My take on the article is that Jews in Israel, as in the United States, faces a problem of memory of the Holocaust.  As time passes; as survivors, liberators, and righteous Gentiles die; as we neglect the meticulous records the have been preserved in places of memory and veneration, and in places of past horrors as well; as all of this happens in these post-Holocaust years, the personal and the communal lessons gleaned from those unspeakable experiences will be lost.  And that can yield the possibility of forgetting the lessons, and repeating mass murders.

Despite the obvious prohibitions of the Torah found in Leviticus, these tattoos stand – in my mind – almost in protest to forgetfulness.  As one might wear the wedding ring of a deceased relative, or display a photograph on the wall of someone dear in the family, I can see how these numbers become holy reminders of what transpired, and they call to mind the individual memory of a loved one.

The fact that some may be offended by these tattoos stems from the known proscription of body defacing that we find in the Torah.  And for some, that is enough to end the discussion.  But for those who wear these particular tattoos, it is, perhaps, a fitting memorial to a loved one who suffered the ultimate degradation of the body: mass murder based on prejudice.

Regarding the remarks from Primo Levi, here is an excerpt from his book, “Survival in Auschwitz” (1947), page 28:  “To the old hands of the camp, the numbers told everything:  the period of entry into the camp, the convoy of which one formed a part, and consequently the nationality.  Everyone will treat with respect the numbers from 30,000 to 80,000: there are only a few hundred left and they represented the few the survivals from the Polish ghettos.  It is as well to watch out in commercial dealings with a 116,000 or a 117,000: they now number only about forty, but they represent the Greeks of Salonica, so take care they do not pull the wool over your eyes…”

When I read these words, I think this was his tongue-in-cheek way of chiding the way that the Germans may have classified people: for the Nazis, those with tattoos represented the scum of the earth.  And for him, he simply saw them as a way of knowing the nationality of a landsman.

As to the number of survivors alive today, it is difficult to say, but as the number dwindles, we must find creative and concrete ways of remembering them.
 

Question:  I am an adult woman with a developmental disorder (autism/Asperger's Syndrome).  I have two young adult children who both also have this disorder.  It is genetic in our family.  What does the Torah/Talmud say (if anything) about such disabilities and how disabled people should be treated?

I am glad you raised this question.  It is a clear example of the need to review – in every age – the approach to the subjects covered by our texts.  I say this because the development of Jewish law over the last 2,000+ years has not always kept pace with what we know through science, philosophy, and rational thinking.  If we were to search the texts of our sages for solutions to modern problems, we would be unable to find them.  Who would have thought that someone with a developmental challenge should be handled differently today, than someone who - in ancient times - might have been seen as being affected by God?  Hence we must re-evaluate contemporary situations using not only the words on our pages, but also through the lens of the human values of justice and compassion.  It is then that we will find the correct answer for our day.

When it comes to various developmental disorders, the Torah is mute when considering the lives of normal people.  For members of the Priestly family, the Cohanim, they would be barred from serving in their traditional priestly roles in the Temple; their physical disabilities disqualify them.  That is the intention of the book of Leviticus, when it says,

“God spoke to Moses saying: Speak to Aaron and say to him: If there is a descendent of yours that has a blemish, for all generations, then he shall not come near to sacrifice the food of his Lord.  Every man that is blemished shall not draw near, if he is blind or lame, or flat-nosed or long-limbed.  Neither shall he who has a broken foot or a broken hand, or else is hunchbacked, dwarfish, has a blemish in his eye, boil-scars, scurvy, or crushed testicles.  Any man who has a blemish from among the descendents of Aaron the priest shall not draw near to sacrifice the fire-offerings of God, for he has a blemish and therefore shall not draw near to sacrifice the food of his Eternal.  But the food of his God, even from the holy of holies and of course from the holy, he shall eat.  But he shall not come near to the dividing curtain nor approach the altar for he has a blemish, and he shall not desecrate My holy precincts, for I am God who sanctifies them.  Moses spoke these things to Aaron and to his sons and to all of the people of Israel (Leviticus 21:16-24).”

In her book “Judaism and Disability: Portrayals in Ancient Texts from the Tanach to the Bavli” (Galludet University Press, 2002, page 123), Rabbi Judith Abrams argues that the ancient Rabbinic concern was not that a disabled person was shunned because of being unable to serve in the Temple; there was no Temple in the Rabbinic period to worry about.  Rather, she asserts that a person was required to participate in the transmission of Jewish laws and values: if one’s disability prohibits one from doing that, then that person’s disability is a serious one that prohibits him/her from normal social intercourse.

In modern times, recognition of one’s talents and utilizing them despite challenges, is much more the norm in the Jewish community.  Organizations such as the Religious Action Center for Reform Judaism have dedicated staff members, speaking to congressional officials, to ensure that the disabled are not shoved aside whether in fair employment practices or in the social life of our country.  These attitudes remind us not to be fearful of those who have different skills than we do, and not to allow such prejudices to rule one’s logic when encountering those with problems to solve in their lives.

Each person in the world needs to be sensitive to the needs of the disabled, to be patient when dealing with those who have life challenges, and to advocate on behalf of all of God’s children, however differently made.
 

It is safe to say that there is no direct command that refers to the usual necessity or custom of humans to be involved in the working world.  Like so many things in Jewish practice, we make inferences from texts that do not, at first, seem to refer to a specific practice.  Thus this answer below:

The overall attitude toward work might begin within the Ten Commandments:  In Exodus 20:8-10, we read as follows:  “Remember the Sabbath day, in order to sanctify it.  Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath unto the Eternal your God…”  From this passage we infer a positive commandment about when one performs one’s labors on the earth, and when to rest.  Although this passage is used to underscore the approach about how to observe the Sabbath, these words assume that people perform labor, and that this is how one goes through one’s life in the world.

In a later chapter in Exodus, we learn once again about the necessity and timing of work (Exodus 23:12: “Six days you will do thy work, and on the seventh day you will rest…”), and in Leviticus’ Holiness Code (Leviticus 19:13) we learn the beginnings of laws directed toward employers:  “Do not defraud or rob your neighbor.  Do not hold back the wages of a hired worker overnight.”  These regulations are a matter of fairness.

The reaction of the Torah about working for “six days” surely reflects an economic necessity of our ancestors in the Ancient Near East.  The institution of the Sabbath was an innovation in the life of our ancestors, who had to work hard to earn a hardscrabble living from the land.  In our day, we adopt a slightly different attitude, with the five-day workweek, or in some industries and government, an even more modified schedule.

Another inference in tradition is seen in Maimonides’ guidelines of giving tzedakah (virtuous and just giving).  We know that the highest form of tzedek (righteousness) consists of providing money, a loan, time, or whatever else it takes to enable an individual to be self-reliant.  It is this self-sufficiency that implies that working is the usual condition for humanity.

However, as we learn in Deuteronomy 15:11, “there will never cease to be poor people in the world.  Therefore I [God] command you to surely open your hand toward your kinfolk, your poor, and the needy in your land.”  Here we see that even though people are commanded to work, there will be those who, for whatever reason, will not be able to take advantage of their natural talents, and therefore we – the working people of the land – will have to care for them.
 

This is not to suggest that a full confession take place.  You are correct that there are occasions where doing things to promote sh’lom bayit makes sense, but this is a judgment call on your part.  You need to think about weighing the benefits of disclosure against the benefits of concealment, and then make the decision and live by it. 

 

Jewish tradition is suffused with sacred obligations regarding the aged.  Perhaps the most basic and prevailing direction we follow is taken from the Holiness Code of Leviticus – Leviticus 19:32 – which instructs, “You shall rise before the aged and show deference to the old; you shall revere [fear?] your God, I am the Eternal.”  The implications of this law are clear: recognition of the place of the aged, and demonstration of respect for age and life/world experience.

One may think that “rising” and “showing deference” connotes the same thing.  But “rising” is simply an act that can feign deference without actually doing something about it.  “Showing deference” (from the Hebrew root h-d-r, which can mean “beautify” or “glorify”) represents intentional actions that take place between people, and adhering to this mitzvah (sacred obligation) requires positive actions in order to fulfill it.  What this means is that our approach to the aging is two-fold: attitudinal and behavioral.  And the more that we work on both fronts, the more profound will be our impact on society.

