua, Caleb, Dathan, Abiram and Pinchas will also be integral to the story. B’midbar starts with stories of great failure and hopelessness, but ends with stories of triumph. Joshua may start as the spy no one believes, but ends as the head of an unstoppable army, and next in line for leading the people. And what changes people might be their environment, the wilderness and the stories that are there.

While on the big Island of Hawaii, while either climbing lava flows or driving on the switchback roads, past jungle or prarie, I thought of wilderness. On the island of Oahu, I thought about story, but in a different context. While taking a tour of the island, I was more than a little irritated on the number of times there were references to television shows, particularly the currently filmed one, Lost. I have never seen the show, (I’m studying Biblical Hebrew at the time it’s on) but given the media attention, one would think this was a true story, with every plot twist even more critical to our lives than the current body count in Iraq. But as my experience with the Chicago Tribune demonstrated to me recently, not even true stories are completely true.

Then there is the early media attention to The DaVinci Code movie, and an odd thing about religion-based movies: that they will be taken as truth. Many feared that the “Mel Gibson movie” would be taken as truth and a rash of anti-Semitism would ensue. On the other hand, others feel their name is damaged by the novel The DaVinci Code as they are portrayed as the bad guys, and the proposition that much of the bible is false. Funny thing is, the ones we are most concerned about taking fiction as fact are followers of a teacher who had loved the use of the mashal, the parable. And funnier even still is that the modern majority do see it as mashal or pure entertianment and not fact.

Throughout rabbinic texts, starting with early Mishnah, we find an expression To what is this compared to? To… This is an introduction, in one form or another to a mashal, a story which really didn’t happen but whose purpose is teaching and bringing meaning to a difficult concept by changing the way we look at the essential issue. Here’s an example from Sukkah 29a:

Our Rabbis taught, When the sun is in eclipse, it is a bad omen for the whole world. This may be illustrated by a parable. To what can this be compared? To a human being who made a banquet for his servants and put up for them a lamp. When he became wroth with them he said to his servant, ‘Take away the lamp from them, and let them sit in the dark’.

In some ways the book we begin this week is the mashal of human development and of the many frailties of the human condition. It’s also how we can overcome those same frailties and become a stronger person and a stronger humanity. It’s about truly being our fullest self so we can fully serve God. The mashal of the wilderness itself tells us much, as does each of the stories of the Israelites as they live with the world in the wilderness.

Another Story that R. Lawrence Kushner last weekend told is instructive. He tell us of a congregation he used to lead were he had invited the youngsters to see the main sanctuary and to see what a Torah scroll looked like. But his time ran out, and he never got to open the Ark. So he told the kids that next time they got together he’d show them what was behind the curtain at the front of the sanctuary. When the kids got back to their class room they excitedly wondered what was behind the curtain, one child said that there was nothing, one said that it must be Jewish books, yet one rather sagely said, “No it must be a mirror.” And indeed in one sense it is a mirror, as is the stories within it. It is for us to now write the story of ourselves, true or false, fact or mashal, from our stories and from the stories told to us by others, to raise our heads in our own story, in our own development in the wilderness which is existence, reflected in the text of Torah.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Shlomos Drash - Behar Behukotai 5766 Sabbaticals and change

Sabbaticals and change.

This Week's portion begins with (Lev 25:2-6)

Speak to the people of Israel, and say to them, When you come into the land which I give you, then shall the land keep a Sabbath to the Lord. Six years you shall sow your field, and six years you shall prune your vineyard, and gather in its fruit; But in the seventh year shall be a Sabbath of rest to the land, a Sabbath for the Lord; you shall not sow your field, nor prune your vineyard. That which grows of its own accord of your harvest you shall not reap, nor gather the grapes of your vine undressed; for it is a year of rest to the land. And the sabbath produce of the land shall be food for you; for you, and for your servant, and for your maid, and for your hired servant, and for the stranger who sojourns with you,

This begins a description of some fascinating institutions, the Sabbatical and Jubilee years. Every seven years, there is to be a year of rest for the land, where it will remain fallow. The year after the seventh Sabbatical year there will be another Sabbatical year, the jubilee year, where the land would remain fallow, and there would be a full economic reset.

Bothe the jubilee and sabbatical are not observed anymore. Yet I wonder as to the importance of the Sabbatical in the modern world. There are three different cycles of rest in Torah. Of course, there is Shabbat. Every seven days we are to rest for a day. Then there is the sabbatical, where every seven years we let the land rest for a year. Finally there is the period of seven sabbaticals, the jubilee, where we let the land rest another year. Over and over again, we have the magic number seven. Indeed in caculating the Jubilee, Lev 25:8 Mentions the number seven, the number of rest, four times. Hechel is his wonderful book The Sabbath gives the metaphor of Shabbat as an island in time where we get the chance to witness creation. But, to misquote Thomas Merton, no man is an island, but a whole continent. There are things that happen over a bigger amount of time that require a different perspective. One can see this in one story of the Jewish wonder-worker Honi the circle maker. [Taanit 23a]

One day he was journeying on the road and he saw a man planting a carob tree; he asked him, How long does it take [for this tree] to bear fruit? The man replied: Seventy years. He then further asked him: Are you certain that you will live another seventy years? The man replied: I found [ready grown] carob trees in the world; as my forefathers planted these for me so I too plant these for my children.

Honi sat down to have a meal and sleep overcame him. As he slept a rocky formation enclosed upon him which hid him from sight and he continued to sleep for seventy years. When he awoke he saw a man gathering the fruit of the carob tree and he asked him, Are you the man who planted the tree? The man replied: I am his grandson. Thereupon he exclaimed: It is clear that I slept for seventy years.

Through assimilation of folklore with Germanic culture, where such a story also appears in the works of the brothers Grimm, this story may have found its way to the pen of Washing Irving in his famous short story Rip van Winkle. Yet in this story there is an important lesson: there are things we cannot see in the immediate situation which are clear when we look far more long term. There are things, like the carob tree, which take time to change. We cannot witness the change in the short term of seven days. Change, measured in seven years and fifty years, lets us see the world around us and witness the world around us in ways that seven days does not.

Punctuating this for me this week is my second attempt at chanting Torah. As I explained a few months ago, one of my goals is to learn all of the trop marks and thus to be able to chant Torah and Haftorah. So when a friend asked me to chant this week’s portion, I looked at the first few lines of the portion, saw they weren’t too bad with new trop to learn and said yes -- which I’ll admit was a bit of a mistake. It was a mistake because the next few lines are incredibly full of interesting new trop, meaning I would have to learn a lot more than I thought I was going to. Yet as I learn the Telisha Gedolah, Gershayim, and Yitiv with a few more common Revii and Tevir phrases thrown in, all of which I hadn’t learned before, I noticed something about this portion, and why these marks are so thick in this portion.

