Standardizing Orthodoxy

Rabbi Josh Yuter has a good post on the Orthodox Rabbinical Council of America's recent agreement with the Israeli Rabbinate on the standardization of the conversion process. The backstory is that the Israeli Rabbinate has been refusing to recognize conversions performed by North American Orthodox rabbis with whom they are unfamiliar. As a result, converts who believed their credentials to be impeccable have been unable to marry in Israel or to move to Israel under the Law of Return.

As Yuter notes, easing these tensions with the Israeli rabbinate has the potential to make the lives of many converts a great deal less onerous. Standardization may have its own benefits as well. Judaism is known for discouraging potential converts in order to make sure that those who do convert are genuinely comitted. This policy has some merit, but all too often it becomes an excuse for what can only be described as hazing, as religious courts attempt to prove their rigor by making the lives of conversion candidates as difficult as possible. People I know who have persued Orthodox conversions have been dragged through a lengthy procedure during which they had little sense of the court's requirements or how much progress they were making toward fulfilling them. This is a particular hardship for young singles, since potential converts are not allowed to date or have romantic relationships. Standardization of the conversion procedure could eliminate some of the ambiguities that make the process so difficult for converts as well as alleviating regional courts' perceived need to compete with each other over the rigor of their conversions.

On the other hand, standardization in the Orthodox world usually means capitulation to the right. Those who call themselves Orthodox Jews — and Orthodox rabbis — espouse a wide range of beliefs and practices. The RCA, however, is now claiming the right not only to determine the criteria for conversion but to decide which rabbis are worthy performing conversions. In addition, children who convert are required to attend an Orthodox day school through 12th grade, and the RCA reserves the right to decide which day schools are "serious" enough to qualify. Yuter observes, "as the religious and political dynamics of the RCA/BDA [Bet Din of America] changes, the regional Batei Din [religious courts] will be forced to adapt or lose their authorization." More distressingly, so will the converts.

All in all, I'm troubled. But of course, I have no say in this matter. We'll see what happens.

Latest Battle in the Kitniyot War

Last year, I posted about a New York Times article that discussed, among other things, the recent trend of non-Orthodox rabbis permitting the consumption of kitniyot (legumes, etc.) on Passover. This year, Gil student discusses a similar ruling (for Israelis) by an Orthodox rabbi. Rabbi Student objects to the ruling because ignores the precedent set by Ashkenazim in Israel over the past two centuries. This objection seems reasonable to me. I only wish that more Jews would consider precedent before introducing new chumrot (stringencies) as well.*

*DH reports no new news on the quinoa front this year.

(Cross-Posted to the Kosher Blog)

Liturgy for Yom Ha-Atzmaut

Since the establishment of the state of Israel, religious Jews of Zionist persuasion have struggled to create a liturgy for Yom Ha-Atzmaut (Israeli Independence Day). The most widely observed religious custom for Yom Ha-Atzmaut is the recitation of Hallel, based on the Talmudic injunction that Hallel be recited when the Jewish people is delivered from distress (Pesahim 116a). To add anything more, however, entails finding a traditional paradigm suitable for a modern holiday, and there is little agreement as to the appropriate paradigm.

One early model, suggested by Yom Tov Lewinski, was for Yom Ha-Atzmaut to be observed in a manner similar to that of the festivals mandated by the Torah (Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot), with the lighting of candles, cessation from labor, recitation of kiddush, and the insertion of ya'aleh veyavo into the amidah prayer and the blessing after meals.* It was not to be, however; Orthodox Jews were reluctant to give a modern holiday the status of the ones in the Torah, and the national celebrations that eventually developed in Israel were incompatable with the traditional festival restrictions. Another model is based specifically on Passover, and includes readings from a haggadah retelling the story of the modern-day redemption. A number of haggadot have been composed for Yom Ha-Atzmaut, but none has gained widespread acceptance, perhaps in part because the atmosphere on Yom Ha-Atzmaut in Israel is so incompatible with a family seder.

Some of the liturgies currently used for Yom Ha-Atzmaut are not based on any particular paradigm, but these can seem a bit random and therefore lacking in force. The Israeli rabbinate, for example, authorized the recitation of certain psalms and the reading of a selection from the Prophets, but not from the Torah. A service that I heard in college consisted of an odd hodgepodge of texts taken from sources as diverse as kabbalat shabbat (the Friday evening service) and Naomi Shemer (a modern Israeli songwriter). The Reform movement has its own service for Yom Ha-Atzmaut, comprised mainly of original compositions -- fine for people who like that sort of thing, but again, I think it lacks force.

It seems to me** that the most reasonable liturgical paradigm for Yom Ha-Atzmaut is that of Chanukkah and Purim. Since these holidays comemorate events that occurred after the composition of the Torah,*** they don't have the status of the major festivals (which means fewer religious restrictions), but they do have their own liturgies including readings from the Torah and Prophets, and they are accomanied by a generally festive mood. The main liturgical innovation for Chanukkah and Purim was the al ha-nissim prayer, which thanks God for delivering our ancestors from their enemies. Versions of al ha-nissim for Yom Ha-Atzmaut have been composed for the religious kibbutz movement, the Conservative movement, the Masorti movement, and the Israeli Reform movement. (Yehonatan Chipman has a number of the texts with insightful comments. Avraham Hein adds the version from the Conservative Siddur Sim Shalom.) Communities that recite al ha-nissim generally also have a Torah reading (Deuteronomy 7:12-8:18 or 30:1-10) and a Haftarah (Isaiah 10:32-12:6).

Certain problems inevitably arise when a preexisting paradigm is applied to a new situation. The various versions of al ha-nissim, for example, all use the language of the al ha-nissim for Chanukkah, which describes a battle in which the "wicked" are delivered into the hands of the "righteous." (The Reform version substitutes "members of your covenant" for "righteous," which is a bit better. The Sim Shalom version uses "guilty" and "innocent" in its "translation," but the Hebrew is the same as in the others.) Now, there is no doubt in my mind that the Israeli War of Independence was a just war, but that doesn't necessarily mean that all the aggressors were "wicked," and it certainly doesn't mean that all the victors were "righteous." The Torah readings open with the same implication of Jewish righteousness, and one of them (Deut. 7:12-8:18) becomes more problematic as it proceeds: "You shall destroy the peoples that the Adonai your God delivers to you, showing them no mercy . . . You shall cast the images of their gods into the fire" (Deut. 7:16, 25). The choice of Haftarah, meanwhile, seems to have been motivated by the view that the establishment of the state was the beginning of the messianic era, which I find troubling on a number of levels. (Admittedly, the Haftarah doesn't have to be read in that sense in this context, but it would not have been my first choice.)

In spite of all this, I am not inclined to diverge from the existing liturgies. Chanukkah and Purim were controversial in their times precisely because they were new, but they eventually gained the acceptance of the Jewish community as a whole. I don't know what it would take to achieve the same degree of acceptance for Yom Ha-Atzmaut as a religious holiday, but some semblance of a standard liturgy couldn't hurt.

*Rabbi Irving Greenberg, Living the Holidays (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1988), p. 388. Greenberg references Lewinski's Sefer Hamoadim, vol. 8, Y'mai Moed V'Zikaron (Tel Aviv: Dvir, 1956), p. 486.
**Yehonatan Chipman agrees.
***Whether Purim actually comemorates an "event that occurred" is not really relevant here; clearly, those who composed the Purim liturgy believed that it did.