The Torah has many other references to support for the elderly, especially alluding to their experience and wisdom.  Primarily notable are the references to the 70 elders who accompanied Moses on part of his journey to the summit of Mt. Sinai, and who continued to be counselors, advisors, judges, and consultants to Moses and the Israelites during their journey in the desert.  These “elders” (‘z’keinim’ in Hebrew) had experience and wisdom to help the people make progress, and their years of being present for the people stand as a clear example of the qualities that a person of experience must have.

Texts that refer to the talents of the elderly come from Pirkei Avot, the wisdom of our Rabbinic Sages.  Judah ben Teima [in 5:24] said this about age progression:  “At five years old a person should study the Bible, at ten years the Mishnah, at thirteen be ready for the commandments, at fifteen study the Talmud, at eighteen for the bridechamber, at twenty for one's life pursuit, at thirty for authority, at forty for discernment, at fifty for counsel, at sixty to be an elder, at seventy for gray hairs, at eighty for special strength (Psalm 90:10), at ninety for decrepitude, and at a hundred a man is as one who has already died and has ceased from the affairs of this world.”  Rabbi Judah’s approach seems to be that, as one approaches old age, s/he attains certain intellectual and emotional strength; perhaps there is the suggestion that we need to show deference to those attaining these age mileposts.

But he also suggests that there is an end to one’s effectiveness, and this is not necessarily the case in our day.  Today, perhaps 1,800 years after Rabbi Judah, we have learned much more about the healthy elderly and their special talents and skills.  We have come to a societal consensus that age itself should no longer be a criterion for deference or for the end of it, and that each person’s skills should be assessed at face value.

We should still “rise before the aged and show deference to the old,” but perhaps there is, in our society, more that we should be doing.
 

 

 

 

The issue of community associations’ or home owners associations’ control of religious, patriotic, or political “displays” in condominium complexes has been examined in various states, from Arizona to Washington, and from Colorado to Connecticut (which is the locus of the most recent case, probably the one to which you refer).

In this most recent incident in Stratford, CT, there was more than an order to remove the mezuzah:  the association fined her $50 per day that she violated the order.

According to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency (JTA) report of this incident(http://www.jta.org/news/article/2012/03/22/3092294/conn-ban-on-mezuzahs-draws-queries), the issue hung (no pun intended) on whether one defines the doorpost as being part of the owner’s domain.  In the words of the condo association, the doorpost is a “structural element” of the building (and therefore not of the ‘unit’) and is controlled by rules governing common property.  The association therefore believes that it has jurisdiction over what goes on the doorpost.

Oddly enough, the door of each unit seems to belong to the owner, and therefore the association permits wreaths, signs, and other displays if they’re on the door.

The JTA press release noted that “the right of condominium owners to display mezuzahs has generally prevailed in similar cases in Connecticut and other states, and a number of states have enacted laws upholding that right.”  Cases in the states I mention above regarded the display of the American flag, protest flags, and political campaign signs, and when they have entered the legal realm, the home owner usually prevails.

To answer your question, I believe that the law of the land prevails.  But one must ask “To which law are we referring: the law permitting condo associations to govern the common areas of their buildings, or the Constitutional question of the rights of freedom of religion and expression?  This is really a legal question about which I do not have the requisite expertise.  Nonetheless, it would seem to me that courts have to weigh the good of the association’s desire for uniformity in appearance with the guarantees preserved in our Constitution.  The latter usually win out, especially when it comes to religious displays.
 

First and most important: If this is in reference to a particular and/or individual situation, please confer with your Rabbi to receive the most authoritative guidance for you.  However, for the sake of general discussion and edification, here is my response:

 

 

 

I believe that your question is a broader one than you imagine.  It appears that your area of inquiry includes the general issue of whether and how Jews, as a religious minority, should or should not fit into the general society.

 

I know of at least one other Orthodox family in New Jersey who appeared prominently in a reality show on the subject of recycling in their home.  In watching the program, I saw that the family's Jewish observances were highlighted in ways that demonstrated that religious observance is not inimical to ecological concerns.  That was a very positive image.  So I believe it really depends upon how Judaism is presented, and how the hosts treat it.

 

Question:  “RE: article in NYT Feb.14 2012 Science/Health section about a Senior Residence Facility passing an edict that residents in the Assisted Living and Nursing facility can not eat in the same dining room as the independent living residents.  (I recommend you read the article).  Some couples and friends can no longer dine together.  Various reasons were cited for the decision.  Space, mobility, safety, and concern about depressing the independent residents, among other reasons.  This is screaming out to me as a great discussion topic in Jewish values.  I can point to the values of caring for the sick and disabled, treating your neighbor as you would like to be treated, honoring the elderly, etc., but I am looking for specific sources and quotes to use as a teaching lesson.  Thanks.”

 

The complicated situation that this article details (“Tables Reserved for the Healthiest” NYTimes for February 9, 2012, found online at http://newoldage.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/02/09/tables-reserved-for-the-healthiest/?ref=health) can easily break one’s heart.  To hear that couples have been separated, or that seniors with disabilities were excluded because they seemed – by someone in authority – to be unable to care for themselves in the communal dining room, is shameful.  And yet, when one reads this report, one begins to see the various sides of this issue.

 

As with many – if not all – ‘ethical matters’, selecting one particular course of action is not a choice between ‘good’ and ‘bad’, but rather between many competing ‘good’ values.  We want to honor those who want to live independently and, at the same time, it’s vital to be concerned about the safety and health of all the residents.  When we filter out the voices of exclusivity from that article (“I should be able to have what we call quiet enjoyment,” said one female resident.  And “It’s a very upscale community,” said [the developer and current executive director of the Norfolk facility].  He continued, “When someone comes in wearing a coat and tie, with guests, they want an ambience of fine dining”.), I think we can find points of contention between competing values.

 

So it’s not a matter of one side being more correct than another.  But using one specific Jewish value one might be able to see a pathway toward resolving the question.

 

I begin with a commandment from the book of Leviticus.  In chapter 19, verse 32, we read, “Rise up in the presence of the hoary head, pay honor to the elderly.  You shall fear your God: I am the Eternal.”  This teaches that we are to ‘honor’ and ‘pay respect’ to the elderly; and the “fear” that this verse speaks about leads us to be mindful of the importance of this value: Our ancestors believed that a violation would lead to divine retribution, so we were instructed to watch our behavior toward and our words about very carefully.

 

So there is no question that the elderly have a special place in Jewish praxis.  And since exclusion from certain activities or facilities is anathema to this value of honoring our elderly, we need to define this value for us and for those whom we are to honor.  That may be all the prompting you need for a values-based discussion on this article.

 

What does it mean to honor?  When someone becomes ill during dinner and ‘throws up,’ do we honor the sensibilities of those who can’t deal with someone becoming sick, or do we honor the ill and have compassion for their situation?  Concerning the safety issue, do we honor the elderly who want to live completely independently, or do we honor the other residents who have legitimate safety concerns about wheelchairs that can pose safety risks, and find someone to accompany them through the buffet line, a place admittedly where there are safety issues?

 

These are the ethical questions that can form the basis for a properly guided discussion on what it means to honor the elderly.

Question:  Is it permitted for a Conservative Jew to follow a Western Sephardic minhag?  I am Conservative through and through but follow my Spanish-Portuguese Minhag at home and with children and grandchildren.  I don't make an issue of this in the community, but prefer to attend a Spanish-Portuguese Synagogue during the High Holidays if possible.  I feel the two traditions are very close.  Please understand I am Conservative.

 

As a member of both the Reform and the Ashkenazi community, it is difficult for me to speak directly on this question.  However, I might infer from your note that you have a Sefardi background, so I would say that you can come by your practice with valid pedigree.  I presume that the issue concerns the perceptions of those more steeped in the Sefardi community with which you may choose to affiliate, as well as what you anticipate your Conservative Rabbi's reaction to be when/if s/he discovers that you have different dietary habits on Passover.

 

Be that as it may, I sometimes follow the dictum of Hillel, who said that we should go out and see that the people do and feel, so that we can know what a possible reaction may be.  Accordingly, I asked this question to a friend who has one parent from the Sefardi community and one from the Ashkenazi community, and I believe his views are germane to the issues raised by your inquiry.  I could not agree more.

 

Here is his response:  “Yes, it is ok for someone to do that [“follow my Spanish-Portuguese Minhag at home and with children and grandchildren”].  The important thing, regardless of their minhag, in my humble opinion is to pass down the traditions of our ancestors to our children.  I think, each generation, we loose a little bit.  A word here, a word there, a prayer, a memory, a reason, justification, and answer to a question, or whatever, and from that anyone who is going out of there way to discover those and pass them to their children is honoring our parents, almost in a ten commandments #5 sense.  If we don’t make a conservative [sic – he meant a ‘conserving’] effort, then we will loose much of our heritage.  And possibly worse, the differences in concepts between askenazic and sephardic will become blurred.  Both cultures have such rich traditions that it would be a sad day to see them lost.

