The Highest Form of Flattery

Never mind.
Anonymous commenter is right. This post was a petty rant and not even worthy of a personal blog.

New Article and Loose Ends

I have an article on aggadah up on JID:

A former student, Jordan Hirsch, reviews two books on imperialist gamesmanship in WWI-era Middle East, that tell a still-relevant cautionary tale about Western assumptions regarding Arab revolutions.

The new, improved Talmud blog is up and running. Good luck, Shai & co.


MK Amslaem's speech in Modiin was disappointing. His novelty is not that he's saying anything new, but that he's saying new things while wearing a black hat. I was hoping that perhaps he wasn't just another politician, but he's just another politician.

I spoke with R. Lichtenstein about the Half-Shabbos phenomenon, specifically about whether texting on Shabbat should be a de-orayta. He said that's a question for the Tzomet people, but that it's clear that it's a terrible violation of Shabbat, as it runs the risk of turning Shabbat into just another day of the week.

I've had some lively debates today about R. Zilberstein's approving that a girl cut herself to force her parents to let her wear a skirt. My take is that while the rabbi desrves the criticism he's getting, there's been no talk about the parents. You're talking about the secular parents of a girl, presumably in her late teens, who is enrolled in a Haredi kiruv seminary. Whatever the reason for this girl's dramatic lifestyle change - sincere conviction, a form of rebellion, evidence of mental health issues, or whatnot - why on earth would her parents drive her to self-mutilation by insisting that she dress a certain way? A person can pick or choose a rabbi; a parent is not chosen, and therefore parents have a much greater potential to really screw a kid up than any rabbi ever could.

High Holiday Tune Selection FAIL

All of the davening was nice. All of the ba’alei tefilla for the main tefilot (Shacharit and Mussaf on RH; everything, except maybe mincha, on YK) knew nusach and had nice voices. Nobody was too quick or too shleppy. Which is good. So why did I get the feeling that it wasn’t anything special this year?

I think it has to do with the tune selection of pretty much every shali’ach tzibbur – and I’ll include myself in this. I’m aware that tune selection is a tricky business. The tune must capture the mood of the particular piyut in question (i.e., no U-netaneh Tokef to the tune of “Puff the Magic Dragon,” to use an actual example from my childhood). The tune must be familiar to the crowd, or at least be familiar to enough of the crowd that you’re not singing solo and simple enough for others to pick it up quickly. And I think that the ba’alei tefilla all nailed these down pretty well, even if some got a little cutesy or gimmicky (like Ve-khol Ma’aminim TTTO “Anachnu Ma’aminim Benei Ma’aminim”).

The problem was this: too many of the tunes used were tunes from throughout the year. There were a bunch of Shabbat zemirot tunes (the Gerrer Kol Mekadesh, the Carlebach Kah Ribon, the standard Friday night and Shabbat afternoon tunes for Yedid Nefesh, and others). It was Carlebach heavy, but with Carlebach tunes that are completely ubiquitous – “Ata Takum,” “Niggun Neshama,” and the like. And I think that every slow song ever written by Abie Rottenberg made an appearance at some point during the High Holidays.

I’ll grant that many of these tunes actually were set to parts of the liturgy – Ko Amar  and Ha-bein Yakir Li being the obvious examples. I was also happy that “Adam Ha-Rishon’s Niggun” made several appearances (I used it for “Atiti Le-chonenakh”) over the course of the High Holidays.

These are all wonderful tunes, but by and large too few of them were Yamim Nora’im tunes. I understand that YK fell out on Shabbat this year – so commemorate that by using one standard Shabbat tune. Or use a Shabbat tune that is not sung every. single. week. There are at least three well-known tunes for Yedid Nefesh that are not standard (the one from Aish is my favorite – and I used it for Mimkomecha at Shacharit on RH). Use one of them (I see that my neighbor, the Nusach Freak, has the same gripe).

There’s a reason that these days are called the Days of Awe. The liturgy – and that includes the tunes – should inspire intense feelings of love, awe, and majesty. Using special tunes, that the congregation associates specifically with the Yamim Nora’im – like we all do with Chamol, for example – is the only way to do that.

One other gripe – don’t hybridize tunes for kaddish titkabel, something I heard a few times this holiday season. I enjoy the standard tune, what the NF calls the “victory kaddish.” I also happen to love the Modzhitzer titkabel, which I use. But don’t start with Modzhitz and switch to the victory tune for yehei shelama rabbah. You’re simply not doing justice to either.