Pshat, Drash, and the Conservative Movement

DH has started a discussion about Tamar Rossman-Benjamin's article on the Conservative Etz Hayim chumash. The article is lucid, intelligent, and generally well-informed* -- worthwhile reading for anyone interested in Orthodox and Conservative approaches to biblical exegesis and Jewish law. Rossman-Benjamin calls attention to some serious hurdles faced by Conservative exegetes and theologians, which deserve to be addressed in an open forum.

For my own part, I generally like the Etz Hayim, despite its many shortcomings. One must bear in mind that it is not meant to be a mission statement for the Conservative movement, a theological treatise, or a guidebook for living a halakhic life. As a synagogue chumash, its purpose to help laypeople understand the biblical text and to introduce them to modern biblical scholarship, traditional Jewish exegesis, and some of the connections between the Torah and modern Jewish life. On those terms, I think that the commentary is largely successful.

Rossman-Benjamin's major criticism of the Etz Hayim -- and, by extension, the Conservative movement -- is that it presents the Torah as a human, rather than divine, creation while still insisting that Jews accept its authority. Her criticism is reasonable insofar as simultaneous acceptance of historical criticism and rabbinic halakhah leads to practical and theoretical problems that have yet to be satisfactorily resolved by the movement's leading thinkers. However, the strict dichotomy between "human" and "divine" is false. In my opinion, failing to acknowledge the possibility of a middle ground between these two perspectives on the Torah's origin presents a greater threat to the future of Judasim than openness to the conclusions of modern scholarship.

This article by Rabbi Gordan Tucker puts it nicely:

[I]magine that you are picking up a new book, one, say, with no title on the cover, so that you begin to learn about the book only upon opening it. You first read a preface. It says the following: "The volume before you is the result of relentless investigative reporting, and though its claims may at times seem incredible, they are all thoroughly documented." So you read on, and are fascinated, perhaps even shocked, to learn facts that you never knew. It changes your life and the way in which you look at things, and you eagerly pass it on to others so that they may know these facts as well. Then one day you discover that the book that so profoundly moved you was actually quite shoddy and was based on very fallible sources. Some of it was even just made up. How do you feel? You feel betrayed. The author has made a fool of you. He claimed that the work was factual, you let it affect you accordingly, and you were duped.

Now on another occasion, you might open a book and find a preface that says, "What follows is a parable.” Or better, "This is a work of fiction, although it is based on fact." You now have a different orientation to what you are about to read. You read it, and you find it to be one of the most moving and true books you have ever read. It also changes the way in which you look at the world, yourself, and your place in it. You live somewhat differently because of it. Now someone comes up to you and says, "You know, what [the author] said in that book didn't really happen, certainly not the way in which he describes." How do you feel now? Would you not say to this person, "I never assumed that it was all perfect fact. And the book's power to change my life had nothing to do with a perfect historical fit."

[...]

Consider this:The first two chapters of Genesis tell different tales of creation. If we accept that we have an edited compilation of different narratives, does that mean we must believe that the world had no Creator? Or does it not rather mean that what we have in the Torah are different versions of the same belief that we are God's creatures, but told in different ways, with different emphases, including very different understandings of the role of women in the world, produced by believers in different places and different times?

[...]

Some Jews take God as the sole and final religious authority. Some Jews take the thinking autonomous self as the sole and final religious authority. It is the particular characteristic of Conservative Judaism to insist that religious authority is a partnership, that it comes from the reality of a revealing God and the equally inescapable reality of a seeking, evolving community through which God's words get expressed over time.

*There are a few inaccuracies, which I noted in a comment on DH's post.

International Agunah Day

Today is the 13th of the month of Adar, the Fast of Esther. As I mentioned last year, the Fast of Esther has been designated International Agunah Day by Yad L'Isha. An agunah is a woman who is unable to obtain a get (Jewish divorce). In modern times, such situations are typically the result of a husband's refusal to grant his wife a get, either out of spite or in order to extort money or gain custody of children. Although certain aspects of the halakhot pertaining to marriage and divorce developed in order to protect women, they are set within a patriarchal framework in which the decision to marry or divorce ultimately resides with men. Women who cannot obtain a ghet are left in an untenable situation, unable to remarry lest their children become mamzerim.

Such situations do not arise in the Reform movement, which often relies on civil divorce, or in the Reconstructionist movement, which grants unilateral divorces in cases of recalcitrance. Rachel Adler, a Reform activist and theologian, has advocated replacing the traditional marriage ceremony, kiddushin, with an egalitarian shutafut ("partnership") ceremony, in part to avoid the creation of mamzerim and thus promote harmony with other movements.

Orthodox and Conservative rabbis in the diaspora have devised various methods for preventing women from becoming agunot, including the use of conditional marriage formulas, special clauses within the ketubah (marriage contract), and prenuptial agreements that make civil divorce contingent on the granting of a get. You can read about Conservative approaches to the problem here; the prenuptial agreement sanctioned by the Orthodox Rabbinical Council of America can be found here. Responsible rabbis do not officiate at weddings unless the agunah issue has been addressed. Those of us who marry in a halakhic context also have a duty to avail ourselves of one of these methods of agunah prevention, even if we expect to be married forever (as most of us do). It is only once these precautions become de rigueur that the problem will have been resolved.

When precautions have not been taken and a woman finds herself unable to obtain a get, rabbinical courts will often attempt to annul the marriage by means of various legal loopholes. Some courts (notably the Conservative and Masorti courts and the Morgenstern/Rackman bet din) grant annulments more readily than others. In Israel, where rabbinical courts are an arm of the state, legal sanctions are often imposed on recalcitrant husbands. However, such sanctions are not always effective, and the courts are not always willing to impose them. Rabbi David Malka, an Israeli rabbinical judge, recently admitted to the Jerusalem Post that he often encourages women to submit to the financial demands of recalcitrant husbands:

"Listen, this is money that she never earned," explained Malka. "Only in theory does it belong to her.

"For instance, according to the law the wife is entitled to half of a man's pension rights even though she never worked a day in her life. I do not think she should remain an aguna because she is stubborn about receiving her half."

The ugliness of such a statement coming from a leader of a community that encourages women to be stay-at-home mothers boggles the mind.

The organization Yad L'Isha (mentioned above) has made important strides toward helping Israeli agunot, including the creation of the institution of to`anot bet din, women who advocate for other women in divorce cases. Although they have no halakhic standing in rabbinical courts because of their gender, the to`anot, who are experts in the laws of marriage and divorce, have managed to work with rabbinical judges to free many potential agunot.

Right now, however, Israeli women are in a precarious situation. Annoyed by the public pressure imposed on them by institutions such as Yad L'Isha, the Israeli Council of Rabbinical Judges has decided to sever all ties with organizations that advocate for agunot. We can only hope that there is enough negative publicity to change their minds.

Please help spread the word about this problem, and take a moment today to recite the prayer for agunot.

You can read more about the connection between agunot and the Fast of Esther here.

(Hat tip to Miriam Shaviv and OOSJ, may his blog rest in peace, for linking to the JPost article.)

Metsorah: The Purity System in Post-Temple Judaism

Last week I wrote about the biblical purity system. This week I’d like to discuss the impact of the biblical system on post-Temple Judaism.

After some initial ambiguity, it became accepted that most of the biblical purity regulations applied only when the temple stood, since their practical implications were limited to access to the sanctuary and to entities dedicated to the sanctuary. Exceptions to this rule occur where biblical law suggests implications that extend beyond the sphere of the sanctuary. These exceptions occur in three major areas:

1. Pure and impure animals, birds, insects, etc. In addition to transmitting ritual impurity, impure creatures may not be eaten, according to Leviticus 11. This chapter also specifies the ways in which these creatures may transmit impurity to various types of vessels (vv. 32-36). These regulations form the basis for the laws pertaining to the maintenance of kosher cooking implements and dishes.