 

“For me personally, I am officially 1/2 sephardic and 1/2 askenazic.  I admit, my practices are generally askenazic and my foods are sephardic.  I am attempting to learn more about sephardic traditions and then deciding what I want to adopt and what I don't.  One time I saw a sephardic person kissing their hand after he shook the hand of another.  I learned that that was a traditional sign of respect.  I tried that once and did not feel that fit me right.  So… I too struggle and need to decide what parts I take on and what I do not.  Probably too late for me to teach my children....but there is always the next go around.  :)

 

“But the other side of the coin are the hard core individuals that believe their way is the only way.  I have been in circles and feel like "I am the goy" in the room because the way I follow Judaism is not "enough." in their eyes.  So, in some circles, yes, I believe your writer's method would be considered "offensive."  But I think that can be controlled with the writer's lineage.  If they are of judeo spanish descent…then their following would be encouraged.  If not of judeo spanish descent and just "like" sephardic style, the writer would be seen as an outsider.

 

“I am not sure if my ideas above make sense or not.  I would absolutely welcome someone who is a "sephardic" wannabe and not be offended at all.  However, in some circles, perhaps the ultra orthodox or in Israel, it would be problematic.”

 

Again, it’s important to go out to see what the people see and want.  Thanks for allowing me to quote my friend here.

I do not know when the term “haredi” came to describe those in Israel – and in various parts of the Diaspora – who are most scrupulous about their Jewish observance, and demand that other Jews observe the same way.  There is the hubris connected with the term that suggests that if anyone observes Judaism in ways different from a haredi person, they are less Jewish, or not Jewish at all.

 

If I would estimate, by my various visits to Israel, when this term came into use, I would guess that this term grew into common usage among the Israeli population after the Six Day War, when religious Zionists were seized by a great enthusiasm for settling in and holding onto occupied territories.  It is often a derogatory term when used, obviously, outside of the Orthodox community.

 

As background:  The word “haredi” comes from the Hebrew bible; Brown-Driver-Briggs’ “Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament” defines the verb “h-r-d” as “trembling,” “being terrified,” or “being startled.”  It somehow morphed to mean ‘ultra Orthodox,’ or ‘ultra observant.’  In this respect, it is quite close to the Hebrew root “y-r-a,” or “fear/revere.”

 

I disagree with the premise of your question, that there is difference between a “fanatic” and “more moderate Haredim.”  I think the phrase ‘moderate haredi’ is an oxymoron; that is, someone who is called haredi, or uses that term about himself, is already far beyond the border of ‘moderate,’ and has gone to fanatic.  I would say that, at least in English, the word “ultra Orthodox” is different from haredi.  “Ultra Orthodox” implies a state of person observance; “haredi” implies someone who has not only adopted a strict Orthodox life for himself, but has gone to the extreme of cutting off from his life any non-Orthodox person or practice.  In other words, ‘haredi’ is the most extreme of individual, advocating for nothing less from his life.

 

To sum up, I think the terms “haredi” and “ultra Orthodox” can be used to describe different levels of religious zeal, the former nationalistic and exclusivist, the latter personal and not being pushed upon others.

 

Your question represents a set of complex issues, as you may imagine. Questions about personal status and the Israeli “Law of Return” are not easily answered; anyone looking for an solution to one’s particular status or about any particular situation should personally consult a Rabbi. Therefore, my answer below should only be read for general information and discussion purposes.

 

If we were to take a look at Jewish identity only through the eyes of Torah, we would see that membership in the nation of Israel was usually defined as someone from one of the twelve tribes of Israel, an situation that suggests male lineage. Foreign women would be taken in battle and, if they were virgins, were brought under tribal protection, made wives, and presumably raised children that were part of that particular tribe or nation of Israel.

 

When Israel was in exile (that is, after the fall of the Second Temple), there was a change, and Jewish identity (a better word may be “identification”) was seen as something passed down through the mother. This was because foreign conquerors would take Israelite women, impregnate them forcibly, and imprison or kill the males. Any children from those forced liaisons would be called Israelites or Jews because, as the old saying goes, ‘we know who the mother is, but we don’t know who the father is.” In later years, husbands became merchants and may disappear on long voyages after their wives became pregnant. Here, too, we know the identity of the mother, but the missing father’s identity could be in doubt.

 

Conversion to Judaism has always been a fact of Jewish life, and Jewish identity can also be acquired through this set of religious education, orientation, and rituals.

 

These later guidelines (Jewish mother or halachic conversion) became, for the Rabbis of our tradition, the sine qua non of Jewish identity, and remained so up until 1983. In that year, following many years of discussion about Jewish identity in an era of growing intermarriage, the Central Conference of American Rabbis – the organization of the Rabbis of the American Reform movement – debated and decided that Jewish identity could come through either the mother or the father.

 

The wording of that particular decision concludes in this way: “The Central Conference of American Rabbis declares that the child of one Jewish parent is under the presumption of Jewish descent. This presumption of the Jewish status of the offspring of any mixed marriage is to be established through appropriate and timely public and formal acts of identification with the Jewish faith and people. The performance of these mitzvot serves to commit those who participate in them, both parent and child, to Jewish life.

 

“Depending on circumstances, mitzvot leading toward a positive and exclusive Jewish identity will include entry into the covenant, acquisition of a Hebrew name, Torah study, Bar/Bat Mitzvah, and Kabbalat Torah (Confirmation). For those beyond childhood claiming Jewish identity, other public acts or declarations may be added or substituted after consultation with their rabbi.”

 

You can read this resolution at http://www.ccarnet.org/rabbis-speak/resolutions/1983/status-of-children-of-mixed-marriages-1983/.

 

As far as Jews are concerned, Israel grants citizenship to any Jewish person immediately upon entry to the country, if so desired. There was a period of time in the late 80’s and 90’s when Jews converted in the Diaspora were refused automatic citizenship. Much of the rationale for these refusals were based on the fact that conversions were presided over by non-Orthodox Rabbis. Since then, Israeli authorities have granted citizenship to Jews who were converted outside of Israel, but insist on stiff guidelines for conversions that occur inside the country. These latter conversions need to be halachically supervised and approved.

 

Another wrinkle in Israeli procedure is that the authorities make a distinction between “citizenship” for purposes under the Law of Return, and Jewish identity. Any Jew can become a citizen, but since Israeli identity documents list the religion of the person, those who convert in other-than-Orthodox manners are not granted the title “Jew,” but rather (and I could be wrong here, and I did not find an authority on this question) “Israeli.” I believe that the title “Jew” is conferred only by those involved with halachic conversions and conversion procedures.

 

These matters are quite fluid, with Israeli religious and civil courts ruling from year to year. But again, from the standpoint of the question – which asked about “Israeli citizenship” – any Jew is entitled to be a citizen under the Law of Return.

 

I do find, however, that those who are “confused about the truth of God” can allay their confusion by taking up the challenge of wondering for themselves about the reality – or non-reality – of God. Those who feel inertia in relationship to this issue, and those who are paralyzed with indecision – in my experience – would tend to be the most confused, or the most affected by claims and counterclaims about God.

 

In the Abrahamic or monotheistic religious communities, there are at least five major ideas about God that one might investigate and/or evaluate. The first is whether God created the world. Second, whether those acts of creation occurred over six 24-hour days. Third, whether God intervenes in the world today, in the same way that the Bible or Qur’an describes. Fourth, whether God cares about what occurs in the world or the universe. And fifth, whether God wants us to do anything about the imperfections that we perceive.

 

The problem tends to be that certain religious communities, especially those that limit questions about God, require the individual to arrive at a uniform set of answers to these five questions. Certainly in Judaism we believe that we can evaluate these questions independently from one another, and that even Jews of great religious observance may come up with different answers.

 

Judaism has few mitzvot (“commandments”, or “sacred obligations”) that refer directly to beliefs; the vast majority of mitzvot refer to behaviors and actions. ‘Belief’ in Judaism is present, and it evolves through the actions we perform. Since each of us performs different actions, our beliefs will be different from one another. Our beliefs will be based upon our varied experiences, not upon one common (read: narrow) set of pre-defined guidelines.

 

Just as our patriarchs and matriarchs had different understandings of God, so, too, can we.