I enjoy a mix of popular tunes (of the Carlebach and D’veykus variety), Chassidishe melodies (few and far between in our milieu, unfortunately), and “standard” Yamim Nora’im tunes from America, Israel, and even from particular yeshivot. And I’m not rigid about it like some people are. But when the tunes used are rather pedestrian, then the entire davening feels pedestrian, uninspiring, blah. In short, the davening wasn’t anything special because it wasn’t anything special.

A Terrible Irony of Lag Ba-Omer

On the eve of Shabbat before sunset [R. Shimon b. Yochai and his son, R. Eliezer] saw an old man holding two bundles of myrtle and running at twilight. What are these for?' they asked him. 'They are in honor of Shabbat,' he replied. 'But one should suffice you'? — One is for 'Zachor (Commemorate)' and one for 'Shamor (Observe).' Said he to his son, 'See how precious the commandments are to Israel.' Thereupon their minds were put at ease. (Shabbat 33b- see here and here)

The incredible irony, of course, is the massive amount of Chillul Shabbat that will take place this weekend as people get their bonfires started in the middle of the afternoon. I once was ambivalent about this kind of expression of Israeli culture - on one hand, some observances are incredibly widespread, and on the other, they tend to have the cultural currency of a Christmas tree. Simply stated, we Jews are the goyim in Israel, and national holidays are watered down (and occasionally secularized) versions of the original religious holiday (except when the opposite is true, such as on Yom Ha-Atzma'ut, which is a whole other ball of wax). I truly believe that Mordechai Kaplan would see the modern State of Israel as the embodiment of his dreams. Whatever tolerance I have for these phenomena goes out the window when the Chillul is caused by a recently invented holiday like Lag Ba-Omer. It should be pushed off the same way that Yom Ha-Atzma'ut is pushed off to avoid Chillul Shabbat. I tend to think that Rashbi, whose mind was eased by Jews observing Shabbat, would prefer it that way.

The Problem of Charisma

So that I'm not accused of piling on, read what I wrote 3.5 years ago about monolithic and monologic charismatic strains of Judaism in general, and about an experience that I had when interviewing at a particular organization. The organization that I interviewed with in March 2006 was Mibreishit, and the rabbi whose portrait, placed at intervals of every few feet, wierded me out was the recently disgraced Motti Elon.

I don't know what Rav Elon did, if anything. I trust the signatories of the letter (a very diverse and extremely well respected group of mainstream Religious Zionist leaders, including Rav Lichtenstein and Rav Ariel). I do not know if Rav Elon is a criminal, a sinner, or none of the above.

I do know that Rav Elon is extremely charismatic, and I do not trust charismatic rabbis. Not a single one. Moreover, I believe that God does not like charismatic teaching, and that this is His critique of Eliyahu ha-Navi in Melachim I:19 - the path to God does not lie in earthquake, wind, and fire, but in the still, small voice. And the path to God never, ever, leads through an individual human being. Long time readers of this blog know that this is a theme that I have often returned to. (for example, see here, here, here, and here, among other places).

An excellent (but somewhat different in that it relates specifically to the high school milieu) articulation of this mistrust appears in a recently published book by Paul Shaviv called The Jewish High School: A Complete Management Guide; Leadership, Policy and Operations for Principals, Administrators and Lay Leaders. He has a section entitled "The Charismatic Teacher" that he actually posted in a comment over at Hirhurim about 4 years ago. It is in the public domain (here), but I'll reproduce the relevant sections here anyway. [Update: as the author notes in the comments, the print version of the text differs from the version below. He has posted the entire passage, as it appears in the book, here]:

The charismatic teacher (the ‘Pied-Piper’) is one of the most difficult situations for a Principal to deal with. A charismatic teacher will deeply affect and influence some students, but will almost always leave a trail of emotional wreckage in is/her wake .

Charismatic teachers are often themselves deeply immature, but their immaturity is emotional, not intellectual, and it is not always obvious. They can be brilliant in inspiring students to go beyond their wildest expectations, and are often regarded (by their following of students, by parents, and by the Board or the community) as the ‘most important’ or ‘best’ members of staff. There is always, however, a price to be paid. One of the effects of charisma is to convince the recipient that he or she is the centre of the charismatic personality’s concern. A teenage student (or a particular class) may feel as though he or she is the protégé of the charismatic teacher. The moment they realize that they are not (sometimes when the teacher ‘moves on to the next’), deep emotions come into play. In the same way, many charismatic teachers will lavish attention on a student or group of students as long as the student(s) do things the teacher’s way, or accept every piece of advice or ‘philosophy’ or Torah uncritically. The moment the student shows independence or objectivity, they are dropped. As soon as they are disillusioned or dropped, they are written out of the teacher’s story. Often such students, very hurt, leave the school. Mild characteristics of cult leaders may be observed. 