2. Purity of priests. Priests (kohanim) are prohibited from contracting death-impurity except in very specific situations (Leviticus 21:1-4). Although one might logically assume that this prohibition derives from the priests’ role in the Temple, the Bible states the prohibition categorically. Observant kohanim therefore refrain from visiting cemeteries to this day.

3. Menstrual impurity Leviticus 18:19 prohibits sexual intercourse with a woman in a state of menstrual impurity. The basis for determining this state and purifying oneself of it is derived from Leviticus 15:19-30. The sacrifices called for by verse 29, of course, can no longer be offered, but women are required to immerse in water from a natural source (referred to as a mikveh), a process that the biblical text describes as “washing oneself in water.”

The rabbinic development of #3 puzzles me in a number of respects, which I will outline below. I would appreciate it if those of you with more extensive knowledge of this area of halachah could help enlighten me.

First, I am somewhat confused about the immersion requirement. The Bible does not mandate that a woman immerse after menstruation, or after any other form of discharge, for that matter. (It does, inexplicably, mandate that women immerse from semen-impurity contracted through sexual intercourse.) My understanding is that the rabbis derive the requirement of immersion after menstruation from the requirement that men immerse after contact with menstrual blood (vv. 20-24). (Ironically, this requirement no longer applies, since the impurity of males has implications only insofar as the sanctuary is concerned.) My questions are as follows: Is immersion after menstruation considered halachah mi-de’oraita (“biblical” law)? If so, is it derived by means of gezerah shavah (analogy) or some other legal mechanism, or is it simply assumed?

Second, I am perplexed by the fact that the rabbis deemed the laws of zavah relevant to the prohibition against sex with a menstruant. A zavah is defined by as a woman who experiences a long or irregular blood flow, as per Leviticus 15:25-30. Unlike women with regular periods, who remain impure for seven days following the onset of menstruation, zavot remain impure for seven days following the cessation of blood flow, presumably to ensure that the flow will not resume without notice.

Based on the biblical text alone, it would seem that the laws of zavah should apply to off-cycle periods, or to periods lasting longer than seven days. The rabbis, however, considered any flow of three days or longer a case of zavah, and the Talmud (BT Niddah 66a) relates that Jewish women took on the additional stringency of applying the laws of zavah to isolated blood stains “the size of a mustard seed” or larger. Because of the difficulty of differentiating between cases of niddah (regular menstruation) and cases of zavah, the rabbis eventually instituted a new law calling for the stricter zavah regulations to be applied to regular menstruation as well (BT Niddah 67b). Thus, contemporary Orthodox wives wait seven days after the cessation of menstruation, even when their periods are regular, before immersing in a mikveh and resuming sexual relations with their husbands.

My question is, why should the rules of zavah apply in post-Temple times at all? Leviticus 18 prohibits sex with a woman in a state of niddah impurity, not a state of zavah impurity. This may seem like hair-splitting, but it is the sort of hair-splitting that constitutes the bulk of rabbinic law. True, it would be illogical to prohibit sex with a woman experiencing a regular period and permit it in the case of a lengthy or irregular period. This could be resolved, however, by applying the laws of niddah to cases of zavah. Applying the laws of zavah to cases of niddah strikes me as beyond the realm of reasonable stringency. What was the purpose of instituting such a law?

Even stranger, contemporary Orthodox practice requires a woman to wait an initial five days before counting the extra seven, even if her period is exceptionally short. The reason for this, as I understand it, is that a woman may expel semen for several days after intercourse, resulting in a state of semen-impurity (also referred to as zavah). As I’ve noted, the Torah does not explicitly prohibit sex with a woman experiencing an irregular period, and it certainly doesn’t prohibit sex with a woman in a state of semen-impurity. Even if such a counter-intuitive prohibition did exist, it should only prevent a woman from immersing while she might still be expelling semen, that is (to use the rabbis’ somewhat overzealous estimate) for five days after intercourse. To prevent her from even beginning to count the requisite seven days preceding immersion seems to me to defy common sense.

Finally, I understand that women who ovulate early, during their period of niddah, and are therefore unable to conceive (a state known as “halachic infertility”) are sometimes given dispensation to begin counting the extra seven days before the initial five are completed. However, they are never (as far as I know) given dispensation to forgo the extra seven, which would seem to be the truly superfluous ones. Thus, these dispensations are unhelpful to a majority of women, whose periods typically last longer than five days. Is this because the seven days are a matter of rabbinic law (halachah mi-derabbanan), while the five are a matter of custom (minhag)? Even if this is the case, there are other situations in which rabbinic law is waived on account of extreme need. (Not only to save a life – for that purpose, even biblical law is waived.) Why not here?

A Few Timely Comments

Here is the kiddush that DH used last Purim, in case any of you would like to use it. There may be a revised version by tomorrow.

(Halakhic note: It has been brought to my attention that Ha-gafen covers all beverages just as Ha-motsi covers all foods, so you do not have to -- indeed, should not -- make a separate blessing on the scotch.)

(Note on the note: If this doesn't mean anything to you, feel free to ingore it, or consult your local Rabbi :))

On a very different note, please note (no pun intended; I'm just tired) that today, Ta'anit Esther, is Agunah Awareness Day. An Agunah (pl. agunot) is a woman who has been abandoned by her husband but is unable to remarry because he has denied her a get (religious divorce). You can learn more about the problem and potential solutions here. A prayer for agunot from the Jewish Orthodox Feminist Alliance can be found here.

To those who are fasting, I wish an easy and meaningful fast. To those celebrating Purim tonight and tomorrow, a chag sameach!

UPDATE: This year's kiddush for Purim can be found in DH's Live Journal.

Vayyiqra/ Tsav

For those who are wondering, I did begin composing a post on Vayyiqra, and I had almost finished when I had to stop and get ready for Shabbat. Fortunately, it was a very general post on the subject of sacrifice and contemporary Judaism, so it is just as applicable to this week's parsha, Tsav, as it would have been to last week's. (I'd like to get into more specific issues eventually, but I'd rather deal with general themes first.) Since Purim is this Friday and I have quite a lot to do, I feel entitled to cheat. So here it is, two parshiyot in one:

The hope for a rebuilt Temple and a revival of the sacrificial order has been a relatively constant feature of Jewish eschatology over the centuries. There have, however, been a few variations. In his Guide for the Perplexed, for example, Maimonedes (1135-1204) posits that animal sacrifice was a primitive form of worship designed for primitive people, and that Jews were ultimately meant to move toward higher forms of worship, such as prayer and, ultimately, completely internal worship of the heart.* Rabbi Avraham Yitzhak Kook (1865-1935) envisioned a restoration of the sacrifical order, but one that would be restricted to vegetarian sacrifices along the lines of the biblical meal offering (mincha**). Unsurprisingly, the Reform and Conservative movements embrace the idea that Jewish worship has "evolved" beyond animal sacrifice.