Question:  According to Jewish law and custom, may I buy a plastic Buddha head for a house decoration?

 

The Second Commandment clearly proscribes the worship of the images of other gods, and many may suggest that this commandment also eliminates the possibility even of ownership of these images:  “You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below.  You shall not bow down to them or worship them, for I, the Eternal your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments” (Exodus 20:4-6).

 

You may wish to completely search your motivations for having this “house decoration” among your possessions.  Is it a religious relic that you somehow wish to honor, or is it part of a Buddhist ‘shrine’ that you have set up for you or another member of your family?  If so, this would be contrary to Jewish religious law and custom, unless you or others may be wondering about conversion.

 

Is it part of a kitschy collection of various kinds of symbols, religious or otherwise, that you wish to display?  If so, it would be inappropriate to include a plastic Buddha in such a display, as it could be seen as an insult to people of another religious community.  I doubt that anyone of real faith would approve of having their cherished religious symbols included in a satirical display or parody of religion.

 

I think that you may want to shy away from this particular expression.  I am not sure that I can think of any rationale for having this included in one’s Jewish home.

These acts may be relevant to the observant communities who practice them, but to those communities who do not follow the halachah, they are irrelevant.

 

In the ancient Near East, these laws were important where, upon the death of a leader or patriarch, property needed to remain within the clan. Property was bequeathed to the surviving children, and children needed to exist in order to inherit the birthright and legacy of the parents. If no child existed, the property could otherwise be lost.

 

Today the laws and customs of inheritance are observed differently, and property does not need to remain within a clan, at least in our society.

 

From a religious point of view, Judaism has seen a gradual decline of yibum in favor of halitzah; most contemporary observant Jewish communities strongly discourage yibum. However, for observant Jews, they believe they must minimally follow the ceremony of halitzah, because God commanded it.

 

This is the relevant passage from Deuteronomy 25:5-10: “If brothers are living together and one of them dies without a son, his widow must not marry outside the family. Her husband’s brother shall take her and marry her and fulfill the duty of a brother-in-law to her. The first son she bears shall carry on the name of the dead brother so that his name will not be blotted out from Israel. However, if a man does not want to marry his brother’s wife, she shall go to the elders at the town gate and say, “My husband’s brother refuses to carry on his brother’s name in Israel. He will not fulfill the duty of a brother-in-law to me.” Then the elders of his town shall summon him and talk to him. If he persists in saying, “I do not want to marry her,” his brother’s widow shall go up to him in the presence of the elders, take off one of his sandals, spit in his face and say, “This is what is done to the man who will not build up his brother’s family line.” That man’s line shall be known in Israel as ‘The Family of the Unsandaled’.”

 

In so saying, the Torah reflected the needs of the land of Israel in the year 600 BCE. But by the Rabbinic era, the practice of levirate marriage was frowned upon, and halitzah was encouraged over yibum.

 

A difference of opinion appeared among the later authorities, however, with Spanish authorities mostly upholding the custom, while Rabbeinu Tam supporting halitzah. If the surviving brother were married, Ashkenazim, who follow the takanah of Rabbi Gershom abolishing polygamy, would be compelled to perform halitzah.

 

In modern times Orthodox Jews have generally upheld the position of Rabbeinu Tam and perform halitzah rather than yibbum; Conservative Judaism formally retains it; Reform Judaism and Reconstructionist Judaism have abolished it.

The Mishnah was composed very early in the history of the Rabbinic sources: It began as an oral tradition, and was only written down upon the permission – some might say insistence – of Rabbi Yehudah Hanasi (Rabbi Judah the Prince) in or about the year 200 CE. Therefore we have to assume that this benediction (“berachah” in English) is at least from the Second century if not earlier. We do not know its precise origins, but this seems to be the earliest mention of it in tradition.

 

(Origins of this prayer might hearken back to Deuteronomy 8:10: “When you have eaten and are sated, then you will bless the Eternal your God for the good land which [God] has given you,” as this is a reminder of the gratitude that we should express to God for all God’s beneficence. But it is uncertain whether this or any particular Tanakh quote is the inspiration for Shehecheyanu.)

 

There is much discussion - and natually some disagreement - within the sources about when and under what circumstances we say "Shehecheyanu.” That is, we might say this blessing when acquiring new property, at a holiday that we observe annually, when we perform certain sacred obligations (mitzvot), or even at special and unique moments in our lives that occur only very occasionally. But as to its dating, it appears first in the Mishnah, as mentioned above.

 

I have officiated at many funerals – some had military honors, and some did not – where the family proudly draped the United States’ flag on the casket of their deceased veteran. These families are proud of their loved one’s service to their country, and with the Rabbi's help are able to mesh both military and religious ritual together. Those involved in planning a service for a loved one should definitely speak to their Rabbi about how best to carry this out.

 

The flag is usually placed on the casket prior to the start of the funeral ceremony, and then removed just before the burial process begins. Where there are military honors to be offered, there is an honor guard who formally removes the flag, folds it crisply, and presents it to the family. It is a very appropriate honor.

The question of using erotica to “help with arousal” – or for any other purpose – cuts across many lines. Since my field of study is Jewish law, I will try to address your question where Jewish law might play a part. But the other areas for consideration should be noted as well:

 

First, what kind of “porn” do you refer to? Is it material that degrades men and/or women? Was it produced with people who are legally permitted to be involved in its production? Is it produced, indeed, to help with arousal, or might it have other purposes that you don’t know about? Was it manufactured legally, and is it legally available in your jurisdiction? Could her or your desire to use erotica to stimulate one another turn into an obsession or addiction, or can you use it appropriately for your private use, and then put it away from you, and from the eyes of underage people?

 

Given the nature of our society and the availability of both erotica and pornography, these are important considerations over and above what personal value this material has to you or to your wife. So please consider my response to you only the beginning of an answer that would provide the guidance you need to address your needs.

 

The Sages of our tradition would not have known, of course, about pictures, films, VHS’s and DVD’s, Internet videos, and other modern manifestations of material that can help with arousal. But from some of their writings about the purpose of human sexuality, we can discern some attitudes about the need for sexually satisfying a partner.

 

The major aspect of your question deals with using the images of another man or woman engaged in some sexual act to arouse her (or you). One small place in Tradition may lend a view, but it is not conclusive by any means: In Nedarim 20b, we find this brief reference in a discussion of intimacy and sexuality: “Rabbi taught: One may not drink out of one goblet and think of another. Rabina said: This is necessary only when both are his wives.” So one should not think of one wife while engaging in sexual intercourse with another. On its face this applies to a very different time and society. However, one might draw connections between this text and the erotic renderings of film or print – i.e., thinking of another – when being involved sexually with your usual partner. However, I say this passage is inconclusive, because the text here names singular authorities, whose named responses to these questions are usually not ‘the law.’ (The ‘law’ is usually an anonymous citation.)

 

Just above this passage, in Talmud Nedarim 20a-b, there is a small midrash that might advise you further in your question. “Rabbi Johanan ben Dahabai said: ‘The Ministering Angels told me four things: People are born lame because they [their parents] overturned their table [i.e., practiced unnatural intercourse, whatever that might mean]; dumb, because they kiss “that place” [prohibition of oral sex]; deaf, because they converse during cohabitation; and blind, because they look at “that place.”’ But this contradicts the following: Imma Shalom [wife of Rabbi Eliezer ben Hyrkanos and a sister of Gamaliel II] was asked: ‘Why are your children so exceedingly beautiful?’ She replied: ‘[Because] he [my husband] “converses” [euphemism for intercourse] with me neither at the beginning nor at the end of the night, but [only] at midnight; and when he “converses,” he uncovers a handbreadth and covers a hand breadth, and is as though he were compelled by a demon. And when I asked him, “What is the reason for this [for choosing midnight]?,” he replied, “So that I may not think of another woman, lest my children be as bastards.”’ There is no difficulty: this refers to conjugal matters; the other refers to other matters.”

 

This paragraph contains many hints and allusions to the question you raise. First is the question of modesty: This passage implies that where one might think that seeing one’s naked body or sexual organs might be thought of as wrong, it is not. Secondly, that various sexual positions are possible. Third, that using various means of stimulating someone is possible and permissible. And fourth, that as one engages in sexuality, one should ultimately be focused on one’s partner and not another, though here again the Talmud refers to thinking of one wife while pleasing another, a situation that we do not encounter much in our world, and certainly not in mainline Jewish practice.