The Telisha Gedolah (right leaning lollipop), Gershayim (end double quote), and Revii (diamond) trop marks all have long emphatic and incredibly expressive sounds associated with them. This is the kind of sounds that cantors and opera singers get the big bucks for since they can expressively sing such phrases. Such emphasis often starts the verses in the passage of sabbaticals and jubilees. Such an emphasis I believe is not to merely make the chant sound better. It is making a point, an underline. It stresses the need for the Sabbatical and jubilee, even when we no longer let the land rest. But as a beginner trying to learn all this stuff, I noticed something else as well -- How difficult it is to keep all these long expressive notes separate in my mind. They come too close together and in such abundance and I’m constantly getting confused. It’s been five months since I tried for the first time to read Torah. I think it would have been easier to learn the Telisha Gedolah and the Revii with a few months in between each.
Like Rip van Winkle and Honi, longer passages of time help us to have a different perspective on what is important in life, and like my trop, make learning somewhat easier. Getting intensive to learn these little marks on the page so I can chant properly on Saturday, I realized something about myself - my own intensity in the short term might be affecting my life in the long term. Such intensity of study and work cuts me off from everything, It thus makes me anti-social to an extent and incredibly disorganized as I found out when I lost a final exam I was supposed to correct some errors on. Honi was known to be one of those sages who always lived intensely in the moment, and didn’t understand the long term, in turn alienating his colleagues to the point they wanted to excommunicate him. Tragically, it is in the long term Honi learns a very important and sadly permanent lesson:

He [Honi] returned home. He there enquired, “Is the son of Honi the Circle-Drawer still alive?” The people answered him, “His son is no more, but his grandson is still living.” Thereupon he said to them: “I am Honi the Circle-Drawer,” but no one would believe him. He then repaired to the Beth Hamidrash and there he overheard the scholars say, “The law is as clear to us as in the days of Honi the Circle-Drawer, for whenever he came to the Beth Hamidrash he would settle for the scholars any difficulty that they had.” Whereupon he called out, “I am he;” but the scholars would not believe him nor did they give him the honor due to him. This hurt him greatly and he prayed [for death] and he died. Raba said: Hence the saying, Either companionship or death.

Like Honi, without a continuing relationship, while our legacy may continue or even change from derision to great honor, we are forgotten. While the sabbatical is about the land resting, it is the seventh year and fiftieth year where we spend our entire year relating to everyone, and doing the repairs necessary to the relationships in our lives that we cannot do in a day. In eating produce we didn’t cultivate that year, we realize another relationship even more important: the one with God. Food we eat is made with us or without us. Cultivation may maximize yield, but life continues with us or without us. We do not want to forget God, nor God to forget us and thus should spend that year of Sabbatical connecting not just to each other but to God as well. It is very intentional that the Jubilee begins not on Rosh Hashanah but on Yom Kippur, when we ready to confess and ask for forgiveness. We ask for forgiveness not just for a year, but for a half century of ignoring things we didn’t see in the short term. Like Honi, our relationships have changed radically in the fifty-year period - and its time to seriously ask for forgiveness

I’m going to spend a rather intense few days getting ready for this reading. I can think that my third reading will go much smoother since I will know a lot more than I did before (or at least I hope so). Yet I also got cranky at people more than once this week, and had to cut short many a social event just to study. April through July was supposed to be for me a mini-sabbatical, a time to stop all my classes and try to relate to people more. That I volunteered for this also shows the temptation to go back to getting intense, one I’m sure the farmers of biblical Israel felt as well. But the sabbatical is for us to stop and look around our world and to seriously contemplate how we are to change ourselves to keep our relationships alive and well.

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Shlomos Drash - Parshat Emor 5766 Fear of Prayer Revisited

I have a bit of a cold and really don’t have enough brain power to write anything this week between sneezes and cold meds. However I wrote one of my favorite commentaries last year. So I’m re-printing that one. A lot if it has changed for the better since I moved synagogues, and I’ve found Beth Emet an even better home for me. And while there is a lot of good there, nothing has been better for me given what I wrote a year ago than the small prayer group I’ve found at Beth Emet, Kahal. All I can say to all of those at Kahal is thank you, a lot of this has changed because of you.

There are many halakah this week, many of then practices for the Priesthood, more practices for holidays, and a story about a guy who profanes the Lord. In the middle of this

Lev. 23:21-24. And whoever offers a sacrifice of peace offerings to the Lord to accomplish his vow, or a freewill offering in oxen or sheep, it shall be perfect to be accepted; there shall be no blemish in it. Blind, or broken, or maimed, or having a growth, or scurvy, or scabbed, you shall not offer these to the Lord, nor make an offering by fire of them upon the altar to the Lord. Either a bull or a lamb that has any thing superfluous or lacking in its parts, that may you offer for a freewill offering; but for a vow it shall not be accepted. You shall not offer to the Lord that which is bruised, or crushed, or broken, or cut; nor shall you make any offering of it in your land.

There is a story in the Talmud [Gittin 55b] about Bar Kamza's cow. Due to a mistake in party invitations, a man called bar Kamza was offended, and the rabbis didn’t stop the offense. To get even, he told the Romans that the party was actually a plot to revolt against the Romans. For the Romans to prove this, he suggested the Romans give gift of a sacrifice for the Temple. If the Romans' sacrifice was accepted, then the people of Jerusalem were loyal to Rome. If they were not, then they were hatching a plot and should be destroyed. Bar Kamza made a small defect in the sacrificial animal that while the Romans wouldn't detect it, the defect made the cow unfit for sacrifice. One stickler for rules rejects the sacrifice and in consequence Jerusalem and the temple are destroyed.

With the destruction of the Temple, sacrifice ended. The rabbis replaced it with the dining room table and prayer. But it is prayer which interests me this week. It is here that I have not just a little difficulty with the Torah, but a big one. With all the personal details that I've written before there is one thing I'm incredibly afraid and embarrassed to admit. However, I have the suspicion I'm not the only one.

I can't pray because I'm afraid of praying.

More accurately, I don't think of myself as praying, or having acceptable prayer towards God. My prayer ascends to heaven the very same way a brick does: not at all. In this weeks portion we are to learn that the offering to God must be perfect, without defects. And here I am unable to read the Hebrew prayer without flubbing every third word. I'll admit it's an improvement. Ten years ago I wouldn't have been able to do that since I couldn't read Hebrew. These words of our liturgy I cannot say perfectly, nor can I always have perfect intention, as my anxiety over my poor Hebrew reading skills overwhelms me. And somehow English doesn't work here; it's too much for me like giving a turtledove instead of an ox for sacrifice. That said I'm really good at faking it, I've been faking praying most of my life, though I feel like a fraud when I do.


I'm mentioning all of this because of a conversation a non-Jewish friend of mine and I had recently. She asked why I didn't go to a Conservative synagogue, since it would probably be a good place for me to meet potential partners. At the time I only had my usual excuses. I'd miss drumming during services, hate having to actually get dressed up for services, have a major league allergy to building funds, etc. I pretty much grew up Conservative, and learned early that services were boring. Thinking more on it, I realized I was never prepared to pray. My early education leading up to my bar mitzvah was inadequate to study Hebrew for prayer. The Conservative congregation of my youth did not care about teaching children Torah and prayer prayer as much as the miracle of the secular state Israel - so I never learned hebrew beyond the letter Chaf. The Orthodox training me for my bar mitzvah thought me treif and thus thought it was a waste of time to get me up to speed. I left Judaism because of my early experience, like many people going East to Taoism and Zen where prayer was the much easier meditation. I'm a Jew today due to the exuberant energy that Renewal brought to the picture. Without that I'd still be a Taoist. As I thought about that conversation I realized that was all true, but just the surface of the truth. My bigger problem is prayer, the liturgy. All of that is cover for what the real -problem is. I cant pray.