The traditional musaf prayer (an "additional" prayer for Shabbat and holidays) expresses a desire for the restoration of the sacrifical order. The following paragraph comes from the musaf amidah for Shabbat:

You established the Sabbath, found favor in its offerings, commanded regarding the interpretation of its ordinances with the order of its libations. Those who delight in it will be honored forever, those who savor it merit life, and those who love its teachings have chosen greatness. From Sinai, they [our ancestors] were commanded regarding it, and You, Lord, our God, commanded us to offer the Sabbath additional [musaf] offering in the proper manner. May it be your will, Lord, our God and God of our ancestors, that You bring us in joy to our land and plant us within our borders, so that we may offer the sacrifices required of us there, continual [tamid] offerings in their proper order, and additional offerings in the manner prescribed for them. Then we will prepare and offer the additional offering of this Sabbath day before you with love, according to to Your will, as you wrote for us in your Torah, by the hand of Moses your servant, from Your Glory's mouth. . .

The prayer continues with the text of Numbers 28:9-10, which describes the mussaf offering:

On the Sabbath day, two year-old unblemished lambs, and two tenths of an ephah of fine meal mixed with oil, and its libation. The burnt-offering of the Sabbath, in addition to the continual burnt offering and its libation.

The Conservative Sim Shalom siddur (prayer book) offers several alternative versions of the passage. The least radical casts the offending portions in the past tense:***

You established the Sabbath, found favor in its offerings, comanded regarding the interpretation of its ordinances and the order of its libations. Those who rejoice in it will be honored forever, those who savor it merit life, and those who love its teachings have chosen greatness. From Sinai, they were commanded regarding it, and You, Lord God, commanded them to offer the Sabbath additional offering in the propper manner. May it be Your will, Lord, our God and God of our ancestors, Who returns children to their territory,**** that You bring us in joy to our land and plant us within our borders, where our ancestors offered the offerings required of them, continual offerings in their proper order, and additional offerings in the manner prescribed for them. There we will serve you with love and awe as in ancient times. They prepared and offered the mussaf offering for this Sabbath day before you with love, according to your will, as written in your Torah, by the hand of Moses your servant, from Your Glory's mouth. . .

The quotation from Numbers follows but is designated as optional. After the quote, another line is added:

Compassionate King, accept the prayer of your people Israel with mercy, wherever they dwell.

The Sim Shalom also includes an "alternative" mussaf service, which offers a choice of four substitutes for the above paragraph. The first is based on the traditional version but alters it significantly:

You have established the Sabbath, found favor in its offerings, commanded regarding the interpretation of its ordinances with the order of its libations. Those who rejoice in it will be honored forever, those who savor it merit life, and those who love its teachings have chosen greatness. From Sinai they were commanded regarding it, and you have commanded us to serve you in Jerusalem your city, on your holy Sabbath day, on your holy mountain. May it be Your will, Lord, our God and God of our ancestors, Who returns children to their territory, that you bring us in joy to our land and plant us within our borders, and that violence no longer be heard in our land, or destruction within our borders. There may we serve you in love and awe as in ancient times. Compassionate King, accept the prayer of your people Israel with compassion, wherever they dwell.

The remaining three alternatives were composed in English. They make no mention of past, present, or future worship in Jerusalem, focusing instead on the challanges and rewards of contemporary Sabbath observance.

All this variation within the official liturgy of a single movement attests to the controversiality of eschatology and sacrifice -- two issues to which most "modern" Jews devote very little attention. When we envision a better world, what do we see? A return to a better past? A revival of particular elements of the past, altered to suit contemporary mores? An age of peace between Jews and Muslims (with Jewish control of the Temple Mount, of course)? How do we regard those portions of the Torah that deal with sacrifice? Are they of merely historical interest (not that I have any problem with that)? Are they a forecast of the future? Or is there, perhaps, another option?

* Sorry, no citations this time. You'll just have to take my word for it.
** I am aware of the fact that my transliterations have become less and less consistent over time. You'll have to deal with it.
*** This translation is my own. A less literal translation appears in the siddur itself.
**** A paraphrase of Jeremiah 31:17. The editors of the Sim Shalom never missed an opportunity to sneak in a bit of Zionism.

So, Who Did Write the Bible?

When people ask me about biblical criticism, I often refer them to Who Wrote the Bible,* by Richard Eliott Friedman. The book offers a clear, cogent (albeit sometimes overly simplistic) defense of the Documentary Hypothesis, and it is easy and fun to read. I'm not out to persuade anyone to accept the hypothesis -- you can believe whatever you like -- but I do get irritated when people make smug deprecating comments about that which they do not fully understand. If you're going to criticize the critics, the least you can do is a bit of background reading.

(Disclaimer: If you fear a spiritual crisis, or if your name is Meredith, you are advised to stop reading now.)

Rabbi David Gottlieb of Ohr Someach had the integrity to read Friedman's book, and he posted a fairly detailed response on his website. Unfortunately, the response is filled with misconceptions, both minor and fundamental. I thought it might be worth responding to the response. (All right, someone asked me to.)

Gottlieb writes:

In describing objections to the traditional view that Moses wrote the Five Books, Friedman includes statements “that Moses was not likely to have said,” – e.g. the statement that Moses was the humblest of all men - and the fact that Moses is referred to in the third person. But these objections ignore the real traditional view that the author of the Five Books is G-d. It is not Moses writing his own story, but G-d telling Moses [sic!] story. Thus referring Moses in the third person is fully appropriate, and there is no failure of humility on Moses part in G-d’s writing that he was humble.

I think that Rabbi Gottlieb is missing the point. Friedman is not arguing with those who claim that God is the sole Author of the Bible. There is no way to refute such a claim. An omnipotent God can write a book in several different styles, using the language of different periods, etc. etc. He can also bury dinosaur bones in the earth and alter the half-life of Carbon-14, just to trick us. A distinction must be made between critical analysis and faith. A critical reader, ideally, makes no assumptions, and accepts whatever conclusions are best supported by the evidence. A person of faith, on the other hand, interprets the evidence on the basis of a predetermined conclusion. The person of faith is satisfied with an argument of plausibility, while the critical reader demands a preponderance of evidence. I do not mean to denigrate faith, but it must be accepted for what it is.

Back to Gottlieb:

Friedman ignores – or is unaware of – the fact that it is standard practice in the Bible for the speaker to use the third person when referring to himself. For example, in Exodus 19,11, G-d is speaking to Moses and says, “… for on the third day HASHEM will descend…” In Joshua 1,9, G-d is speaking to Joshua and says, “…for HASHEM your G-d is with you…”

In both of these cases the speaker is God. The principle cannot be so easily extended to Moses.

Other examples are Exodus 24,1 and I Samuel 12,11.

I don't see the relevance of these passages.

Friedman quotes, and approves the objection of Carlstadt that “…the account of Moses’ death is written in the same style as texts that precede it. This makes it difficult to claim that Joshua or anyone else merely added a few lines to an otherwise Mosaic manuscript.” Again, this is irrelevant to the traditional view of divine authorship – who is to say that G-d will not complete His book in the same style, using a different scribe?

Agreed. However, the traditional view of divine authorship is essentially irrelevant to Friedman's argument.

But even if one assumes that the human writer of the end did so on his own, why would he not imitate the style of the whole? Indeed, Friedman himself (P. 84) uses the very same logic to explain similarities in style in the J and E documents.

Arguments from style are inherently weak. However, Gottlieb's own argument is merely one of plausibility. A critical reader assumes multiple authorship only where there is positive evidence in its favor, and such evidence is conspicuously absent from Deut. 34.

Friedman cites the objection that the phrase “until this day” [for events that occurred in the time of Moses – D.G.] implies that the writer lived at a later time. On p. 21 he says the same for “There never arose another prophet in Israel like Moses….” But again, this ignores the traditional view that the author of the text is G-d Who gave it through Moses for all future generations. Thus it is quite acceptable for there to be passages relating to the time of the later reader.