 

I would like to refer you to an online resource that may address some questions that you have. Try http://www.jewfaq.org/sex.htm, and you will have many more ideas and thoughts about what traditional Judaism says about sexuality.

 

At this site, they say this, to start: “In Jewish law, sex is not considered shameful, sinful or obscene. Sex is not thought of as a necessary evil for the sole purpose of procreation [as it is in other religions]. Although sexual desire comes from the yetzer ra (the evil impulse), it is no more evil than hunger or thirst, which also come from the yetzer ra. Like hunger, thirst or other basic instincts, sexual desire must be controlled and channeled, satisfied at the proper time, place and manner. But when sexual desire is satisfied between a husband and wife at the proper time, out of mutual love and desire, sex is a mitzvah.

 

“Sex is permissible only within the context of a marriage. In Judaism, sex is not merely a way of experiencing physical pleasure. It is an act of immense significance, which requires commitment and responsibility. The requirement of marriage before sex ensures that sense of commitment and responsibility. Jewish law also forbids sexual contact short of intercourse outside of the context of marriage, recognizing that such contact will inevitably lead to intercourse.

 

“The primary purpose of sex is to reinforce the loving marital bond between husband and wife. The first and foremost purpose of marriage is companionship, and sexual relations play an important role. Procreation is also a reason for sex, but it is not the only reason. Sex between husband and wife is permitted (even recommended) at times when conception is impossible, such as when the woman is pregnant, after menopause, or when the woman is using a permissible form of contraception.”

 

I think that the most important issue for you to address – for yourselves – is the mutual comfort level you have about the use of erotica for sexual stimulation. If you are both interested in this, and find that you can use it truly with no ill effects, then there should be no problem. But if one partner finds the material objectionable for some reason it may not be appropriate for you.

 

I wish you success in your marriage and sexual explorations with one another.

 

At first blush, some may recoil from even the consideration of such reciprocal thinking. After all, we carelessly teach our children that “two wrongs never make a right.” But know that as seemingly colloquial as this saying is, this principle stands out clearly in Jewish teachings. We learn this general rule from Mishnah Shekalim 3:2, which states that “One must behave before all creatures as one must before God, as it is written in Torah (Numbers 32:22) ‘You shall be clean (guiltless) before the Eternal and Israel,’ as it says (Proverbs 3:4) ‘So will you find grace and right thinking in the sight of God and humanity.’” Or to use a dictum from our sage Hillel, “That which is hateful to you do not do to your neighbor” (Shabbat 31a).

 

On the other hand, some could argue that jailed Hamas militants fall into the category of “rodef,” that is, one who pursues another with intent to murder; the Talmud states in Berakhot 62b that “If someone is coming to kill you, rise up first and kill this person.” Similar to all many laws, however, this teaching comes with restrictions. The one most pertinent to your question may be that one must do the least harm necessary to stop the rodef from murdering: In Sanhedrin 57a, we learn that one who kills (my emphasis) a rodef when breaking a limb would have sufficed is liable for capital punishment.

 

According to Rabbi Jill Jacobs, “Some halakhic authorities have argued that a POW or suspected terrorist may be considered a rodef, and may therefore be harmed as a means of extracting information that has the potential to save lives.”

 

(http://www.myjewishlearning.com/beliefs/Issues/War_and_Peace/
Combat_and_Conflict/Ethics_of_Jewish_War/Prisoners_of_War.shtml?BFIS).

 

But it is also important to cite the decision of Israel’s Supreme Court regarding the application of this guideline while weighing it against other democratic principles. In 1999, the Court stated: “Although a democracy must often fight with one hand tied behind its back, it nonetheless has the upper hand. Preserving the Rule of Law and recognition of an individual's liberty constitutes an important component in its understanding of security. At the end of the day, they strengthen its spirit and its strength and allow it to overcome its difficulties.”
(http://www.myjewishlearning.com/beliefs/Issues/War_and_Peace/
Combat_and_Conflict/Ethics_of_Jewish_War/
Prisoners_of_War/Israeli_Supreme_Court_Decision.shtml?BFIS).

 

The Geneva Convention relating to prisoners of war takes great pains to define “prisoners of war,” and to mandate certain behavior toward them. Article 13 states this: “Prisoners of war must at all times be humanely treated. Any unlawful act or omission by the Detaining Power causing death or seriously endangering the health of a prisoner of war in its custody is prohibited, and will be regarded as a serious breach…prisoners of war must at all times be protected, particularly against acts of violence or intimidation and against insults and public curiosity. Measures of reprisal against prisoners of war are prohibited.”

 

Article 14 may also contain important guidelines for us to consider: “Prisoners of war are entitled in all circumstances to respect for their persons and their honour…Prisoners of war shall retain the full civil capacity which they enjoyed at the time of their capture. The Detaining Power may not restrict the exercise, either within or without its own territory, of the rights such capacity confers except in so far as the captivity requires."

 

In the final analysis, one must consider the specific privileges that were removed by virtue of the Prime Minister’s act, and evaluate whether having eliminated them results in a violation of the Geneva Convention, relevant Jewish teachings, or a ruling of the Israeli Supreme Court. I do not know specifically which privileges you speak about, so I cannot make that determination. However, one must use Jewish principles and the guidance of our tradition – and the good sense that God gave us – to determine any particular course of action. Whether you feel “justified” by the Prime Minister’s actions is up to you.

 

The more important aspects of Naama Shafir’s basketball career with the University of Toledo are her consistency both on and off the court, and her willingness to maintain loyalty to Judaism while still pursuing her dreams.  I believe that these characteristics alone qualify her as a role model.  Not knowing her, I can only guess that, in addition to these, she is admired by her team, her family, and her colleagues and peers in Israel, who have undoubtedly been watching her career from afar.  It is heartening to know that someone can uphold religious and human values in such a competitive and secularly concerned world.

 

I am not intimately familiar with the situation, but in reading online articles about her and her coming to the United States to play and learn in the University setting, I believe that another important value that she exhibited was her straightforwardness in securing the right conditions under which she could play.  Through research, interviews, and a disappointment here and there, she found a school that would adapt to her needs and desires, which included the willingness to schlep Kosher food along on road trips, avoiding the scheduling practice on Shabbat (see below the a Rabbinic opinion about practice), and dress/modesty restrictions.  It seems that the University of Toledo was more than willing to make concessions for her.

 

Your question makes an assumption about a so-called ‘violation’ of the Shabbat restrictions by playing.  I do not know what ‘apparent violations’ you are referring to, but it is noteworthy that Chaim Burgansky, the Rabbi of Hoshaya, her hometown community in the Jezriel Valley in the Galilee, has provided approval for her playing.  He as been quoted as saying, “The halachic rationale is based on the fact that although the Halacha says that it’s forbidden to jump and run on Shabbat, someone who derives pleasure from it can do it.  But exercise is forbidden.  Practice is in the category of ‘exercise’ and therefore forbidden, but the game itself is fun for the player.  Who wants to sit on the bench?”   (http://www.forward.com/articles/136770/)  Note that Hoshaya is a religious community – they list themselves online as ‘dati leumi’, which I interpret informally as supporting the National Religious Party.

Question:  What does Yom Haatzmaut mean to proudly identified American Jews?  Is it purely an Israeli holiday which we celebrate vicariously as allies / co-religionists, or is the creation of Israel something to celebrate even if my personal values do not include ever living there?

Yom Haatzmaut, or Israel’s Independence Day, is being celebrated for the sixty-third time today, the 5^th day of Iyar, corresponding this year to May 9.  (In 1948, the 5^th day of Iyar corresponded to May 14.)  The creation and existence of the state of Israel is the fulfillment of a two thousand year old vision that each self-identifying Jew can and should celebrate.

Israel has been a home to oppressed refugees, and she has been a place where the potential exists to realize all of the aspirations mentioned in Israel’s Declaration of Independence, a model of a democracy that could lead the world in prestige and dignity.

But more than that: She has grown into an economic powerhouse, a biblical treasure trove of historical and spiritual significance, and – this is the real value to American as well as other Jews, the ‘kicker,’ as it were – a resource for the strengthening of Jewish values and identity of Jews all over the world.

It is the opinion of some Jews that Israel has not always lived up to her potential; of course, who among us does?!  How much the more so, then, do we have the responsibility to love and support Israel, learn about her, understand her finery and her flaws, and continue to explore the meaning of the land and its relationship to us who live outside of Israel.  In that way, we can help her to live up to her and our expectations, and she can become that ‘beacon of light to all nations’ that Isaiah spoke about (42:6).