Other parents, however, will rave about how their son/daughter ‘adores’ Mr./Ms/ or Rabbi X, and is learning ‘so much from them’. Events linked to that teacher will be showcase events, and in certain cases the Principal (or Head of Department) will come to be dependent on the teacher. ‘We need something special for the prize-giving...or the ground-breaking … or the community event… can you put something together?’ The teacher will protest that the time is short, and it’s impossible, but will, of course, accept and do a fabulous job. 

The problem is that at core, these are not educational relationships. The emotional dependency and entanglement between teacher and student leads to boundaries being crossed. The teacher throws open his/her house to the students. Teens idolize the teacher, and fantasies begin to develop. The charismatic teacher will solve the teen’s angst and will sympathize with their intimate family problems. The teacher becomes party to knowledge about students and their families that reinforces the teacher’s view that they are the only teachers who ‘really’ are reaching the students. The teacher, however, is neither a trained counselor nor a social worker. That knowledge becomes power. A really charismatic teacher can end up running a ‘school within a school’. 

In the classroom, the teacher will often employ techniques (and texts) which take students to the extremes of emotion or logic, and will then triumphantly show them how they are holding they key to resolution (‘At this moment, you have agreed that life has no meaning -- but here is the answer’). 

Buy the book if you want to read more. And thanks, AB, for this link.

Things I DON'T Miss About America

In this week's parsha, the Israelites complained about the things that they missed about Egypt, like fish and watermelon. I sort of satirized this 2 years ago (here), and, fortunately, most people actually got the joke.

Then, about a year ago, I created the "Bounty of Spain" meme to discuss products that olim import from abroad.

Every once in a while, though, you come across something American in Israel that you wish had just stayed put. Tonight, I saw an ad for some concert featuring "Israel's Justin Timberlake". That's what I mean. We don't need our own Justin Timberlake. We don't even need yours. Can I come up with a list of 5 American imports that we can do without here? Let's try:

1) Annoying pop music. There's good music in America, but it somehow doesn't find its way onto the Israeli radio stations.
2) Survivor. I just don't understand what all the fuss is about, and Israelis are crazy into 'Hisardut'. I've never actually watched the show for more than 5 minutes and by accident, but I do think that the "Survivor" scene on Curb your Enthusiasm is one of the all-time greatest bits of comedy:

3) Curse words. Somehow, several American profanities have worked their way into the Israeli vocabulary, even appearing in advertisements. In general, I'm not a fan of the street English that Israelis seem to absorb so that they can act all 'American'.
4) RC cola.
5) Basketball. I happen to like basketball a lot. I just don't like the way Israelis play. It would have been better had it stayed an American sport

Flour Ground After Pesach

This is the first year that I've heard of this chumra of not eating flour that was ground before Pesach and sold. Presumably, this chumra only applies in Israel, where the vast majority of flour stocked in stores and warehouses is owned by Jews. The ostensible reason for this chumra is a concern that a) the flour came into contact with water and became chametz, and b) the sale of chametz to a non-Jew is not a truly valid sale.

The reason that this is not a concern is:
1) Chametz that was owned by a Jew during Pesach (Chametz she-avar alav ha-Pesach) is forbidden by rabbinic injunction (mi-drabanan). Since there is no certainty that the flour ever came into contact with water and, indeed, it is likely that it never did, the issue becomes, at the very worst, a 'safek de-rabanan' (doubt in a case of rabbinic injunction), which the halakha treats leniently.
2) Since flour is generally sold along with the chametz, and was not owned by a Jew on Pesach, there is no reason to be machmir. Even those who do not personally sell their chametz because they find the sale to be dubious do not consider chametz that was sold to be "chametz she-avar alav ha-Pesach". This is because there is a long-standing tradition, upheld by major halakhic decisors, of selling chametz to a non-Jew. The rabbinic injunction against "chametz she-avar alav ha-pesach" would not apply in cases where the alleged "owner" of the chametz relied on an accepted mechanism for obviating that ownership. I.e., even though Person A might not accept this mechanism, he need not - and should not - consider Person B to have violated the laws governing chametz ownership on Pesach by availing himself or herself of that mechanism.
Please note that each of these 2 reasons operate independently and is sufficient to undermine the practice of insisting on flour that was ground after Pesach.
[Here's a question that may be relevant, and I simply do not know the answer: do we employ bittul be-shishim with regard to chametz she-avar alav ha-Pesach? If we do, then there's another reason not to be concerned].
My final reason is sociological: this chumra is almost impossible to apply consistently. There is no way that the chametz products that hit the shelves after Pesach were not sold. One would have to wait several weeks before consuming chametz products if one were to take this chumra to its logical conclusion. If would apply all year to chametz products - beer and liquor come to mind - that have a longer shelf-life. You may as well stop going to shalom zachars.