Divine vs. human authorship aside (I'd rather not beat a dead horse), the fallacy of this argument is immediately apparent to anyone who goes to the trouble of reading the relevant verses. I'll take one example of many, Gen. 35:20: "Over her grave Jacob set up a pillar; it is the pillar at Rachel's grave to this day." I've visited the supposed site of Rachel's burial, and I don't recall seeing a pillar. The verse was written for an audience living when the pillar was standing, not for us.

In addition, there is internal evidence for the traditional view. Genesis 22:14 says “Abraham called the name of that site “Hashem Yireh,” as it will be said this day “On the mountain Hashem will be seen.” Now the verb is in the future tense: it will be said.

Biblical Hebrew has no "future tense" per se. The verb yera'eh is in the imperfect, which is often used for future actions, but may also have a more general durative sense, describing past actions that continue into the present, or present actions that continue into the future.

Similarly, Exodus 10:14 says “[the plague of locusts] was very severe – before it there was no [plague of] locusts like it, and after it there will not be such [a plague].”

The imperfect verb in this verse describes a past action continuing into the author's present. A better translation would be, "after it there would not be such [a plague]."

Friedman cites the objection that the phrase “across the Jordan” to identify Moses location presupposes that the writer was inside the land of Israel, since that phrase refers to the east side of the Jordan. However, according to the text, Moses never entered the land of Israel. Therefore, Moses could not have written that phrase. But the phrase "across the Jordan" is in fact used to refer to the east side of the Jordan even when the speaker himself is on the east side. See Numbers 32:32: "We will cross over ... to the land of Canaan, and our possession of our inheritance [of the land] [will be] across the Jordan." The tribes of Gad and Reuven are agreeing to fight to conquer Canaan and then return to the east side to live. And they make this statement while still on the east side. Nevertheless, they call the east side, where they are standing, "across the Jordan". Moses [sic!] statement should be understood in exactly the same way.

This is a false analogy. The two and a half tribes are saying that they will live across the river from their brethren. The reference point is the territory of the other tribes. The author who wrote that Moses was speaking "from across the Jordan" was also assuming a particular reference point, for a reason: that is where he and his readers lived.

Friedman avers that “… there is hardly a biblical scholar in the world actively working on the problem who would claim that the Five Books of Moses were written by Moses – or by any one person.” Strictly speaking, Friedman is right: no one will say that the Five Books were written by one person. In context, Friedman’s statement is designed to show that the only acceptable view is that of multiple human authorship. But this is a straw man: The traditionalist will also agree with Friedman’s statement, since he holds that it was authored by G-d. Of course, Friedman may intend to exclude the traditional view also. But then he is tendentiously defining who is “really” a biblical scholar to exclude those traditionalists who know the text as well anyone else.

The key phrase here is "actively working on the problem," i.e. the problem of authorship. Those who assume that the Torah was written by Moses at God's dictation cannot be included in this category.

Friedman assigns the story of the rape of Dinah is assigned [sic!] to J, including the explanation of the possession of Shechem by conquest. According to Friedman, E contradicts this explanation by saying that the land was purchased. But neither passage has any divine name at all. So the identification of the authors is one the basis of the theory that there are two authors with their different points of view. But then this passage cannot be evidence for the theory, since it must be assumed that the theory is true in order to show that there were two authors.

This is an important point, but it is based on a fundamental misconception. The variation in divine names was the basis for some of the earliest source identifications, but it is not as central to the Documentary Hypothesis as many laypeople assume. If it were, the hypothesis would indeed be very weak. No reasonable person would argue that a single author could not refer to the Deity by multiple names. The strength of the hypothesis lies in the fact that these different names correlate with different styles, different perspectives, and, in the case of the narratives, contradictory storylines. These other criteria make source criticism possible even where God is not mentioned, or where the names He is given are irrelevant (such as after God reveals his name to Moses in Ex. 3). In this particular instance, one suspects the presence of multiple sources because two different accounts are given for the acquisition of Shechem. The next step is to figure out which source is which on the basis of the available criteria (ideology, style, etc.).

I say that this is an important point because source criticism is, in fact, largely circular. A circular argument is not "proof" in the mathematical sense, but that does not mean that it is worthless. As the old adage goes, the proof of the pudding is in the eating. Take a look at Friedman's analysis of the flood narrative in Who Wrote the Bible, pp. 54-59, or in The Bible With Sources Revealed, pp. 42-47. The narrative divides neatly into two strands, each with its own characteristic language and narrative style, and each of which is more coherent than the composite text. An impartial reader will conclude that the most reasonable explanation for the present state of the text is that two versions of the story have been woven together.

Here is Friedman’s account of the sons of Jacob in the sources J and E. “The group of stories that invoke E are the stories of Dan, Naftali, Gad, Asher, Issachar, Zebulon, Ephraim, Manasseh, Benjamin. In short, the E group includes the names of all the tribes of Israel. The group of stories that invoke the name J are the stories of Reuben, Simeon, Levi, Judah. The first three of the four names on this list are the names of tribes who lost their territory and merged into other tribes. The only name of a tribe with existing territory in the J narrative is Judah. The J story goes even further to justify the ascendancy of Judah….” But this ignores the many passages in which the children are identified as twelve – Gen. 35: 23ff., 45: 8ff., 49: 1ff.

Nowhere does Friedman state that J only knew of Judah or that E only knew of the northern tribes. The issue is one of emphasis. While E is primarily interested in narrating the history of the northern tribes, J tends to focus on Judah, and depicts Judah as the "honorary firstborn."

And the blessing to Judah in chapter 49 – an essential motivation of the J source, according to Friedman – does not use J at all. Indeed, the whole context has J only once – in the blessing to Dan, who belongs to the story of E according to Friedman.

In fact, Friedman attributes the entire poem to J (see Sources Revealed, pp. 114-116).

Friedman says that J justifies Judah as king by disqualifying his three older brothers – Reuben for having had relations with Jacob’s concubine. But the sentence describing this crime – Gen. 35: 22 – is the last verse in a passage – 35: 9-22 – in which the only name that occurs is E – three times.

Gen. 35:22a is actually something of a non sequitur, and it does not contain any divine names. Vv. 9-21 are irrelevant.

According to Friedman there are two stories of Joseph being saved from the brothers – for E it is Reuben who saves Joseph; for J it is Judah. But the text uses no divine names at all. So Friedman can only distinguish the authors by assuming his theory is true. But then the title of his section – “Evidence from the stories” – is wrong. The story cannot be evidence for the theory since we have to accept the theory in order to interpret the story in accordance with the theory.

Again, the proof is in the eating. See Sources Revealed, pp. 94-95.

According to Friedman E portrays Joshua as Moses’ faithful assistant. In J Joshua plays no role. But Ex. Chapter 32 – the story of the golden calf – starts with E and then switches to J, and the verse mentioning Joshua, which occurs in the J section, has neither name.

After God reveals His name to Moses in Ex. 3, both E and P begin to use the tetragrammaton. For the purpose of source criticism, the names are irrelevant in Ex. 32.

According to Friedman the story of the golden calf is invented by priests living in the northern kingdom who have been rejected as priests by the northern king. The story is an implied critique of both north and south. But then how did it become the accepted orthodoxy? Why did not the northern priests succeed is quashing it? How did it spread to the south? Indeed, how did a brand new invented story by a small, rejected group, with clear, self-serving political motivation, get any attention at all?