As a people that was hounded and hurried from land after land, and persecuted and oppressed as a minority, we can honor those who have made their lives in Israel, and those who support her from lands in other parts of the globe.  There is a high likelihood in our era that not all Jews will move to Israel.  Israelis feel fine with that.  But with that particular set of realities, that is, with equally powerful Israeli and Diaspora Jewish communities, there needs to be developed the right kind of relationship that allows both communities to support one another in both their Jewish and secular missions.

The ‘prayer for Israel’ that many Jews say each week when reading the Torah calls the land “reishit tzmichat g’ulateinu,” or in English “the beginning of the blossoming of our redemption.”  In this sense, she is a beginning for what can be a beautiful future if and when she receives the support that she needs.  This must come primarily from Jews in America and elsewhere.  I invite you to make a commitment to visit, to learn, and to support Israel.  What a great way to celebrate her Independence Day!

Question:  “I am very distressed about the recent, very public racism coming from Israeli rabbis and their wives – about not selling houses to Arabs, or urging young Israeli women to stay far away from Arab men, who are ostensibly trying to entrap them.  The language used was incendiary and completely racist.  Is this really how Judaism wants us to relate to non-Jews?”

 

 

 

The short answer to your question is “no”.  Judaism does not want us to relate to any non-Jews in this manner.  I think that what we’re seeing in Israel might be a reaction of racism and fright, and is certainly not supported by text of Torah.  And most Jews would refuse to act toward any non-Jew in this manner.  Here is why:

 

 

 We learn at least 37 times in the Torah that the treatment of the poor, the widow, the orphan, and the stranger is a major priority, and that none of these classes of people should be abused or mistreated.  In Zechariah we find, perhaps, the clearest statement available in the Hebrew bible:  “The word of the Eternal came again to Zechariah; this is what the Eternal God said: ‘Administer true justice; show mercy and compassion to one another.  Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the foreigner or the poor.  Do not plot evil against each other.”

One would have to ask the Orthodox Rabbis who put forward those proposals as to the reason for their racism and fear.  They would claim that the goal of maintaining control over the whole of the biblical ‘land of Israel’ is of such importance that acting on their fears is justified.  But very few Jews would think this would be a moral and ethical thing to do, and many Orthodox Jews in Israel decried this suggestion.  So there are many who disagree with the rulings of these four Rabbis…and Judaism in no way supports prejudice of this kind.

There surely seems to be a difference (read: clash) of values between you and your parents on this subject.  For you, you wish either to restrain what could be perceived as conspicuous consumption or to use your (your family’s?) financial resources in other ways. 

For your parents, they are elated at your upcoming marriage.  They either want to have a blowout celebration or, as you describe them as “very upper middle class and slaves to society”, they may have a range of social obligations to repay.  You may also have a very large family that needs hosting if you all anticipate or desire a weekend of events.  A large party can fulfill these or other needs, of which you may or may not be aware. 

From a Jewish standpoint, we sure would not want resources to be used inappropriately, and much of Jewish law frowns upon ostentation.  Jewish law and custom surely approves of the acquisition of wealth, but those who attain it should use it to help others (tzedakah, that is), and not use it for personal advancement or aggrandizement.  Deuteronomy (15:10) reminds us that we should “give generously to them [the needy] and do so without a grudging heart; then because of this the Eternal your God will bless you in all your work and in everything you put your hand to”.  Other similar references can be found in Isaiah 1:17-19 and Proverbs 19:17.

When it comes to displays of wealth, the Talmud takes a view that unnecessary ostentation leads to envy and, perhaps, to anti-Semitism.  When in Genesis 42:1, Jacob wonders about why his sons just sort of stand around looking at one another and doing nothing during the famine, the Rabbis of the Talmud give a slightly different spin to Jacob’s observation.  In Babylonian Talmud Ta’anit 10b, this was Jacob’s speech to his sons:  “Do not show yourselves to be sated either before Esau or Ishmael in order that you do not arouse their envy against you”.  Some read these words as warnings about the Israelites displaying their wealth to the nations around them.

Another reason to restrict the display of one’s wealth, as we read in tradition, is to protect the poor, who would not otherwise have the means, of trying to “keep up” with others in society.  Some may consider borrowing far beyond their means, and others might even engage in illegal or unethical behavior to achieve what they see in others.

In an article, “The Simple Life: The Case Against Ostentation in Jewish Law”, Hershey H. Friedman, Professor of Business and Marketing at Brooklyn College of the City University of New York, brings forward this interesting passage from Babylonian Talmud Mo’ed Katan (27a-27b) regarding the changes that were enacted in the funeral ceremony in order not to humiliate the poor [http://www.jlaw.com/Articles/againstosten.html]:

“Formerly, they would bring food to the house of mourners in following manner: to the rich, in baskets of gold and silver, and to the poor in wicker baskets made of peeled willows.  And the poor people were ashamed.  The sages therefore instituted that all should be provided with food in wicker baskets made of peeled willows out of deference of the poor. 

Formerly, they would provide drinks to the house of mourners in the following manner: to the rich, in white glass [which was very expensive], and to the poor in colored glass.  And the poor people were ashamed.  The sages therefore instituted that all should be provided with drinks in colored glass out of deference to the poor.

Formerly, they would uncover the face of the rich [corpse], and cover the face of the poor because their face became blackened by famine.  And the poor people were ashamed.  The sages therefore instituted that all faces should be covered out of deference to the poor.

Formerly, they would carry out the rich [corpse] in a state bed and the poor on a common bier.  And the poor people were ashamed.  The sages therefore instituted that all should be carried out on a common bier out of deference to the poor…”

Finally a conspicuous display of wealth can lead to conceit and haughtiness, characteristics that the Rabbis wanted us to avoid.  The most common passage in Torah on this subject is this one from Deuteronomy 8:10-18:

“When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the Eternal your God for the good land God has given you.  Be careful that you do not forget the Eternal your God, failing to observe God’s commands, laws, and decrees that I give you this day.  Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down; when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, your heart will become haughty and you will forget the Eternal your God who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.  It was God who led you through the vast and dreadful wilderness, that thirsty and waterless land, with its venomous snakes and scorpions.  It was God who brought you water out of hard rock.  It was God who gave you manna to eat in the wilderness, something your ancestors had never known, to humble and test you so that in the end it might go well with you.  Beware that you don’t say to yourself, ‘My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me’.  But remember the Eternal your God, for it is God who gives you the ability to produce wealth, and so confirms God’s covenant, which God swore to your ancestors, as it is today.”

In the final analysis, your parents may do what they want; it sounds as though they are paying for the wedding in any case.  But perhaps you can ask them to tone down the party to reflect their need for social obligations and your desire to make this an appropriate party.  Bear in mind that, in the realm of Jewish celebrations, a wedding is the happiest of occasions that we celebrate, and some people feel they want to go all out for it.

So what can affect the costs?  An afternoon affair is usually less expensive than an evening party.  Certain outdoor venues can be inexpensive or costly; it depends upon demand.  Certain menu selections can be less costly.  So be creative, and also be willing to compromise with your parents on some of these matters.  Your values about avoiding ostentation – for whatever reason – are just as valid as theirs, and you probably should try to meet halfway.

It is an unfortunate reality that we sometimes do not truly know with whom we are communicating, or whether their photograph is authentic, or whether their biographical material is valid, or whether their ‘life story’ is genuine. In my opinion, no one whom you meet online ought to be trusted implicitly, and any communication in which you engage should be done with an eye toward preserving your privacy and your integrity. These communications should be held at arms length.

 

The question suggests a situation where you feel that communication has, indeed, crossed the line to a dubious area. If so, the Seventh Commandment should certainly inform your actions. The sacred obligation of “Do not commit adultery”, in my humble opinion, should refer, in addition to sexual infidelity, to emotional betrayal as well. When one gives one’s heart to someone other than his/her spouse – regardless of whether there has been sexual intimacy – that is an act of adultery. And if the liaison is ‘to allay only some feeling of loneliness’, the perpetrator should look within him/herself to determine the reason for that feeling, and then determine a healthier course of action than one of emotional betrayal.

 

To answer the question directly, the crossing of the line exists when you express an emotional or sexual desire toward that other person, when you confide in that person issues that concern you and your spouse (that you have not shared with your partner), when you plan for an actual get-together, or even sharing (sexual) fantasies with that other person. These are all matters that should remain between partners or spouses, and any violation of these spousal or partnership ties would constitute “crossing the line.”