What I am calling prayer is the set liturgy of our ancestors. Although it has been modified and added to over the years there are many parts that are at least as old as the Talmud, and much is even older than that. The Shema is, of course, biblical. The Shmoneh Esra, or Amidah as some call it is rabbinic in origin. Psalms were sung from the earliest Temple times. Many people who could not get to Jerusalem had already substituted prayer for sacrifice. They would recite phrases parts of what would become the Amidah, when they could not do sacrifices. Later prayers were medieval Kabbalistic formulas, like L'cha Dodi. This over time and organized by rabbis over centuries became the prayerbook we know today, the one I can’t seem to pray from.

There is this feeling I still get when I go to Conservative and Orthodox Synagogues, that I think is related to our portion this week. If prayer has substituted for sacrifice, our prayer has to be perfect, without blemish. But I am still too much of a beginner at Hebrew to read carefully enough to read without blemish, at least without reading at a snails pace. From my early experiences, I get the impression that other congregants feel that if my prayer isn't perfect then I am not as righteous as they are - I am both an inferior person and inferior Jew. So I avoid public prayer whenever possible. Fastest way to make me disappear is mention the words "Birkat Hamazon" or "Shacarit." I probably stayed within the Renewal and Reform movements because I'm too embarrassed to pray like the Conservative or Orthodox. As I started to contemplate this last weekend, I scared my self so silly, I turned around at the door of services last Erev Shabbat.


I have a funny feeling I'm not the only one who has anxiety about this. If you happen to have a Artscroll Siddur, its interesting to look at the back of the book, where the "rules" of praying are located. The tax code is less complicated. Conservative Rabbi Alan Lew has a very poignant story in his Biography One God Clapping. Doing a joint Buddhist-Jewish service, many of the Buddhists there almost caused a riot when he started to say some prayers in Hebrew. Turns out they were all Jews who had converted to Buddhism, and they were offended by the use of Hebrew prayer, because it made them feel inferior.

During the weekend, feeling really guilty for skipping services, I thought about Bar Kamza's cow. The destruction of the temple came down to a choice of offering imperfection to God, against the mitzvot of Torah and save the Temple, or refuse to offer imperfection and lose the Temple. I can't help but feel we are in that situation today. Do we say an imperfect prayer or do we keep alienating people by having a culture measuring us by "perfect prayer?"

Written on the sanctuary wall at the reform synagogue BJBE in Glenview is an interesting statement: "When you pray, know before whom you stand."[B. Ber 28b] Its intent is clear, remember that in prayer we are standing before the King of Kings. There is to be a certain kind of respect not otherwise given to anything else. But I see two sides of that respect. One is that we do indeed pray with the deep intention and concentration. But there is the other part, like court politics of human kings, is this notion that some members of the court are more favored than others. They wear better clothes, they pray in Hebrew better, they have the best seats, and get all the honors. The others are somehow less.

The perfect, defect-free prayer has alienated me. It has made me feel less of a Jew, and has assured me that bricks and prayer have a lot in common. I would speculate it has even alienated Jews to the point they would rather find something else to do than davven. Jewish meditation at its core is a way to avoid the traditional prayer structure, particularly in Hebrew. Some don’t stop there. It is easier to connect with God in some other religion, with a much easier prayer structure, than davvnen.


And while that might be the way many, including myself see it, there are passages in Talmud which point to something else:

R. Yohanan said in the name of R. Simeon ben Yohai: Why was it instituted that the Amidah be spoken in a whisper? In order not to embarrass transgressors. For, note: Scripture does not provide one place on the altar for a burnt offering and another place for a sin offering.[B. Sot 32b.]
We are not supposed to be embarrassed in our ineptitude. A physical animal is very different than an action. While many defects are permanent in an animal, such as being blind, having a scar or missing limbs, actions are not. Actions can change, In tractate Yoma 29a, Prayer is compared to the antlers of a deer. The older the deer, the more majestic the antlers, so too with prayer: the more some one prays, the better their prayer. In short, Practice makes perfect. If we pray, even imperfectly, we do become better at prayer. We do not need to fear if it is inferior or if we are inferior. Nor do we need to fear the opinions of others concerning our prayers, the only opinion that matters is God, and in that realm we are all equal: Exodus Rabbah 21:5 give another analogy here. Human beings, it notes, will pay attention to rich men and ignore poor men.

But the Holy One, blessed be He, does not act thus. Before Him, all are equal--women, slaves, poor, and rich. You can see this for yourself: to designate prayer, Scripture uses the same word for Moses, master of all prophets, and for a poor man. With regard to Moses, Scripture says, "A prayer of Moses, the man of God" (Ps. 90:1), and of a poor man, it says, "A prayer of the poor man, when he faints, and pours out his complaint before the Lord" (Ps. 102:1). "Prayer" in the first instance and "prayer" in the second, so that you should know that at prayer all are equal before Him who is everywhere. [Exod. R. 21:5.]

Nor do we need to think our prayers are like bricks:

"There shall not be male nor female barren among you" (Deut. 7:14). R. Hanin ben Levi said: This means that your prayer will never prove barren--it will always rise and bear fruit [Deut. R. 3:6]

Jewish Prayer, particularly the recitation of the Amidah and Shema, is a very structured liturgy in a language many of us do not know, let alone understand. We are to do it in a way that is perfect because it is intended to be heard by something that is perfect. We do things in respect like we would to the leader of the universe. But the one to judge if our efforts are perfect or not is not another human being. Those that judge on those grounds, miss the point entirely. We cannot be judged for our righteousness in this world, but only in the world to come. I'm still afraid of praying in a Conservative or Orthodox synagogue, because I still feel that inferiority and still am rather intimidated. However, I can change that, because I've recognized that fear, and know how to conquer it. I can, like the deer grow more antlers over time. I can learn and grow through practice. I can begin to think of prayer differently. It is the dialogue between God and me, not the competitive squabble with congregants it has degraded into in many congregations.

There is a Hasidic story about prayer. A young boy who knew no prayers once went to Schul with his father. The father told the boy to remain quiet. Everyone was silent in prayer though the rabbi seemed to be a little concerned about something. The boy wanted to pray but not knowing how tried to remain still. After all of his young patience was exhausted, he took a whistle out of his pocket and let out one loud TWEEEEET!!! This annoyed everyone, but the rabbi beamed. He told the congregation that he saw the prayers were not ascending to heaven because the prayers had been said without passion. When the boy so passionately blew his whistle the prayers finally ascended. Many today take the whistle to be the better prayer than the route prayer of that minyan. That mere intention is enough. That may not be the real point, but instead both passion and the traditional prayer are necessary. Both take time to cultivate, but as long as we offer at least some of each, we move forward to the perfect prayer, the one without blemish.