This chumra definitely goes into the "close to apikorsus" and "idiotic" file. See here.

An Extremely Rare Mitzvah

I'm not talking about birkat ha-chama. That's so done. I'm talking about a mitzva that is even more rare. Most of us will never get a chance to do this mitzva. Thus, when it is done, it is done with great fanfare. Furthermore, Erev Pesach is an extremely appropriate time to talk about this mitzvah.
If beglittered donkeys look strange to you, and this whole ceremony seems just a tad contrived and awkward, they you are beginning to understand how I feel about this whole birkat ha-chama thing [clarification: I will say the bracha, much as I would redeem the firstborn donkey of any flock I should own. In fact, the latter is a mitzva de-orayta].
I've added some captions. Feel free to suggest your own.






Donkey whispers to sheep: "Sorry pal. Better your neck than mine."

Mechubad im bracha acharita...






The guest of honor poses with an ass:
I've heard of chassidishe shechita, but never chassidishe arifa...
Snoop Donkky Donkk.

Flattered but Outraged

They say that plagiarism is the highest form of flattery. I understand, but it still seems outrageous when it happens. There’s also the issue of “meivi davar be-shem omro” (link is to an old but good post).

I mention it because a few weeks ago I was forwarded an email promoting “Adam Ha-Rishon’s Segulah for Parnassah”. It seemed very familiar to me, and that is because I wrote it. This mixed emotion of pride (however perverse) and outrage is new to me.

Earlier today, in shul, I was speaking with someone who mentioned that another fellow had hung this segulah for parnassah in his sukkah. I asked if it was “Adam Ha-Rishon’s Segulah”, and sure enough it was, and had been forwarded to him from a friend in the States. Apperently this has been making the rounds, so I felt compelled to put it out there again – please attribute it when forwarding it around!

Anyhow, the fellow I had been schmoozing with about it in shul put it into a good perspective for me. He (Dr. Ari [Arthur] Schaffer) penned an article in 1982 entitled The Agricultural and Ecological Symbolism of the Four Species of Sukkot (timely, no?). He mentioned that he had heard his main thesis repeated in a number of contexts and by a number of people. He took immense pride in the dissemination of the idea, even if it remained unattributed. I guess I should aspire to that attitude, but I really can’t say I do. I take pride in my chiddushim, whether they are good or not, and whether they are edifying or not (in this instance, I believe that a strong case can be made that my lampoon constitutes ‘leitzanuta de-Avoda Zara’ and is thus edifying).

So if you get this in a email, reply to the sender with a link to the original post and bring a bit of ge’ulah into the world. And to the reader who lifted it and sent it out without attribution – please try to remedy the situation.

Modiin Kid Told to Keep Tefillin Out of Public School

Link to the Ynet article

The depth of ignorance in the Jewish State is sometimes astounding. Regarding this issue, there was actually a debate in an email forum in Modiin, with some people defending the school. I'm sorry to sound so insensitive to those ostensibly well-meaning parents who fear that their children will become prey to religious coercion because a couple of classmates think its cool to wear religious symbols for a few minutes every day, but I really have no patience for this.
Are these parents that insecure? After all, it's a free world out there, and all kinds of people will be out there hawking all kinds of things in life - drugs, sex, and, yes, religion. If they're afraid that their impressionable little teenager will go over to the Dark Side because a buddy likes strapping on leather boxes, I'd hate to consider how neurotic they become when the kids goes out on weekends. Seriously, can we get a grip? Do we really think that kids being kids - and different kids are into different things - is "proselytizing" or "coercion"?
One parent compared this kid bringing his tefillin to religious or traditional kids insisting that class birthday parties not be held on Shabbat. It's a poor comparison. Here, the bephylacteried youth is not expecting or demanding that anyone else live up to his standard. Rather, the school shutting this kid down would be more akin to a parent who made a birthday party on Shabbat and then complained that when a Shabbat observant kid failed to turn up, that he "ruined" the birthday party.
I also find it laughable that a school can ban a kid from offering to share his tefillin with a classmate in the name of being against coercion. I'm usually pretty good about seeing both sides of an issue, but this is cut-and-dried. A kid can bring his tefillin to school and offer to share it with his friends. He can do the same with his sunflower seeds, his stamp collection, of whatever else is legal to possess.
By my libertarian sensibilities, a kid should also be allowed to sport a crucifix or be entitled to bust out the prayer rug 5 times a day if he or she so desires, but I don't want to go there for fear of shattering to many people's narrow conceptions of what people from which sectors ought to believe.
Now, if the kid were wearing a Yankee cap, it would be a whole different ball of wax...
May this year be one of clearheadedness and sanity in the City of the Future.