Your religious behavior may or may not be connected to how you label yourself. The fact that you wish to practice more modesty may, indeed, be a sign of your desire to become more observant and, thereby, move into a different stream of Judaism. On the other hand, your desire for increased amounts of modesty may simply be a reflection of where you are regarding personal comportment.

 

 

 

Question: Jon Stewart called for sanity at his rally in Washington.  Does Judaism provide a path for achieving this?

 

 

Jon Stewart’s call for the ‘restoration of sanity’ in our national discourse is a warning against extremism and excessive rhetoric in politics.  The degree of ‘violence in speech’ of our national debates has increased in the past twenty or so years, and in our day, politicians and pundits have employed pure bullying tactics to assert their points of view.  The tendency of the extreme sides of our political parties and interest groups to substitute volume for rational thought is something that we need to guard against.

 It is absolutely appropriate – from the standpoint of Judaism – to ask tough questions and engage in serious and lively debate about any subject; honest inquiry is certainly part of the Jewish intellectual ethos.  But we must accomplish this goal without reverting to ad hominem attacks .  As has been said, one can disagree without being disagreeable.

Moses Maimonides – the Rambam – writes about the need to achieve the ‘golden mean’, that is, to avoid extremes and strive toward the position of moderation in all that we do.  Whether feeding the various human appetites that we have, or participating in the intercourse of everyday life, our lives are best led when we are modest in our needs and sensible in achieving them.

We can learn much from Jon Stewart’s tongue-in-cheek approach to toning down violent speech in politics.  I would hope that we strive toward the same end in all that we do in life.

I think that proposals for a ban on brit milah, circumcision – – or the fear of such ideas – are the stuff of dystopian science fiction, or zealots run amok.  Then, again, the city of San Francisco has banned toys in fast food products if the food does not meet certain nutrition criteria.  This fast food proposal is not, in my opinion, such a bad thing, but with a track record of – shall we say – unique ideas, there is no telling what might happen in that city by the bay.

As for us, the Jewish people has survived for many years while facing many challenges.  Here is only one example: When our Temple was destroyed by Rome in 70 C.E., we survived without the obligatory sacrifices, instead transmuting them to obligatory prayer.  So I would not believe that such a proposal, if enacted, would hurt the Jewish people, or change to any great extent its essence.  We would find a way to have our traditions survive despite the inability to circumcize our sons.

It is unlikely that this kind of law would be confirmed by higher courts.  Such a proposal would engender countless church-state separation protests and lawsuits, as Jews and Muslims – and perhaps others – would attempt to block the law’s implementation.

 

So I am not fearful that a ban on circumcision would be enacted.  However, if a ban on brit milah were ever to become part of enshrined law, I can only predict that some Jews would honor the ban, and others would circumvent it.  Regardless of what one might feel about circumcision, and there are many Jews who have not followed this mitzvah (today it is estimated that the percentage of Jews circumcising their sons is about 70%), the Jewish tradition of brit milah would continue, among both the more and less observant.  Jews would find a way to persevere in the face of such a restriction.

Since I have not read this memoir, I cannot comment on whether this was Barbara Bush's way of teaching him “about matters such as pregnancy and its potential complications”.  I don’t know whether it was her intention to teach him about the development of the fetus, or the effects of miscarriage or abortion, or some other area.  If it were her intention to teach about the complications of pregnancy, I guess I would question whether any parent should take tissue from her/his own body and display it for that purpose.

 In my opinion, there are far better methods for teaching learners at various ages about human reproduction; issues surrounding miscarriage, both medical and religious; abortion; birth control; sexually transmitted infections and diseases; and the like.  Age-appropriate materials are available from the Reform movement of Judaism, as well as from the United Church of Christ.  Both of these organizations have well thought-out curricula for these subjects and people involved in religious communities should definitely be involved in learning and teaching these subjects.

 Judaism has always believed that teaching young people is done case-by-case, example by example.  What this means is that each child is different, and therefore the manner in which you teach one child is unique, and unlike the next.  The midrash surrounding the Four Children of the Passover Seder is a prime example of this:

 The Wise Child is taught carefully the laws of the seder, because s/he is ready to receive all of the wisdom and knowledge of the Torah.  The Wicked Child is taught, literally, by “blunting his/her teeth", that is, giving a blow to the face (see a literal translation of the Passover Hagaddah for the details).  The Simple Child we teach simply and straightforwardly, and for the One Who Does Not Know How to Ask, we simply say that ‘we were freed from slavery’ and then we listen to the child to guide us to the areas about which s/he needs to know.

Another way of teaching is by example.  As parents perform their daily duties and actualize their values, so, too, children will learn and come to emulate their parents. 

Finally exposing young people to notable authorities, male and female, old and young, from various streams of Judaism and covering different philosophies, this demonstrates to young people that there are many different ways to approach any issue, that there is not only one solution to any problem.

Question:  “Some members of Temple Beth Ahm Yisrael in Springfield, N.J., are not happy that their former synagogue building was sold to the Islamic Center of Union County.  Are there any reasons a former Jewish house of worship shouldn't be turned into a different religion's house of worship, or for that matter, anything else?”

 

Our Reform responsa do not address this specific question, that is, the peaceable sale and conversion of a synagogue to a mosque.  And even in Talmud, there does not seem to be any reference to what happens, or how synagogue members should feel, after their Jewish houses of worship change hands.

 

In Babylonian Talmud Avodah Zarah 43b, the text relates the presence of statues of Babylonian emperors in “Shev V’yashiv”, the “sacred synagogue” in Babylon (Contemporary Reform Responsa, Solomon Freehof, 1974, page 46), but that is when the synagogue was still an active place of Jewish worship.  And even in that situation, apparently, famous Babylonian Jewish scholars worshiped there without hesitation (ibid.).

 

There have been many conversions of synagogues to churches in our country – this seems to occur most frequently when Jews leave a certain neighborhood and the next identifiable population moves in – and there did not seem to have been a serious ringing-of-the-hands on those occasions.  In the United States, synagogues have become black churches, banks, white churches, and the like; and synagogues have, themselves, purchased former churches.  In my present community of Madison, Wisconsin, the local Conservative congregation considered the purchase of a former church building, simply because of the need to increase space and accommodate its members in the right facility.  To be sure there are ‘Jewish logistic issues’ to be considered at the time of any construction or building conversion.  On general issues of purchase, ownership, and use, however, there seems to be no historical or halachic prohibition.

 

This is probably not the first occasion of this kind of peaceable conversion of a synagogue to mosque.  Reports that I found online mention a 2008 sale and conversion of Temple Israel of Jamaica (Queens) into Bait-uz-Zafar Mosque; the ceremony of dedication of this edifice took place on October 12^th, 2008, and the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community website notes that the “event, attended by about 100 guests including senators, congressmen, assemblymen, clergy and neighbors, showcased a diverse crowd of Christians, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, and Muslims”.  It should be stated that this movement is apparently not part of mainline Islam, but an offshoot of some variety.  Still, the conversion of this building seems to have happened peacefully with the blessing of most of Temple Israel’s members.  See http://www.ahmadiyya.us/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=488:bait-uz-zafar-inauguration&catid=64.

 

There is a rich history of the forcible seizure of synagogue buildings in the Middle East by Muslims, but this is not the focus of this question.  Perhaps someone else will raise this issue.

 

At the time of the Israeli evacuation of the Gaza Strip in 2005, there seems to have been some synagogue demolition by the Jewish settlers as they departed, but I cannot discern through the reports that I read that there was halachic justification for doing so.  Anecdotal comments regarding the demolition of houses there seem to indicate that the Jewish destruction of these buildings was done in anger and possibly revenge, in order to avoid giving the future Palestinian residents of Gaza ready-made buildings.

 

It should be stated that reports concerning the Temple Beth Ahm Yisrael synagogue sale note that the discontent was from a few-very-vocal members and former members; see http://www.nj.com/news/index.ssf/2010/10/former_union_county_synagogue.html.  Given the current anti-Islamic climate in our nation, it is not surprising to learn of this reaction, yet such reactions must be highlighted for what they are, expressions of prejudice and hatred.  There is no Jewish justification whatsoever for the expressions of this kind of hatred, or any Jewish prohibition about the action that seems to have fostered them.

 

 

Question:   “With the latest news of bombs sent on airplanes to target Chicago synagogues, people are justifiably even more nervous about terrorism than usual.  But how do we reconcile being cautious with appearing in any way racist or prejudiced?”