My little phobia will go away someday. I'm trying to learn the prayers I didn’t learn before, learning each one at a time, and improving my Hebrew while I'm at it. I know some have given up on Hebrew, and just read the English or transliteration. If that is what they can offer with great intention, just like that boy with the whistle they made an effort to do the best they can, and that is holy. All prayer is holy because it is from us with effort, but we also need to remember something I said before. God judges the holiness of what we do, no human can tell us. No society can judge us in holiness. Remember the admonition of the rabbis concerning bar Kamza: "Note from this incident how serious a thing it is to put a man to shame, for God espoused the cause of Bar Kamza and destroyed His House and burnt His Temple." [Gittin 57a]

May we remember that as we all find our perfect prayer soon.

May 2005(5765)

Sunday, May 07, 2006

Website update - Prayerbook Hebrew

Just wanted to inform everybody that I have finally updated the prayerbook Hebrew Tutorial up to lesson 5. If you are interetested in self learning Hebrew you might want to try these lessons out. You can access it on my website at http://www.shlomosdrash.com/hebrew.html

More lessons are coming, and if there are any prayers you'd like to suggest me adding to the lessons, let me know at shlomosdrash@aol.com

Thursday, May 04, 2006

Shlomos Drash Acharei Mot 5766: Shlomo, Azazel and Lashon Hara

This week we’re given more commandments. First we have the procedure for the Yom Kippur sacrifice of atonement, then a chapter on the prohibitions concerning blood. Finally we end Acharei Mot with the incest and other sexual prohibitions as practiced by the inhabitants of the land of Canaan prior to the Arrival of the Israelites. Our second portion Kedoshim notes a large set of commandments covering many different moral and ethical issues, many from previous portions. The Midrash notes the entire Ten Commandments are interspersed within this section. Once again the incest laws are noted, and honoring the elderly, the stranger, and the disabled are noted. This section has in its beginning, middle and end an interesting statement, “You will be holy for I am holy” where the portion's name kedoshim comes from.

Usually, I’m writing about Leviticus 18 and the sexual prohibitions when I get to this portion. Yet this year I have hard time writing about that. I’m interested in something else - the scapegoat, mostly because I feel like one right now, and I need to vent. We read in Leviticus 16:7-10

7. And he shall take the two goats, and present them before the Lord at the door of the Tent of Meeting. 8. And Aaron shall cast lots upon the two goats; one lot for the Lord, and the other lot for Azazel. 9. And Aaron shall bring the goat upon which the Lord’s lot fell, and offer him for a sin offering. 10. But the goat, on which the lot fell to be for Azazel, shall be presented alive before the Lord, to make an atonement with him, and to let him go to Azazel into the wilderness.

In my current situation, I find this passage very parallel in meaning to another passage in our second portion:

You shall not steal, nor deal falsely, nor lie one to another. (Leviticus 19:11)

Also read on Yom Kippur, The mitzvah of the escaped goat, or scapegoat as it became to be known was that live goat that was left into the wilderness used to atone for sins. Azazel is often not translated but it is interesting to note some of the meanings. One is a mountainous rocky place. Another is to break it into two words, meaning the goat goes away. Or again, the phrase scapegoat.

For the last ten days of April, I was on a mountainous rocky place, which was incredibly awesome. I have never in my life seen rocks younger than me but here I hiked and drove over them frequently on my first days of a well-deserved vacation. I was in Hawaii starting on the Big Island and visiting lava flows which happened to cover the landscape decades after I was born. One was still creating new land - Due to the toxic gases, aerosolized volcanic fiberglass (known to the locals as Pele’s Hair) and possibility of cave-in of the lava crust I only got a mile away from the sight of hot lava spilling into the ocean, creating great plumes of steam. I saw waterfalls, jungles and grasslands. I saw the mongooses, who were introduced to the island as control for another imported pest, rats, only to leave the rats alone and be a major factor in the extinction of most of the native bird species instead. After several days exploring the Big Island, my mom and I flew to Honolulu for a few days of rest from our adventures. It was last Friday that got me as steamed as one of the volcanic vents I saw on Kilauea.

A few weeks earlier a reporter from the Chicago tribune e-mailed me about a story he was doing on Jewish outreach and wanted more information on Shabbosville. So I arranged a phone interview. Yet the conversation was rather different than I had expected. The reporter spent a lot of time on drumming, and my role as a drum circle leader, which I most decidedly am not, as I insisted that I had led only twice -- there were many people far more expert than me. I was asked about the song Shabbosville, and a little about the philosophy behind it. I was also asked about my current synagogue, a larger reform synagogue that has to some extent created internal Havurah to the larger organization -and these havurot have been successful for quite a long time.

Sitting in a Starbuck’s in a Honolulu duty-free Shopping mall with more signs and speech in Japanese than in English, I checked my e-mail - five time zones behind Chicago. And it was there I found that the article that this reporter had written had been published in the Metro section. While I can’t claim to speak for others interviewed, I was shocked how everything that was said in my name got printed in the most misleading way possible. I was repeatedly misquoted. I remembered back to the interview and how much I evaded answering the leading questions the way this reporter wanted me to.

Thinking about the whole content of the article, and how it was written, I noticed I got all the “crazy lines” the statements which were outrageous or discredited others. I got the lines that sounded like I was boasting. And thinking about it while on the plane home and preparing to write this week’s column, I felt like I was the scapegoat, the one who was so stupid looking that he made the main subject of the article legitimate. And it didn’t feel very good.

Today scapegoats are not used at Yom Kippur, but they are a major part of western society. I realize how often to make a 500-word article or 15-second sound bite reporters will use the concept of the scapegoat to make the very complex and interrelated world simple. I doubt it can ever be simple - the infinitely complex is the best witness to God’s creation in my view. Spending ten days in a microcosm of the interrelated nature of things while on vacation, affirmed that how complex things are, and how holy the network of relationships are. Only the Omniscient could ever make total sense of it all.

Yet we limited beings don’t like that kind of holiness. Were the kind of creation who is still stupid enough to have some of us believe that God is merely intelligent, not Omniscient. We love to believe there is always one person to blame for what really is a systemic mess. And thinking like either of those leads us not to solve the problems in the world, but just to make them worse. I saw land being made out of sea only a mile away from where I was standing - And I saw that over time, life forms will break down that desolate rock to create the grasslands of North West Hawaii and luscious jungles of the east coast and the underwater reefs surrounding the island. The cycle of life was not lost on the ancient religion of the Hawaiian Islands, it controlled everything that happened to the people, and that believed it was far bigger than they were. Wandering thought the biomes and ecosystems of Hawaii, I once again realized thing are too complex and too fragile for simple blame and simple solutions. Simply letting loose mongooses doesn’t get rid of rats -- and can do far worse damage.

In thinking of all this I cant help but believe any bit of news, when reported or printed is not truth but Lashon Hara, evil speech, the prohibition of Leviticus 19:11. The whole story cannot be told, yet we never believe that the commentators or reporters are just that people speaking their own personal opinion, but telling us what we should think should be the absolute truth then dictating who we should slander for the blame.