Shul Rags: Part II

Continued from here.

The second amusing (but in many ways highly disturbing) element of the parsha sheet that I picked up this week involves an “Ask the Rabbi” column dedicated to social and intimacy (a poor translation of the untranslatable Hebrew word “zugiut”) issues. The respondent is a rabbi and Rosh Yeshiva in a community in Northern Samaria. I no longer have the text in front of me, as it is probably now where it belongs, but I will attempt to reproduce the question and answer faithfully.

The questioner posed the following dilemma. He is 26 years old and has been going out for a while. He dates girls and wants to continue, but they have no interest in him. He finds himself considering dating girls who he considers ‘compromise candidates’ – girls who wear pants and who will not full cover their hair. Is it OK to date these girls?

Before getting to that rabbi’s answer, here’s what I would answer:

“Dear X, before answering your question directly, I would recommend that you ask yourself – perhaps with the aid of a professional life coach – why your relationships are not working out. Women who wear bandanas and parachute pants are just as sensitive to matters of personality, habits, and hygiene as the ones in flowing skirts and tightly bonneted kerchiefs. You have indicated that you would have liked to continue relationships with some of them, but that they did not wish to do so with you. Unless you can provide a good explanation as to why you think that girls who you believe adhere to a lesser standard would be more likely to continue a relationship with you, I believe that you are inappropriately dealing with your problem by projecting it outward, rather than inward.

“As to the issue itself, I would call your attention to the fact that there are a number of gedolim whose wives did not cover their hair, or who did so in a manner that you or I might be uncomfortable with. This does not necessarily mean that these sages approved of such behavior. Rather, they understood that there are issues far more important upon which to base a relationship and a marriage. You should not be asking yourself questions about her halakhic standards, many of which are her own business, but about her qualities and character as a spouse, parent, and matriarch of a Torah-oriented household.”

The rabbinic author of the column begins by quoting the Gemara in Sanherdrin and the halakhic codes which determine that “It is a mitzvah to compromise”. He then distinguishes between interpersonal monetary matters, where this halakha applies, and matters of personal principles, where it remains forbidden to compromise.

He then goes on to argue that if this alter bachur would indeed compromise and marry the girl whose standards he deems unacceptable, she would forever feel second-rate and forever know that his dream girl is someone else. This would strain the relationship right from the get-go.

The rabbi then sidesteps what should be the obvious question: since nobody’s perfect, isn’t everybody, essentially, a compromise? Wouldn’t the same logic apply to someone who compromises on, say, looks? So the guy who wants to marry a supermodel shouldn’t settle for anything but a supermodel?

The rabbi gets around this by positing a distinction between “compromising” (hitpashrut) and “sobering up” (hitpakhechut). When it comes to principled issues like hair covering and pants, agreeing to less would be “compromising”, and is thus verboten. However, when it comes to looks, a guy can “sober up” and realize that the important thing is that she’s beautiful to him.

Bible Thumping

Several groups, spearheaded by the Yad L’Achim counter-missionary group, are trying to disqualify an 11th grade girl from the International Bible Quiz (Chidon TaNaCh) because, though Jewish by birth, she belongs to a Messianic congregation (link, link).

I really don’t see the issue. Let a Christian or Moslem or Buddhist or whomever win. Besides, this sets a dangerous precedent; next year they might decide to disqualify Chabadniks.

I guess if I ran a counter-missionary organization I’d want to make a stink about it also. After all, alarmism is a great fundraiser. When you’ve got a hammer, the whole world becomes your nail. Yes, indeed. They will have you believe that millions of impressionable Jewish kids who have nothing better to do with a day off than watch an event with all the drama of a spelling bee (OK, I admit. I cried like a baby at the end of Akeelah) will be amazed at this (probably very nerdy, if experience is a good indicator) girl’s mastery of the Jewish Bible (she’d clean up the New Testament competition) and suddenly develop an interest in Christianity.