These are valid questions, and they cut to the heart of what is, I believe, the central failing of Friedman's books. Political motivations can explain many things, but they cannot explain the preservation of these texts and the sacred status ultimately accorded to them by the Judahite people as a whole. The ancient Israelites were not, apparently, as cynical as R. E. Friedman.

According to Friedman Aaron is not criticized in the story of the golden calf since according to the tradition he was a high priest, and as such “…he cannot be pictured as suffering any hurt from G-d….” I suppose Friedman means this as an observation concerning the general religious mores of the times. But then we read in the recapitulation of the golden calf [Deut. 9: 20] “And G-d was outraged with Aaron to destroy him”.

E's chief consideration here is, according to Friedman, not ideological but historical:

[N]o matter how much antipathy the author may have felt toward Aaron's descendants, that author could not change the entire historical recollection of his people. They had a tradition that Aaron was an ancient high priest. The high priest cannot be pictured as suffering any hurt from God because in such a case he could not have continued to serve as high priest (p. 72).

Back to Gottlieb:

Friedman points out that the story says gods in the plural even though there is only one calf because Yerovom had two calves and the writer quoted his [sic!] in order to discredit his religious practice. But this makes the story itself incoherent. What is the polemical effect of a story that is obviously incoherent to even the casual reader?

The issue is not merely that "Yerovom had two calves," but that the words "Here are your gods, Israel, that brought you up from the land of Egypt" are identical to those used by Jeroboam in 1 Kgs. 12:28. In Friedman's words:

the writer of the golden calf account in Exodus seems to have taken the words that were traditionally ascribed to Jeroboam and placed them in the mouths of the people. This made the connection between his golden calf story and the golden calves of the kingdom of Israel crystal clear to his readers (p. 73).

Back to Gottlieb, again:

According to Friedman there is a difference between J and E concerning idol worship and manufacture. J forbids only molten statues. E prohibits both moten and gold-plated statues. Friedman’s explanation: Yerovom’s calves were molten while Solomon’s cherubs were gold-plated. Thus J condemns only Yerovom’s practice in the north – that fits J as a southern source. E condemns both – that fits E as a northern source criticizing both north and south. But the original cherubim of Moses were in fact solid gold – see Ex. 25:18 and 37:6 – and those passages are J.

The Hebrew term is miqshah, usually translated "beaten work," which may refer to gold leaf. In any case, the verses that Gottlieb cites are P, not J.

Furthermore, the text in I Kings 8:1-4 says explicitly that Solomon put the aron of Hashem – whose cover is the molten cherubim – in his temple.

There is no reference to the material of which the cherubim are made in this passage.

According to Friedman, “E rather attributes much importance to the Tent of Meeting….but it is never mentioned in J.” [Friedman’s italics.] Now there must be some mistake here – there are many passages in which the only name is J in which the Tent of Meeting is mentioned, for example: Ex. 30: 16, 18; 40: 7, 30; and especially 33: 7 where it gets its name!

The mistake is Gottlieb's. These passages are P.

According to Friedman, J is sympathetic to women and E is not. But see Ge. 21:1-13 – the passage begins with J, but it is E who commands Abraham to obey Sarah, and the passage continues with E saving Hagar. And see 31:1-16 – when Jacob’s uncle and cousins turn against him, and G-d commands him to return home, Jacob invites his wives to a private conference in which he describes the facts and the women give their free consent [“All the G-d has told you to do, do!”]. This is exemplary consideration for his wives – and aside from one J at the beginning, the whole passage is E.

Friedman never claims that E is unsympathetic to women. His claim is that J's stories are "much more concerned with women and . . . sensitive to their needs" [italics mine] than E's. That said, I basically agree with Gottlieb. This argument is silly.

One standard problem with all of this is the inconsistencies [sic!] in the character of the imagined editor. He preserved both documents because the people were familiar with them – but he cut and pasted them so that the result was very different from each. He cut and pasted to avoid doubts concerning authenticity, but he left in obvious contradictions and redundancies – precisely the material that leads the “critics” to doubt authenticity.

Interesting, isn't it? The redactor seems to have been more concerned with preserving the sacred texts than with ironing out the contradictions. One might reasonably ask why he would have bothered combining them at all, and indeed, this has been the subject of much historical conjecture. My favorite theory is that Artaxerxes called upon the various peoples of his empire to compile written collections of their local laws (see Ez. 7:23-26). The Judahites, for whatever reason, included their historical texts in this volume.

Another standard problem is to identify the editor. In chapter 13 Friedman votes for Ezra. But this creates an historical problem. In Ezra’s time most Jews were living in Babylon, there was a sizable community in Alexandria, there was the community in the land of Israel, and smaller communities elsewhere. None of these communities is supposed to have the five Books, since that text has not been invented yet. And different groups supported different texts [p. 225]. Now Ezra is creating a major revolution: replacing all the partial texts with a brand new text. There is no discussion of this event anywhere – no record of objections, those who accepted and those who rejected the text, no celebration of the new text, no myth of Ezra’s holiness etc. etc. I suggest that this silence of the historical record is enough by itself to reject Ezra – and anyone else living in a time to which these facts apply.

I suggest that any such objections would have been suppressed.

One final observation: Friedman remarks that in the world that produced the Bible “[p]robably the most important single thing was religion.” Yet the motivations that Friedman assigns to the writers of the various texts are political, economic, and personal. There is no pure religious motivation at all. I think that is very strange. Well, not so strange – I can easily understand why it appeals to Friedman and his colleagues. It casts religion in a thoroughly modern image, their own image. But it is surely very suspect as a reasonable reconstruction of the psychology of 2500 years ago, as Friedman’s own remark above attests.

Again, I agree that Friedman is often too cynical. However, I am skeptical of the notion of "pure religious motivation" in any context, particularly a context in which religion permeates every aspect of life. It can hardly be denied that religious people often conflate their own will with that of the Almighty. I could easily begin a discussion of contemporary politics right now, but this post is long enough as it is.

* The title is misleading. Who Wrote the Torah, or Who Wrote the Pentateuch, would have been more accurate. The former, I suppose, sounded too Jewish, and the latter would have made the average layperson scratch his head, so Friedman ended up with a gross inaccuracy. That's what happens when you write for the masses.

Prohibition?

After an embarrassing incident involving underage drinking, the OU has issued a ban on kiddush clubs. Some people are happy about this, mainly, it seems, because they dislike the kiddush clubs at their local shuls. This is not entirely logical. You may have had a bad experience at summer camp, but that doesn't necessarily mean that camp is an evil institution and ought to be banned. I've visited the kiddush club at my parents' shul a number of times. It is not at all exclusive (heck, they let me in), and I have never seen anyone, let alone a child or teenager, get seriously drunk.

In any case, the incident that supposedly provoked the ban did not occur at a kiddush club. It occurred at an apparently unsupervised party hosted by an 18 year old. If those kids had been drinking single-malt scotch with adults in their community rather than cheap beer with their buddies from school, I doubt that anyone would have had to call the police.

American history has taught us that banning alcohol consumption does not prevent alcoholism. What it does prevent is responsible drinking. People are not normally inclined to behave responsibly when what they are doing is considered illicit either way. I don't know whether people are actually making kiddush in cloak rooms, but if they are, there is something very wrong with the atmosphere in our shuls, and it isn't the fault of those buying the liquor.

I think it's telling that this ban has been issued by an organization that responded to a sex abuse scandal by cracking down on mingling between boys and girls at youth group events. Do they really think that by turning any contact with the opposite sex into a crime, they are going to prevent sexual harassment? Or was sexual harassment not really the issue? Along the same lines, one can't help but wonder whether the "crackdown" on kiddush clubs is really a response to underage drinking. Especially when a rabbi argues that the problem begins "once people start bringing in cholent."