This certainly isn’t my best piece. I’m home now, still angry and still jet lagged. But I want to end this piece with a few short statements about the article and in General as I though about all this:


1. I am not a drum circle leader. I have led two drum circles due to circumstances, one the wishes of a dear friend for her birthday when no one else would start the thing up and one to give adults and children on a retreat a physical energy release after Havdalah.

2. Contrary to the article, Beth Emet has not banned drumming - one of those drumming leading experiences I’ve had was on retreat with Beth Emet. As I explained to the reporter, it would be in poor taste to be drumming on most Friday nights, but there have been times where at the Saturday morning Kahal service or on retreat it works and sometimes it doesn’t. Former cantor Jeff Klepper used to regularly drum at Kahal Saturday services. I’m all too aware some people like drumming and others don’t- I’ve led dialogue on the subject at Kahal. Personally, when it comes to percussion, I’m most often a fan of nothing louder than an egg shaker on Saturday mornings, though I’ll change that according to context.

3. I’ve said this one enough but it is worth repeating. My idea of Shabbosville is not as the mere party and margaritas but in the sensual experience of witnessing creation. The high is not alcohol, just perceiving how beautiful everything is in sight sounds smell touch and taste, and knowing this is God, and God’s works. I paraphrased Abraham Joshua Heschel to this reporter that Shabbat is an Island in Time, an island to pause and witness creation. Even a hardcore rationalist like Maimonides thought similarly, yet that apparently isn’t press worthy. We need to stop and rest in order to witness creation - and there is a joy, a delight an oneg when we do which is very similar to a good vacation.

4. I am a commentator; I do not give the absolute truth, but my part of a bigger dialogue with myself, with everyone else, with Torah, and with God. I can teach what others thought, or at least what I think they taught and I can give my own interpretations of Torah. But that is all. Even if I do ever get a column in print in some publication, I don’t ever want to be in the same class of people as this reporter, God forbid!

5. I don’t trust reporters any more. The system we have for the media, from reporters to editors to publishers and producers to the audience and the advertisers who pay for it all create a system that relishes in Lashon Hara. I learned my lesson; I’m not doing interviews again.

6. While the article seems to imply otherwise, I need to make it clear that I am a fully active member of Beth Emet. Each community has its own character and I fit best at Beth Emet, and hope to be as good a member there as I see in the many talented and brilliant people there.

7. Am I a little crazy to think all this? Do I deserve to be the scapegoat? I don’t know. Maybe we need some joyous unconventional thinking to solve some of the problems out there. That’s all I’m trying to do, though it is not the thing that is celebrated, but ridiculed. Is what I do that wrong?

I guess that’s all I have to say. Sorry for the vent today.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Shlomos Drash Tzaria-Metzora: A Woman Comes First

Moving from all the death of animals for food and death of offspring in industrial accidents of last week, this week we read the rest of the biblical public health code in a double portion. We start with the procedure for a mother after giving birth, we then move into the beginning of a rather long two portion discussion of the issue of what in that text is called tzarat and at a later time would be translated leprosy, both of people, clothes and of buildings. We end with the procedures for the disease Tzav, today regarded as an STD. Yet this time it is a rather odd little bit of Talmud related to the beginning of the parsha that caught my eye. We read this week:

1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, 2. Speak to the people of Israel, saying, If a woman conceives, and bears a male child; then she shall be unclean seven days; as in the days of her menstruation, shall she be unclean. 3. And in the eighth day the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised.

Circumcision of course was first commanded of Abraham back in Genesis, so there is not much new there. It is the phrase “if a woman conceives, and bears a male child” that is the interesting part. And the word for which our portion is named Tzaria which is the critical word the Rabbis of the Talmud play with to write a rather startling little passage found in Niddah 31a:

R. Isaac citing R. Ammi stated: If the woman emits her semen first she bears a male child; if the man emits his semen first she bears a female child; for it is said, If a woman emits semen and bears a man-child. (Leviticus 12:1)

In Hebrew, the root word for seed is Zayin-Resh-Ayin. Its meaning changes between agricultural seed and the word for semen. It can be a verb that could mean to emit or plant seed. In the human case that would be male ejaculation, and thus orgasm. Parallel to this, it means for women is for them to conceive. The Rabbis in our Talmud text, however, imply that the multiple meanings of the word means that both conception and the female emission of seed, orgasm, are the same thing. In short, through playing with the word tzaria and its usual meaning of conception when used concerning women, the Rabbis changed it to orgasm: If you want a boy, a woman comes first.

Word play was not a sufficient proof text for the rabbis however, as they continue on Niddah 31b.


Our Rabbis taught: At first it used to be said that ‘if the woman emits her semen first she will bear a male, and if the man emits his semen first she will bear a female’, but the Sages did not explain the reason, until R. Zadok came and explained it: These are the sons of Leah, whom she bore unto Jacob in Paddan-aram, with his daughter Dinah, (Gen 46:15) Scripture thus ascribes the males to the females and the females to the males.

Unsatisfied with the lack of a strong proof text, R. Zadok teaches that Genesis 46:15 is the proof text. Genesis 46:8-14 gives the names of Leah’s sons and grandchildren ascribing them to Leah. Yet in Genesis 15 it ascribes Dinah, Leah’s only daughter, not to Leah but to Jacob. This Zadok concludes, is the proof text that if a man ejaculates first he has a daughter, and if a woman does he has a son.


R. Zadok’s proof text has quite an implication, however. With twelve sons and one daughter, Jacob was quite the lover, able to satisfy not just one, but four women. We know from Genesis 26:8-9, Jacob’s parents Isaac and Rebecca both had an active sex life, with either a streak of exhibitionism in it, or such desire they forgot to close the window shades occasionally. In the episode where Abimelech finds Isaac and Rebecca together, it is interesting to note that it is not sex they are caught doing but Isaac is fondling and exciting Rebecca. Though the word for fondling might be also translated they were merely joking around, it is clear by context they were making out. They were not caught in the act of intercourse, but in foreplay.

Foreplay gets a big underlined comment from Rashi. Rashi interprets another passage in B. Shabbat where R. Hisda cryptically instructs his daughters on what to do with their husbands, adding to Hisda’s comments:

When your husband caresses you to arouse your desire for intercourse and holds the breasts with one hand and “that place’ [that is the vagina] with the other give the breasts [at first] to increase his passion and do not give him the place of intercourse too soon until his passion increases and he is in pain with desire (Rashi on b. Shabbat 140b “he had a pearl in his hand”)

Rashi probably was indirectly instructing his male students what to do with their wives in this passage. Others, such as the authors of the medieval German Piest work Sefer Hasidim quoted the Talmud passage about making a woman emit seed first almost verbatim. Another medieval work, the Iggeret ha Kodesh goes even further. Most noted for its passage in chapter two which refutes Maimonides that sex is bad, it is by far no mere sex manual. Instead based on Niddah 31a, the Talmudic discussion of onah, and the cryptic comments of R. Hisda in Shabbat 140b, the whole book is how to have the perfect and holy intention that when one has sex so that a father does not have just a boy, but the child ends up a Torah scholar.