For me, the most disturbing element is that the quiz is only open to Jews in the first place. Is that just to get Jewish Agency funding? I don’t get it. Let ‘em all join. I think it’s impressive that this girl knows TaNach so well – I’ve met missionary Messianic Jews (or so they claimed) and they didn’t know much Bible beyond Isaiah 53 and Jeremiah 31:31 (in fact, I once replied to a missionary who asked me – while I was working on building the College Park eruv – whether I was familiar with Jer 31:31 by saying, “Yes. Are you familiar with 31:30 or 31:32?”. Needless to say, he was not). So let her compete. What are we really so afraid of, for chrissake?

Milk and Agnosticism

Wolf links to a page on Chabad's 'Ask Moses' website in which they write that:

"Drinking unsupervised milk causes agnosticism. The milk may in fact be 100% from a kosher animal, but if no Jewish person was present to watch the milking, it has the effect of casting doubts in our core beliefs."

I have written here before that I hold like the poskim who say that 'chalav stam' in most countries IS, in fact, cholov yisrael. However, since making aliyah, I have been consuming, by default, pretty much exclusively cholov yisrael in the sense that most people use it. It has not improved my faith.

My father recently returned from a trip to the U.S. with a serious haul of milk chocolate. Earlier today, I had my first Hershey's Peanut Butter Kiss.

It was absolutely divine.

Benno Jacob

A recent review of a new edition of Benno Jacob's commentary on Bereishit has spawned a bit of discussion on the Lookjed educators' forum. The review, written by Zvi Grumet, describes the author's contribution and the new edition quite well. The respondent criticized the fact that the reviewer failed to mention that Jacob was a Reform rabbi. Grumet defended himself by writing "It is not my practice to highlight ideological/party affiliations unless it is apparent that they impacted on the content. I was not able to detect any such impact on his commentary, and therefore omitted mentioning it." He added that he used the title 'Rabbi' when referring to Jacob because "He earned that title in his own institution, and functioned in that role. And I, for one, will not add fuel to the fires of mutual deligitimation."

I think the figure as well as the discussion about his place in frum learning institutions are both fascinating. I tend to agree with both - I think that it's important, if only in the interests of 'full disclosure' to give Jacob's ideological orientation in an introductory discussion of him. Same is true of the Rambam. The idea that ideology does not impact the content of the writing strikes me as very naive. Furthermore, it might be beneficial for a frum kid to learn that Reform rabbi actually took Torah study seriously, especially given the general attitude toward heterodox rabbis in frum communities. No doubt, to deny the title 'Rabbi' is quite insulting. Rav Moshe's compromise (distinguishing in his writings between 'rabbis' and 'rabbonim') shows that it is possible to maintain differences while according respect.

This discussion is actually pertinent to something I witnessed about 4 years ago. At the time, I was a high-school and adult educator in an 'out-of-town' community in the U.S. There was another educator in town, in fact, in the same shul, who is still there, and has been there for a very long time. Apparently he got smicha from somewhere, but there's no denying the fact that the man is a true am ha-aretz. For example, he once tried to convince me that the Rambam wrote the Moreh Nevuchim in Ladino; what do you do with that? Where do you begin?

He's a very charismatic teacher (which is not, in my universe, a compliment; indeed, he's not much of a teacher. It's semi-coherent haskafic rants - and that's his Gemara shiur. Guess that's what you gotta do when you don't actually know how to learn Gemara) and has attracted a bunch of groupies around himself, stunting their growth and playing with their small little minds. It's scary.

Anyhow, one Shabbos afternoon, he spoke in shul during shaleshudis. He said over a d'var Torah on the parsha, in which he quoted 'the Ramban in the name of the B'no Yaakov'. I was baffled. I knew it had to be a mistake (I didn't think of Benno Jacob because I had never heard him called 'Benno Yaakov' before, though that's his name in Modern Hebrew). Turns out, the rabbi of the shul had the same thought. We both had seen the erstwhile darshan reading the Hebrew version of Nechama Leibowitz's studies on the parsha (his Hebrew is better than his English), so we both figured we'd find the answer to our confusion there. We thought that perhaps the Ramban had a son named Yaakov who he quotes from time to time, but wanted to see 'inside' who the Ramban actually quotes. Turns out, Nechama quotes Ramban and THEN quotes a slightly different idea from Benno Jacob. The rabbi and I had a good laugh at the thought that this fairly farfrumt teacher unwittingly quoted a Reform rabbi, and had him quoted by the Ramban, no less. The irony of a frum rabbi who is an am ha-aretz quoting a Reform rabbi and Torah scholar is a real stereotype-buster, and pretty funny, too.