Aish and the Book Ban

From an article in the Forward, by Steven I. Weiss (some background here):

Schroeder, who wrote the article being reviewed by Aish HaTorah, said he did not know that his writings were being used on the organization's Web site and that he was surprised they would have been removed.

"Just yesterday, I gave four hours of classes on the age of the universe, in Discovery," he said, referring to the organization's in-depth seminar program. Of the site's notice that the article was "under review, in consultation with today's leading Torah scholars," Schroeder asked, "Why would a Torah scholar know relativity, unless he's studied relativity?"

As DH put it, "now we know that Aish is just like every other Jewish organization." ("Organizaton"? What's that?)

Hat tip to Jewish Whistleblower.

Speaking of Heretics. . .

I'd like to welcome Rabbi Nosson Slifkin to the club. (To think, until about an hour ago I considered him a fundamentalist.)

You can read all about R. Slifkin's heresy here,or you can go straight to this wonderful article, in Dei'ah veDibur. An excerpt:

Gedolei Yisroel [the greatest living rabbis]* have issued an open letter against books by Rabbi Nosson Slifkin (also known as "the Zoo Rabbi") such as The Science of Torah and Mysterious Creatures, which are filled with heretical ideas on the fundamentals of emunoh [faith] formed by the former yeshiva student himself.

When these books reached the hands of English-speaking talmidei chachomim [religious scholars] they were shocked and dismayed at the contents. Several months ago HaRav Yitzchok Sheiner, rosh yeshiva [headmaster] of Yeshivas Kamenitz and a member of Moetzes Gedolei HaTorah, wrote a letter to gedolei hador [the greatest rabbis of the present generation] in which he said, "As one who knows the English language I hereby testify before you that a talmid chochom [scholar] concerned for the honor of Torah and emunoh came to me and showed me books written by an individual by the name of Nosson Slifkin, which are hair-raising to read. Perhaps I transgressed the obligation to tear kria ["tearing,"** a mourning ritual] when confronted with things that appear to be complete heresy, against all that is accepted and known according to our faith ever since the Torah was given on Mt. Sinai. He believes that the world is millions of years old—all nonsense!—and many other things that should not be heard and certainly not believed. In short these books cannot be brought into the home of one who believes in Hashem and His Torah."

To this letter HaRav Elya Ber Wachtfogel, rosh yeshiva of Yeshivas South Fallsberg, adds, "And he also writes that Chazal Hakedoshim [the authors of the Talmud] can err chas vesholom [God forbid] in worldly matters chas vesholom and therefore [they can err]*** in halochoh [Jewish law] as well chas vesholom, as he wrongly proves from maseches Horayos [a tractate of the Talmud] —all nonsense! And the whole book is filled with similar instances of total heresy. And even regarding the parts that are not total heresy, he who reads them and accepts his writings will eventually become a total heretic. And furthermore, even what is not heretical is expressed in a way only a heretic would speak." [I think that means that R. Slifkin doesn't write in Yeshivish.****]

My favorite line:

Rabbonim [rabbis] who gave their haskomoh [endorsement] to the book retracted their approbation in a letter explaining that they relied primarily on the fact the author was the product of yeshivas.

Now we know how much those haskomos are worth (not that there were really any illusions).

*The bracketed additions are mine, with one exception.
**A typical Yeshivish redundancy.
***This is the exception.
****This, of course, is good news for anyone who needed the information contained in the brackets.

UPDATE: Gil Student has a wonderful post with some inside information. (The comments are also worth reading.) DovBear has posted an "action alert" calling for the defense of R. Slifkin. DH has a few words on a related matter.

UPDATE 2: Interesting sociological analysis by the Hedyot (reactions?) and a shpoof.
Cross-Currents' Yitzchok Alderstein comments, and Paul Shaviv responds.
Looks like this is it for Gerald Schroeder. Welcome to the club.

Real Live Heretics

As you may have guessed based on the number of links in recent posts, I've been spending a good deal of time reading blogs. Too much time. I'm sure that most of you have had this experience, moving from one blog to another, link to link to link to link, for hours and hours. Along the way, I discovered something fascinating (okay, fascinating to me): a small network of blogs by Real Jewish Heretics.

I should explain. Most of you know that apikorsus (the name of this blog) is the Ashkenazi version of an Aramaicized Greek noun that, for traditional Jews, means "heresy." (To those who didn't know, sorry -- I didn't get around to it until just now.) I call my blog "heresy" because much of the content is heretical from an Orthodox perspective, and I have always had one foot in the (Modern) Orthodox community. On a certain level, though, the title is a joke. I don't stay awake nights worrying that I'll have no portion in the World to Come, and I haven't, as far as I know, been excommunicated from any religious denomination.

Let's face it: in the modern world, it doesn't take much to be a heretic. Innumerable* bloggers refer to themselves as such, and it doesn't seem to trouble anyone. No wonder: most blogging heretics are quite benign. There's a junk food heretic, a Star Trek heretic, even a knitting heretic. I used to read the blog of an Episcopal seminary student who used her real name and called herself a heretic. (She recently moved, having decided that the description was no longer appropriate.) Non-conformity is the new conformity.

But then, not everyone lives in what I call the "modern world." Certain right-wing Orthodox communities -- no, all right-wing Orthodox communities -- have resisted modernity to a greater or lesser extent. In such communities, non-conformity isn't chic, and it certainly isn't easy. There have always been doubters, but most have kept quiet. Now they have blogs.

Most these blogs are relatively new. There's mis-nagid, a confirmed atheist in a black hat. Then there's the Hedyot, an "ex-yeshiva guy finally speaking up." Most of the names are self-explanatory: A Hasid and a Heretic, OrthoSceptic, A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing, Chassidus Interruptus. Yitzhak Eyezik has just entered the blogosphere, but he hasn't done come in quietly. There is one female in the bunch, Fluffy Keneidele, who is articulate beyond her years. And there are surely more to come.

These aren't people who are simply frustrated with Jewish law or fed-up with frum society. They have fundamental objections to everything they've been taught to believe. Why don't they leave the world that they in which they were raised? I'm sure there are many reasons (some are discussed in the blogs), but surely this is one of them: most of these guys are married, and they are raising kids. Think about those kids, and tell me that the pressure to marry young is not an evil thing.

I'm going to go now, because I have an exam tomorrow and I've spent a ridiculous amount of time composing this post. Those of you who don't have exams should check out those blogs. There will be a few on the links list soon.

UPDATE: Two more: Mishlei Shlomo and Yoinoson Schreiber. (Btw, am I allowed to use the term "blogroll" even though I don't use Typepad? "Links list" sounds stupid.)

CLARIFICATION: It seems that Yitzhak Eyezik is also DovBear. So he's not so new, really.

Worthwhile Reading

. . .especially for my dad, who is now in the business of marketing Jewish meat. I'm referring to the Chayyei Sarah Shabbaton Chronicles as presented by Esther of JDaters Anonymous. Old, but timeless. Start with this post, then move on to the Chronicles proper. Esther has them laid out very neatly, with headings.

(Take note: there are comments on Sarah's posts, even where there appear to be none. It's a Haloscan bug.)

1/5/05: I should probably clarify that by "worthwhile" I mean "hilarious."

Choosing Life

(I didn't come up with the biblical reference, but I like it.)