Yet that is not the only meaning of the Iggeret ha Kodesh. It is one of the early works of the circle of Moses de Leon, the group of mystics we call today the early Kabbalists. To the Kabbalists, this has meaning about the way to excite holy energies which are enumerated by gender. One had to excite the female energies before the male ones in order to provide the proper holy union. And one had to be careful how one did that, for there were two types of female energies, good and bad. Thus all this sexual talk, for the Kabbalists, was not about this world, but the world above. Yet the Kabbalists also maintained that what happened in this world affected the world above, thus the sexual union of man and wife effected the unifications of these energies in the heavens.

I wonder when all these sages engaged in sex with their wives, how much they care about their wife and how much did they care about Torah? Did one eclipse the other? I believe that the rabbis of the Talmud, as holy as they were, also were enormously practical people. They saw that there were two issues about sex and both were vitally important. The first and foremost was procreation. The second, was the psychological and sexual well being of a husband and wife. Without the sexual well being of a wife, who had no legal way to express her sexuality, she would turn to illegal and immoral promiscuous acts. A healthy and frequent dose of satisfying sex with her husband was required to keep women from straying and committing adultery. Adultery, in turn makes procreation and inheritance a more complex issue. Yet between a husband and wife, it could not be mindless procreation either, otherwise there would be no sexual satisfaction, and the need to turn to adultery or other promiscuous acts would be there. So the Rabbis I believe combined the two in our odd little passage about making sure women orgasm first. In their misogynistic world, men wanted a boy as both an heir and as the person they could teach Torah to; girls could have neither. In order to get what the husband wanted in sex, he had to give the wife more than just sperm.

Much had changed in the last two millennia. The status of women, their role in modern inheritance, and their ability to learn Torah, and for many movements even the ability to become a rabbi and Torah scholar have all changed. What the majority of modern Jews would consider immoral from the Talmudic Rabbis standpoint is different as well. Most of course do not believe in such superstitions. Yet there is still that odd little desire to determine the gender of one’s children. There are some people, both Jews and non Jews, who go to certain extents to determine the gender of their children, including exploiting supposed differences in behavior of X and Y chromosome sperm. I had originally thought to write about that issue, but instead I keep thinking about something else: Sexual satisfaction, and the very odd thought for a guy that women need sexual satisfaction.

And what I mean by odd is that through the self-protecting behavior of women, our entire social ritual of dating, and a commercial system which requires us not to fulfill those needs in order to buy consumer goods to replace or try to fulfill them, men generally are clueless of what a woman really wants. Indeed as men are generally the ones in the relationship who repeatedly had to be rejected, many men, including myself, end up intimidated into initiating anything. A whole subculture has arisen of pick up artists, men who have spent most of their lives totally intimidated by women, in reaction, subverting the system and objectifying women to fulfill their own immediate sexual needs. Their fascinating, and rather disturbing subculture was chronicled in Neil Strauss book The Game. Yet, I think it is this little passage in B. Niddah which puts all the sex manuals and pick up books into perspective. From the biblical stories of Eve, Rebecca and the rest, it becomes clear that sexual satisfaction for women is always an issue, that mere intercourse was never enough, but as Rashi makes clear desire increases for both through the loving use of all the body, through foreplay. Women really do want this with the right guy.

For a guy who is still afraid to ask for a phone number, or ask a woman out for a cup of coffee, because he is certain it will end in rejection, this is a surprising and encouraging message.



For more about the mitzvah of onah, and female sexual satisfaction, see my commentary for Parshat Mishpatim 5766

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Shlomos Drash Shimini 5766 - Clean or Contaminated?

This week, we have three major parts of our portion; we continue the sacrifices started in last week’s portion. It is the eighth day of sacrifices, and everything goes so well God performs a wonder and fire from the Lord devours the sacrifices. But things then turn tragic. As the text states: (Lev. 10:3).

Then the sons of Aaron, Nadab and Abihu each took his censer and put in it fire. They put on it incense, then brought near strange fire before the Lord which he did not command them. Fire then came out before the Lord and consumed them so they died before the Lord. Moses said to Aaron: this is what the Lord said as follows: In my drawing near I will sanctify and over the face of all the people, I will honor. And Aaron was silent.

The rest of the Leviticus 10 then gives the aftermath of this tragedy and a prohibiton aginst priests making sacrifices while intoxicated. We end with the laws of prohibited and permitted animals for eating, the basis of the kosher laws.

I had a classmate in my Biblical Hebrew class for a while who worked for a government regulatory agency. As part of the training sessions he gave those he regulated, he would regularly start his session with the story of Nadab and Abihu, calling it “the first recorded industrial accident.” As I’ve commented on this portion a few years ago, Nadab and Abihu might have been heroes. One of the safeguards, the incense had been forgotten in these sacrifices, and they rushed to replace it before it was too late, though sacrificing their lives by coming up with a homebrew solution.

As a regulator of sorts myself, though usually internal to a company, I’ve run into homebrew solutions more than once, and I’m usually not happy with them. As a food safety inspector, one of the issues that comes up frequently is the issue of whether equipment is commercially approved or not. I’ve more than once run across a restaurant who had bought a home toaster or refrigerator. I’ve also watched as that toaster from some discount store has changed color once a week as they break in succession, or in one case seen the smoked and brunt wall when one caught on fire. I’ve seen those cheap dormitory refrigerators used for milk and coffee condiments in restaurants frost up so badly that there is no room for a pint container, let alone the temperature inside the unit is the same as outside the unit. Homebrew might work in a pinch, but it never does the job completely.

Very often, it’s the stuff we can’t see that is the problem, such as bacteria and viruses which are hiding, or have the potential to hide in a home brew solution. We know Nadab and Abihu used the wrong king of fire to light their censers. Interestingly, this small story punctuates a major change in the content of the book of Leviticus. For the next few parshiot, we change in topic from procedures for conducting a sacrifice to a comprehensive public health policy, all based on one concept and word which continually shows up in these passages: tamei. While many translations have a meaning of unclean I usually translate as contaminated. In food safety, we are concerned with three types of contaminants: biological agents like bacteria, chemical agents like rat poison, and physical objects such as glass. And while there a many parallels in Leviticus 10 through 15 to one of these three, I tend to talk of tamei as a fourth type of contamination, spiritual contamination.

One of the many issues I lecture on to public Health Departments is this issue of spiritual contamination. In many faith-based food facilities there may be sources of contamination that the inspector doesn’t know about or doesn’t care about, yet those who eat the food may be upset about. These sources may be of important concern to the people making the food or people eating the food. Islamic Halal, Kosher, and Hindu Vegetarianism fall into this category. In each of these cases, the theology changes. Therefore, how and where one finds this spiritual contamination changes greatly. For Hindus for example, one reason for vegetarianism is the issue of transmigration of the soul, that one might be eating one’s long deceased grandma. Yet from 16th century mystical thought on transmigration, the kosher prepared fish and meat for Shabbat, when eaten, moves the Jewish soul trapped in the animal to a higher level than a cow or fish. In short, what is or is not contaminated spiritually is completely determinate on belief. So an unaware health inspector who walks in the door and stats poking kosher or Halal beef with his thermometer he’s used on pulled pork is going to get himself in trouble with a lot of people.