Why I Wouldn't Vote for Hillary

As the 2008 presidential campaign heats up, I'd like to stick in my two cents (by the way, I think that Americans can weigh in on Israeli politics, too; I'm not one of those 'If you don't live here, you can't have an opinion' folks).

I'd like to see McCain become president. Giuliani would be my second choice. Amongst the Democratic candidates, I prefer Barack over the others. Don't press me for why; some candidates I just don't like, and others I just like. I guess I look for people who are 'real', and not just talking heads.

And then there's love-her-or-hate-her Hillary. I'm no fan of Bill, but one thing that Hillary said during her senatorial campaign which just totally summed up why I can't stomach her. She was asked whether she's a Yankee fan or a Met fan.

Before getting to her answer, some background: I hate the Yankees. I'm from Baltimore. My wife's from Boston. Before we decided which teams we'd encourage the kids to root for, we agreed that they'd be Yankee haters. Nevertheless, I can understand and respect that a New Yorker would be a Yankee fan (a non-New Yorker Yankee fan is a tail-rider, AFAIC). I have more respect for Met fans, because they choose to stick with a team that's the local underdog.

Back to Hillary's answer: "I like them both". No. You're not allowed to say that. You can't like them both. Clearly, she felt that she didn't want to alienate the fans of one team by saying she supports the other. See, but that's the point. She's a phony. She said what she thought would be politically expedient, not what she believes. I'm not so fickle a person that I wouldn't vote for Giuliani because he roots for a team I hate. He has his preference, and he doesn't try to hide it. He wears his Yankee cap everywhere and attends games. Had Hillary said "Gee, y'know, I really don't follow baseball much", I'd have understood and respected that. Not everyone's a baseball fan. But she didn't say that. She tried to please them all by, for lack of a better term, lying. I understand that politicians often must do this, but when it's so pervasive that it even extends to fundamentally trivial matters, it becomes abhorrent.

Local Rabbinic Politics

By an accident of fate, the municipality of Modiin-Maccabim-Reut will be dropping one of its Chief Rabbis. There are currently 3: the Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi of Modiin, the Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Modiin, and the Chief Rabbi of Maccabim-Reut, who also happens to be Sephardi. A conscientious citizen, affiliated with the anti-religious Shinui party, filed a grievance with the Supreme Court  about 4 years ago, which the court upheld. The contention was that there is no need for three rabbis once the municipality of Modiin was expanded to include Maccabim and Reut. I actually partially (33.3%, to be exact) agree with this decision, but that's an old issue.

Thus, it was decided that the city will drop one of its two Sephardic chiefs. In truth, I have sympathy one of the two. The rabbi of M-R has held that position for upwards of 20 years and is, by reputation, much more in line with the sensibilities of the city's Dati Leumi community, which makes up almost the entirety of its religious community.

Yet, I cannot - and will not - ignore the fact that of these three rabbis, one is the son-in-law of R' Ovadiah Yosef, one is a brother-in-law of former minister and Shas Party chief Aryeh Deri, and the third is the son of former Ashkenazic Chief Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau.

[I have deleted the line which draws attention away from the main thrust of the post, and which, in hindsight, is inappropriate and gratuitous].

Thus, I could not give a rat's furry tuchus who wins this fight. Hopefully, the winner will have merely won a Pyrrhic victory.

The Idiot Coefficient

The story described in the last post reminded me of an idea I came up with a while ago called the 'idiot coefficient'. The idea is that when one takes what one knows, and divides it by what one thinks one knows, one gets a ratio, a fraction of the number 1. The smaller the number, the bigger the idiot.

There are thus many, many highly intelligent and accomplished people out there who are complete and total idiots.

The Four Species of Shabbat Guest

There’s a well known Midrash which compares the four species that we take on Sukkot with four personality types. There are 2 variables – Torah and good deeds – which yield 4 possible combinations.

Having been in Israel for over a year now and having frequent Shabbat guests of the year-in-Israel type, and more precisely of the ‘seminary girl’ type, we can say with certitude that the same four categories apply to Shabbat guests. Sometimes, the guests are very engaging and participate in discussion and Divrei Torah at the Shabbat table. Sometimes, they are very helpful with set-up, clean-up, and taking care of the kids. Sometimes they are both. Sometimes they are neither.

We don’t really like having aravot for Shabbat. Any of the other three are fine.