Our Hillel had a visit last week from the president and founder of the Halachic Organ Donor Society. Did you know that Jews have the lowest percentage of organ donors among all ethnic groups worldwide? If we valued life as much as we claim to, the opposite would be true. Organ donation has been judged halakhikally permissible by R. Moshe Feinstein and many Orthodox authorities after him, as well the Chief Rabbinate of Israel and the governing bodies of the Conservative and Reform movements. Some consider it obligatory. Our failure to donate is completely unjustified.

You can register for a donor card here. One of the more important things that I learned from the lecture is that in the United States, it is illegal to harvest a victim's organs without the approval of a spouse or family member. Many Jews oppose organ donation for all sorts of emotional and superstitious reasons, and sometimes because of misconceptions of halakha. If your emergency contact is one of them, your donor card is useless. You have to ask. (If a religious family member needs convincing, refer him or her to this page or this page.)

It's probably a lousy time to bring this up. But then, it usually is. Here's how I try to look at it: we take out insurance to protect ourselves from all sorts of eventualities that we hope will never occur. We don't like to think about these possibilities, and in most cases, the odds are that they will not happen. That doesn't stop us from doing what's necessary to protect ourselves. This is the same thing, except that it's for someone else. That doesn't make it any less urgent.

Full disclosure: DH and I haven't registered for cards. We're troubled by one aspect of the HODS form, which is its requirement that all preparations for transplant be made in consultation with a family-appointed rabbi. This seems like an unnecessary delay. If brain-stem death has been determined by a medical team, and if your family's rabbi views brain-stem death as halakhik death, what can he (or she) possibly have to contribute? (This is a serious question. Anyone?)

One last thing: HODS seems to be trying to arrange for lectures at synagogues, Jewish organizations, and high schools. Those of you in Jewish education and/ or the rabbinate might want to look into that.

Okay, that's all for now. We should all have good health, as they say. Happy Chanukah.

Who's Being Untsniusdik Now?

I wonder what Rav Shachter was thinking last night when Rebbetzin Jungreis delivered a "benediction" before the entire Republican National Convention. He was probably proud to see an Orthodox Jew standing up for the president. For some reason, modesty is only an issue in Orthodox settings. Keep women behind a curtain in shul, and the rest of their lives is irrelevant.

I suppose one should be grateful for small things.

Update: Simcha says:

Don't be silly. Rebbetzin Jungreis has been condemned for years for precisely this issue. She is persona non-grata in many places in the yeshiva world. But you wouldn't know that from reading The Jewish Press.

All right, then. I was trying to give Rav Shachter the benefit of the doubt. Frankly, I'd prefer a little hypocrisy to what is apparently "centrist" Orthodoxy's actual attitude toward women in public roles.

What can you do.

My Response to Schick's Response to Goldberg

My mother sent me a link to this Jewish Press column by Joseph Schick. The column is a response to the New York Times column by Jeffrey Goldberg to which I linked earlier this week. (Sorry, folks. The NYT column is no longer available for free.)

Schick writes:

The clear message from Goldberg`s piece is that Jewish settlers, with the tacit support of some Orthodox Jews and rabbis, want to kill Ariel Sharon. Unfortunately, this charge is not completely baseless. As I wrote in my last column, there are fanatics who have called for, or implicitly condoned the idea of, Sharon`s murder. Especially in light of Yitzhak Rabin`s murder at the hands of an Orthodox Jew, there is an obligation on all Jews to condemn the fanatics and not to ignore the danger they present.

However, Goldberg never distinguished between the fanatics and the other 95 percent of Yesha residents. Instead, he defamed all of them. He completely ignored the Yesha Council`s repeated statements that it unequivocally opposes any and all forms of violence in the framework of opposition to Sharon`s unilateral withdrawal plan. He also ignored the pact signed by Yesha Council leaders two weeks ago, in which they agreed that IDF soldiers would not be asked to disobey orders to dismantle settlements and that no form of violence was acceptable. And though Goldberg highlighted Avi Dichter`s concern about 150-200 extremists, he disregarded that Dichter also emphasized that the extremists were in no way representative of the general settler public.

I never had any doubt that these fanatics were in the minority. Residents of the settlements tend to be politically right-wing, but they are generally peaceful people. It is easy to be opposed to settlements; that is how supporters of Israel show that they are "moderate." But the issue doesn't seem that simple to me. There are some very well-established Jewish communities in the West Bank, and, after all, there are Arab communities in Israel. Why not Jewish communities in a Palestinian state?

Nonetheless, I am uncomfortable with Schick's article. It raises an issue with which I often struggle when I post on matters relating to Israel in this blog. On the one hand, I agree with Schick that the secular media is often unjust in its depiction of settlers, and that is a problem. On the other hand, I don't think readers of the Jewish Press need to be reminded of that. Ditto for readers of my blog, who (I surmise from the comments) are almost exclusively religious Jews who support the Jewish state.

I am grateful for media watchdog organizations such as CAMERA and Honest Reporting, but I seldom visit their websites or read their newsletters. I don't think there's much to be gained by nurturing feelings of victimization. Jews like to point out that Palestinian extremists are more numerous and more prone to violence than Israeli extremists. That is true, for a variety of reasons (none of which has to do with Arabs being evil or Jews being nice). But the violent Israeli extremists exist, and we, as Jews, should be more disturbed by that than by any bias we perceive in the media. It is our religion that they are perverting.

I Kinda Miss the Levys

Now I'm getting updates on former neighbors via links to articles on random blogs. Not sure what to think.

Ah, well. The news is: the Levys have disposed of their TV. The kids are doing wonderfully, according to Chavy. I'm glad to hear it. They really needed a bit more exercise.

DH says he has no objection to individuals deciding not to watch television, but he thinks that communal pressure to pull the plug is a Bad Thing. The message is that frum Jews can't handle contact with the outside world.

"The Satmars go a step further," he says, "by teaching their kids in Yiddish."

I guess he's right. Still, there really isn't any worthwhile programming for kids Tehila and Aharon's age. We rarely watch TV ourselves, and I can't say I miss it. If you ask me, life without the boob tube should be considered by all parents, frum and otherwise.

The internet, on the other hand. . . Well, we'll leave that for another time.

This One's For Dad

The Canadian Jewish News reports on the growing popularity of single-malt scotch at kiddush clubs. Neil Nathan says,

"The absolute best thing to eat with scotch is shmaltz herring. When I come home from work, I may have a glass of scotch and some herring before I decide what to have for dinner."

Hat tip to Danny at B'nai Akiva's Blog.

Folks, Can We Stop Being Racist?

I don't want to write this post. I really, really don't want to. But I'm starting to feel like I have to.

I've spent time in a variety of Jewish communities, mostly various flavors of Orthodox and Conservative. There are certain trends that one notices as one moves further to the right of the religious spectrum, one of which is an increasing tendency toward what can only be called racism.

I'm sorry guys, but it's true. The sorts of things that one hears about "the Arabs" in so-called frum communities would make a decent person's skin crawl. People talk casually about "wiping them out." Sometimes they make jokes about it. If these same people heard American Muslims saying similar things about Jews, they'd be calling the ADL in no time. I don't think they'd be reassured to hear that it was only a joke.

These are the very circles in which one most often hears of the "rising tide of anti-Semitism," of madrassas preaching hatred of Jews. They say, this is different. We're not directly inciting people to kill. Well, neither are the vast majority of American Muslims -- even the sort that we call "fundamentalist." It's all talk. But we recognize that it's dangerous talk, that talk can have consequences.

We recognize it when it's them. What about when it's us?