In this light, it is interesting to note the prohibitions of Leviticus 11, which defines inherently spiritually contaminated species. We are allowed to eat land animals which have both split hooves and chews its cud. We are allowed seafood which has both fins and scales only. We are prohibited many species of birds, which by interpretation permits only chicken, domestic duck, and goose. No insects rodents or other creepy crawlies please. Animals must be alive healthy and intact at the time of slaughter. I don’t, like others assign rhyme or reason to these, nor do I substantiate my own diet to these biblical prohibitions outside of the literal reading of the text. AS far as I’m concerned they are Huquim, mitzvot without human reasons, though there are parallels to healthy eating. Maimonides was the first to claim that Kosher was healthy eating, and pig was very bad for you but living in a Islamic world, nobody except the occasional Christian ate pig, which allowed Maimonides to declare “everybody know this.” I do follow this list of prohibited and permitted species, not because it is healthy eating, but as many of Maimonides critics pointed out, but because it makes me more Jewish. I know some like to force their political or personal “homebrew” viewpoint of diet on others be they liberal or conservative saying “the bible says so.” I’m always uncomfortable with that. From Glatt to Vegan, what ones decides to eat I believe is a personal choice. Only two people it needs to substantiated with: God and oneself. Anything else is egotism: validating one’s own point of view by forcing another to observe it. It is why I rarely state my own dietary observances to anyone, which while more observant than most, are far from completely observant. It’s between me and God. Only those who might prepare food for me and respect what I believe have some idea. And their reactions are ones of understanding and compassion. Some might warn me to stay way from some dishes, others might make something special for me, and others might just not take offense if I refuse to eat something. At a gathering like the Passover Seder, there are many such issues, and each must be addressed with sensitivity and compassion. At my family seders, where ther are several such issues, it usually is, but all too often I see otherwise.

The death of Nadab and Abihu may have been an industrial accident where unapproved sources of fire were used for a procedure, and that source carried a form of contamination which killed them. Yet spiritual contamination may also be the way we determine what is holy and what is not, or in short what defines us as Jews. The number of stories about what happened with Nadab and Abihu are a beginning of a debate which continues today. What is clean and wholesome, what isn’t, and whose definition do we use?

I still have no idea for anyone but myself.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Shlomos Drash - Passover 5766 the Fifth Child

Passover 5766 - The Fifth Son

This week we begin the celebration of Passover with our Passover Seders. One of the earlier parts of the Seder is the story of the four sons, one wise, one wicked, one simple and one who does not know how to ask. Last year, while researching the issues in writing the Haggadah, I could not figure out the history or the halakah of this passage being included in the Seder. All I could find was the passage in Maimoindes’ Mishnah Torah noting we should say it. As to where it came from, I had no idea.

But in the year that followed, I took Rabbinic Hebrew, and learned much not just about the nuances of the language, but about other texts I had never heard of before. Among these were some midrashic texts that were relatively unknown to those of us who only know English. Indeed they are so unknown they are not even considered “standard” midrashic texts and hard to find even in Hebrew collections. Our standard and primary midrash, easily found in English, is Midrash Rabbah, which is commentary to the texts of the torah and the Megillot. Yet there are others, some of which concentrate on legal commentary instead of story, as does midrash Rabbah. Two of these, the Mekhilta of Rabbi Ishmael, and P’sikta Zutra, indeed have the passage of the four sons. In my research this year I also learn how to access and read these books, and thus learned more about the four sons.

The first occurrences are in these midrash, written during the time of the rabbis of the mishnah, making the passage almost 1900 years old. It does find it’s way into early liturgy, including the close to 1000 year old Mazhor Vitry one of the oldest records of liturgy of early Ashkenaz in Germany and France, contemporary with Rashi among others. While there is not a complete translation yet of this work, the author of the recently released novel Rashi’s Daughters is currently translating this medieval prayer book and guide to living a Jewish life. The four sons is also included a few hundred years later in Maimonides works, indicating this was not only a tradition among the Ashkenaz but even the Sephardic Jews as well.

In all of these there have been mere cosmetic changes or additions in the text of the four sons for close to two thousand years. Within the last forty, there have been changes, from very different sources. From those concerned with gender inclusion, there has been movement to change “sons” in translation to the more gender neutral “child” which, in the case of Hebrew is a valid translation. Yet the bigger change has been the inclusion of a fifth child.

I first became aware of a fifth child in the mid 1980’s, when My mom brought home an article from a Jewish magazine that had a piece to include in Seders called The Fifth Son. Written by Irving Greenberg (and can be found in Appendix B of his book The Jewish Way) it was a piece intended to be read before Elijah was let in. However, in our family we always placed it in the position of a fifth child.

This fifth child was the victim of the holocaust, who did not survive to ask the question. The piece quotes another part of the Haggadah which records a debate about why we mention Passover at night we celebrate Passover, taken from B. Brachot 12b

The exodus from Egypt is to be mentioned [in the Shema’] at night-time. Said R. Eleazar b. Azariah: behold I am about seventy years old, and I have never been worthy to [find a reason] why the exodus from Egypt should be mentioned at nighttime until ben Zoma expounded it: for it says: that you may remember the day when you came out of the land of Egypt all the days of your life. [had the text said,] ‘the days of thy life’ it would have meant [only] the days; but ‘all the days of thy life’ includes the nights as well.

The night of the Haggadah and Talmud becomes the Night of Elie Wiesel in this piece, the darkest times of our existence. We must celebrate both in the good times and bad, Greenberg argues, to honor the memory of the victims of the holocaust.

Another kind of fifth child came from an entirely different source, that of the late Lubabvitcher Rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneersohn. As early as 1957 he mentioned the fifth son of the Passover Seder, the one who refused to be there. He noted that all the children, even the wicked son, showed up at the table with very different views and ideas and learning styles Yet more and more often there were those who just weren’t there. In the 1960’s he laid the blame squarely on the shoulders of the civil religion of Judaism, the Jewish Federation and their brand of secular Judaism. But his concern was not to scorn the fifth children, but to do what was necessary to bring back those children to the Seder table and religious observance, before everyone was a fifth child.

I came across Reb Schneersohn’s writings on the subject many years ago when I was researching my own meditation on the four sons. Given the words of total scorn and rejection that my family’s Haggadah had against the son who asked the question “What does this service mean to you?” Every Passover, I always felt I didn’t belong at the table nor did I deserve to leave Egypt had I been there, given the questions I did ask of our religion. Yet, the Rebbe’s words were in many ways soothing that indeed I did belong there. Since Sinai, we all did.