A Poor Example of Educational Storytelling

Someone recently quoted to me, in the context of a discussion of Hilkhot Shemittah, a story that apparently appears in one of the ‘Magid’ series by Rabbi Paysach Krohn. The story pertains to the rule that one is not allowed to feed a non-Jew produce which contains kedushat shevi’it. Although this rule seems to be in direct contravention to Vayikra 25:6, Our Sages have limited the scope of this passage to a case where the non-Jew is a long-term member of the Jew’s household (See Rambam, Laws of Shemittah and Yovel 5:13).

So this story begins with a husband returning home to find that his wife had given two kedushat sheviit fruits to the goyishe help for her ride home. Acting quickly, the husband tracked the Gentiless down on the bus after an apparently difficult chase. When she saw him, she immediately confessed and opened her bag, revealing the jewelry she had just stolen from the family.

I must admit, I found this story offensive. I believe that stories are the primary manner in which values are communicated (in fact, it’s an assumption which underlies a lot of what I write on this blog: some examples can be found here, here, here, and here), and that the values reflected in this story are problematic.

The central problem I find is in the All-for-the-Boss-esque reward of zeal with miracles. Miracle stories are problematic in general, and this problem is compounded when the miracle is a reward for behavior which is supererogatory at best, negative at worst. The prohibition against giving a non-Jew fruits with kedushat Shevi’it is based on the fact that one must treat these sanctified fruits with proper respect, and giving them to a non-Jew is disrespectful. The story’s ‘hero’ is justifiably concerned with the fact that this non-Jew would violate the sanctity of the produce, but at what expense? Public embarrassment of the Gentile? Embarrassing his wife? Furthermore, it seems clear from Tosefta Sheviit 5:20 that once the produce is in the possession of the non-Jew, there is no need to take it back (the Tosefta discusses, and permits, a similar scenario in the case of an animal, which is generally more stringent than a human when it comes to consumption of foods which have kedushat Shevi’it; I’m not ready to outright permit such a case, but there is certainly reason to pause and especially if there is counter-pressure).

I’m also not thrilled with way the story portrays the wife (as a half-wit) and the Gentiless (as a thief). I think it’s poor values-education.

I’d have been much happier with the following ending (leaving aside the man’s treatment of his wife or her apparent ignorance): the man quickly rushes to the local makolet (a word for which there’s no real English equivalent, unless you count bodega) and buys soda, chips, and cookies. He then hops into a taxi to chase down this gentile woman. Upon reaching her, he apologizes profusely that he actually can’t give her those fruits (without explaining the halakhic rationale) and offers her the bag of food instead.

That way, he can actually fulfill the Biblical mandate of shemitta in spirit as well as in the letter, for there is no doubt that the Torah, through the mitzvah of shemittah, wishes to instill concern about the plight of the wage-earner.

And if the story truly happened the way that Rabbi Krohn tells it, then just don’t tell that story in an educational setting. Better edifying fiction.

I Remember the Ice Cream…

I remember that our freezer in the States nearly always had ice cream in it. I’d go to the supermarket, and buy a half-gallon of whatever was on sale, generally never more than $3.50, but usually more like $2.50 for premium-brand ice cream. Here, I pay 17 NIS for the Israeli version of Neapolitan – mocha, vanilla, and pistachio. Or maybe a pint of Ben & Jerry’s at 26 NIS (or on sale at 2 for 40 NIS) for a very special treat (like a holiday we celebrate by eating dairy products, for example).

I remember the tubs of generic brand peanut butter that we would buy in the States for next to nothing. Here, it’s the oily, grainy Israeli stuff or an exorbitant price for a small jar of an American premium brand.

I remember buying half gallons of apple juice for $1.50 at most, often cheaper, whereas in Israel you can get a liter on sail for 4 NIS. The best you can do on soda here is just under 4 NIS for 1.5 liters, and never Coke, whereas in the States Coke or Pepsi products – and a wide variety of them at that – could almost always be found for under $1, often even less, and you didn’t need to buy 6 in order to get the deal (often it was LIMIT 6).

I remember drinking orange juice like it was water. $2 for a half-gallon of not-from-concentrate, delicious OJ. Here, good orange juice is like fine wine. We get it ‘lichvod Shabbat’, and it’s like $5 for a half-gallon. Usually it’s good, but sometimes it can be sour, depending on the season.

I remember the variety of good, cheap, non-perishable foods – the ketchups and mustards, coffees and hot chocolates, and artificial sweeteners – that are simply unavailable or exorbitant in Israel.

I remember buying meat at the supermarket that was as red and fresh as it could be, and that was cheap enough that it was not a luxury item.

I remember the fish which we would eat in the States for free, and the cucumbers, and the melons, and the leeks, and the onions, and the garlic.

Oh, yeah. My bad. That last one was Egypt.