While Habad theology and my own are very different, this idea has stuck with me all this time, along with the silence Greenberg’s Shoah piece had. Last year while doing a re-edit of the Haggadah my family uses, I combined the pieces together into one piece about the fifth child, replacing the many inserts we had been using at this point. While the child who does not know how to ask is there but silent, a silence of presence, the fifth child is a silence of absence and all the more quiet.

As I wrote this, I got an interesting e-mail from the Chicago tribune asking fro an interview. After arraigning a time for a phone conversation, the reporter asked me some questions about outreach, spirituality, drum circles and the song Shabbosville. When the reporter asked whether I felt “Spiritual” while involved with a drum circle or in other situations, I noticed something I hadn’t before. All of my answers to this spiritual question were the same. Spiritual for me is about connection, about divine connection, but even stronger, about connection within a community. The community is the connection to the divine connection. When I drum in a drum circle, or get into a discussion group, there is something special that happens within that group. For me any kind of spiritual is about that connection. As our tradition notes in many ways spirituality is something that is to be done in a group. Whether it is the requirement of a minyan for Kaddish, or the statement in the Perkei Avot that three who speak words of Torah at a table dine at the table of Ha-Kadosh Baruch Hu, we are told over and over again community is holy. We can remember the story of the five Sages of Bnei Brak who got into the Seder’s spirituality so much through discussion, they lost track of time.

So when we sit down to our Passover Seders, we one again meet in community. My family’s Seder has over time turned into community event, with many who would not otherwise at the table for a religious observance attending and helping us tell the story of the exodus from Egypt. The table is community, and community is what really is spiritual. And it is in that light that makes the fifth child so much more tragic. Not only are there the silence of those who died in the Shoah, and those who endanger Jewish religious continuity, but those who do not live in the divine connection of community, even for one or two nights a year. We left Egypt not as individuals, but as a holy community.

As the Seder is community, let us remember to appreciate that at our own Seders and pray and work towards making sure all can feel the spirituality of such a communal meal.

Have wonderful Seders and a very happy Passover
.

Friday, April 07, 2006

Shlomos Drash Tzav 5766 - Treif?

This week covers more procedures for the sacrifice in the Mishkan, and then the record of those first sacrifices. Like many of these chapters about the sacrificial procedure, it is seemingly irrelevant to things today: indeed it was seemingly irrelevant to the world of even the Rabbis who didn’t have a temple either.

But yet, there are some things which stand the test of time. This week we read:

19. And the meat that touches any unclean thing shall not be eaten; it shall be burned with fire; and as for the meat, all who are clean shall eat of it. 20. But the soul who eats of the meat of the sacrifice of peace offerings, that belongs to the Lord, having his uncleanness upon him, that soul shall be cut off from his people. 21. Moreover the soul who shall touch any unclean thing, as the uncleanness of man, or any unclean beast, or any abominable unclean thing, and eat of the meat of the sacrifice of peace offerings, which belongs to the Lord, that soul shall be cut off from his people. 22. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying,23. Speak to the people of Israel, saying, You shall eat no kind of fat, of ox, or of sheep, or of goat. 24. And the fat of the beast that dies of itself, and the fat of that which is torn by beasts, may be used in any other use; but you shall in no wise eat of it. (Leviticus 7:19-24)


While the context of the passage above applies to the temple service, it was not hard to extend it to all eating, as other passages elsewhere give details of this prohibition. If meat comes into contact with impure things it is not to be eaten. If a person is clean, that they didn’t touch impure things, such as an infection on a human, or a pig, they may eat it. The fat of the animal was not to be eaten. Other forms of unclean included where an animal dies on its own or is torn by another animal the food animal is not clean enough to eat. But one can use that fat for other purposes, say axle grease.

The word for impure is tamei. And while the word unclean is a common translation, I tend as a public health person to call it contaminated. While tamei often parallels contamination from biological, chemical and physical sources, it really is another type of contamination: spiritual contamination. In some way which is not completely explained, certain acts render a person contaminated, and in a way that such contamination can transfer between a contaminated object and a person or a person and the food they consume. I actually use the translation of spiritual contamination when talking to public health officials about faith based eating practices and how they conduct food inspections of faith based facilities. While what the actual contaminant is, and why we shouldn’t eat it change by faith, whether I’m dealing with the Islamic Hallal/Haram food codes, Kashrut, Hindu vegetarianism, or certain prohibitions among Christian sects, all can understand someone’s reluctance in terms of a contaminating agent.

But through an evolution of things, and based on our passage, when Jews talk about spiritually impure foods that is not the word we use. Instead we use the term treifa. Treifa actually means torn, and really applies to one case of tamei, that of one animal tearing up another animal. But we can see in that case it means the meat is unclean and prohibited from being eaten. While our passage in Leviticus 7:24 refers to the fat of a treifa animal, Exodus 22:30 mentions the flesh and Leviticus 22:8 prohibits eating any part of the animal. By rabbinic times it referred not only to kosher animals that were torn by beasts, but animals that were torn by anything. This is a big reason why hunting is not a common Jewish recreation. From a standpoint of kosher, no one could eat any animal damaged from traps, arrows or bullets. But as treifa became one of the common standards to determine the suitability of an animal, it began to be used for any animal which was unfit for kosher slaughter, thus including such things as “downer” animals that were too ill to be slaughtered or could not walk. From there, instead of referring to just the status of meat, it began to be used for any other food that was not considered kosher, essentially replacing tamei. In the Yiddish vernacular glatt, which really meant the organs in a kosher animal had no tumors, eventually meant strictly kosher and its opposite was Treif, not kosher.

But the term treif did not end with just food, but often is now used to talk about anything not kosher. I find it interesting that the term has become a derogatory term often used by ultra orthodox to talk about other Jews not following the same observances as themselves. Having it waged against myself, and having some close relatives who once had to endure it on a daily basis, it has bothered me that a term meant to describe a specific status of a food product is used for lashon hara. In one poetic sense I can see the point. Something holy is rendered unholy by the attack of a belligerent third party. The holy Jew, is torn by the secular world, and thus becomes non observant. But the imagery falls apart when we realize that any such attack is non voluntary. The cow does not go out to meet the wolf to be torn; the Deer does not choose to remain still while the bear mauls him. In this understanding, Treif is not derogatory, but tragic -- the treifa animal is a victim, not a volunteer. I doubt anyone would have the chutzpa to call a holocaust survivor treif, but in many ways, they are victims of wild aggression, bearing the tears and scars.

And thus I notice a total reversal in the term Treif. Used as lashon hara, it renders not the non-observant but the observant unacceptable for involvement in the sacred. While the live and healthy cow or goat might be, under proper circumstances, considered kosher, holy enough for consumption, the wolf and bear, the wild beast, never is. To use such a term, to fall to such a level of hate is to render an attacker completely unholy as the wild beast, is to admit one is a wild beast and never was a holy creature. As I have seen in my own experience, those who are attacked verbally about their lack of observance tend to not repent due to such attacks, but turn away even more. They will not just turn away themselves, but will turn their descendants away as well, never having a Jewish home for their children. Such Lashon Hara is not just a sin, but it also kills the Jewish people.

As is all too often the case, Lashon Hara does not benefit anyone. So let’s not use it, Shall we?