 

Your question could imply that there is something wrong with feeling anger toward someone who is bent on your destruction.  This impression, of course, would be incorrect.  The Torah, as amplified by later Jewish teaching, is clear about the sanction in favor of self-defense: If someone is pursuing you (“pursuer” is rodef in Hebrew; referenced in Deuteronomy 19 and Babylonian Talmud Sanhedrin 73a) with the intention of killing you, then you are obligated to defend yourself, even potentially to destroy your pursuer.

 

So there is nothing wrong about being “cautious” in these extreme circumstances.  However, what we need to caution ourselves about is attributing terrorist intentions to an entire group or category of people when only a small percentage of them possess such intentions.

 

I think it is fair to say that the object of your question is Islam.  However, it is not Islam that is the culprit here.  Radical Islam, or Islamism as some have called it, is the problem, not only for Jews, but actually for the world.  Radical Muslims have apparently targeted the governments of the United States, France, Israel, and even some Arab countries.  Their aim seems to be the disruption of normal life, and the establishing of a Muslim religious state whereever they dwell.

 

Let us be careful: Prejudice toward Islam supports the canard that Islam is fundamentally at odds with human, American, or Jewish values, an unsupported viewpoint that I, along with most people of good will, refuse to accept or credit.  There is no doubt that individual Muslims have caused grievous harm, but Islam itself is not the enemy, nor are most Muslims in the world.  

The adversary is religious extremism and intolerance for differences, something that we would perpetuate if we were to let feelings of racism dictate how we relate toward the religion of Islam.

 

The Torah, no less than 36 times, instructs us to help “the widow, the orphan, the poor, and the stranger”.  The rationale presented is that since we were strangers in the land of Egypt during the time of our enslavement, we should be able not only to empathize with the needs of these classes of people but also to provide for them and their needs when called upon.
In your situation, however, I would recommend that you provide some direct aid, especially if you live in a climate that will become cold all too soon.  “Direct aid” can mean cash, but I further recommend that you offer some kind of store gift card or gift certificates to local fast food restaurants.  In that way, the person has to use the certificates for food, and cannot use them for alcohol or illicit drugs, which is what some do.  You can also give clothing and other resources that will help a person recognize inside the humanity that God gave to each of us.
It is our obligation to help.  How we help will matter, so do it carefully and thoughtfully.

 

Some feel that the current Jewish response to the death penalty mirrors the liberal trends that the majority of Jews have tended to follow in our society.  In reality, the admittedly liberal Jewish approach to punishment for capital offenses dates back to the time of the Talmud.

I am glad you asked about how “Jewish” values can inform us regarding the death penalty.  If one read only the Hebrew Bible, the “eye for an eye” phrasing of the “lex talionis”, or the principle of retributive justice that appears three times in the Torah (Exodus 21:22, Leviticus 24:19, and Deuteronomy 19:21) is quite clear, and there’d be no question about it.  However, those who follow Judaism – as opposed to ancient Israelite religion – also would have been bound by the decisions of the Talmudic scholars who refused to justify the death penalty except in very rare circumstances.

The Mishnah, in Makkot 1:10, puts forth the following oft quoted reference to the death penalty.  “The Sanhedrin who executes a person once in seven years, is considered ‘pernicious’ (often translated “cruel”).  Rabbi Eliezar ben Azariah said: Even one who does so once in seventy years is considered such.  Both Rabbi Tarphon and Rabbi Akiba said: If we were among the members of the Sanhedrin, a death sentence would never occur.  To which Rabbi Shimon ben Gamaliel said: Such scholars would only increase bloodshed in Israel.”

Those Jews who favor a stiff death penalty based on non-Jewish thinking will – justifiably – point to the statement above of Rabbi Gamaliel to confirm Judaism’s acceptance of the death penalty.  However, the tradition when reading rabbinic texts is that the anonymous ruling is the one that stands (there are exceptions, but this is not one of them), and that those rulings that have authorities cited represent the minority viewpoints.

So if one were to read this section of Mishnah one might conclude that where the death penalty is not favored, it certainly is not prohibited by any means.  And this is probably the correct reading.

The system of justice of the modern state of Israel does, for example, permit the death penalty, but for only one offense: a “crime against humanity”, and has only carried out one such sentence in its 62 year history, that of Adolph Eichmann in 1962.  All other capital offenders in Israel have prison terms as punishment, even those convicted of terrorism.

By the way, the Rabbis of the Talmud recognized early on the futility of carrying out an “eye for an eye” kind of justice.  They realized that this was not true justice, so I might humbly disagree with the premise in your question.  If one disabled a fellow’s eye or hand, the Rabbis thought, there was no use or purpose of disabling the perpetrator’s eye or hand.  Rather, they thought, there should be some kind of compensation for such an injury, and this usually took the form of money or bartered goods.  So even in ancient Israel, there was rarely the literal punishment of “an eye for an eye”.

I am glad you asked this question, though I would certainly differ on your interpretation of the specific biblical reference that you made. (More on that later.)

 

This is a question for which there is no one, authoritative answer. Judaism has, in the distant past, been quite a proselytizing religion, but this occurred primarily in the first millennium of the Common Era, and then the activity seemed to have died out. A Jewish historian of the early First Century, Flavius Josephus, noted the desire for Jewish expansion; the Mishnah and Talmud explicitly permit conversions into Judaism; and the Roman writers Horace, Seneca, Juvenal and Tacitus were among those who seem to have been afraid of it. (A web search might yield pages such as this one: http://mondediplo.com/2008/09/07israel, which should only be the beginning of one’s study on this topic.)

 

In this era, at a time when other religions have long histories of forced conversions, Judaism has stopped all activity for active outreach to non-Jews who are not connected in some way with the Jewish community. Why this is so is connected with the pure act of evangelism as practiced by Christians today and in years gone by.

 

The word “evangelist” means the “bringer of good news’, and referred specifically – at first – to the four Christian Gospel writers who composed their stories about the ministries of Jesus and tales of the the goodness that he brought to the world. The further implication of this term, especially in modern times, is that one who evangelizes brings ‘good news’ of salvation that comes from belief in Jesus’ saving power, a uniquely Christian viewpoint. This ‘salvation’ is from eternal damnation that would come to those who do not believe in Jesus’ salvation.

 

Since the philosophy of Judaism essentially excludes the belief in eternal torment for sinners, and instead believes (1) that sinners can successfully repent if they’re sincere and (2) that everyone will benefit in the “world to come”, there is no need to “save” others by converting them to Judaism.

 

This is the issue that I take with the implication of your question. The book of Jonah cannot be read as referring to Jonah’s mission being one of conversion of the people of Nineveh. Rather, it was one of returning sinners to Godly and goodly ways, not of turning Ninevites into Jews. That was not in Jonah’s mission papers.

 

If you check out Jonah 1:2 and 3:1-4, you will not find “conversion” in Jonah’s orders. You will find a direction from God to seek repentance from the residents of Nineveh. If they did not repent within 40 days, God would destroy the city. The Ninevites repented within one day, following the lead of the King of the city. Jonah was successful in his task, even though he was reluctant at the start, because, he complains to God, he knew that God was compassionate and God would forgive without the effort that Jonah put forth. (You can ask a further question about the message of the book of Jonah if you choose.)

 

The “other books and events in the bible” certainly contain the message of Israelite dominance over the original inhabitants of the land of Canaan (today Israel), but there is doubt over the historicity of the events of the Bible in any case, and these “events” may have been recorded as polemical arguments rather than historical fact. But this, too, is the subject for another question.

 

If there were to be modern-day proselytism of Jews toward non-Jews, I would presume that it would be for the purpose of strengthening the Jewish people, still feeling decimated in the century following the Holocaust. But Jews do not desire to force people to their religion, but rather teach patiently and accept sincere converts when they present themselves.

 

For different motivations, perhaps, the American Reform movement leadership, in the past 15 to 20 years, has initiated Jewish educational programs toward those non-Jews who are married or partnered to Jewish members of synagogues. Synagogue leaders are encouraged by national leadership of the Union for Reform Judaism to suggest – gently – conversion to the non-Jews in their midst who seem to support the programs, worship services, and philosophies of Judaism.

 

Jews, largely, do not feel the need to “witness” to others, as do others in the world marketplace of ideas today. There is a need to replenish the numbers of Jews following the loss of the Six Million, but this will occur over time with the remnant that remains. And even among those Jews who feel keenly the loss of people following World War II, they are content to bring Judaism and strengthen Jewish identity among those already attached to the people of Israel.

Question:  “I truly support Israel, but in this day and age it is difficult to do so, with so much dissent in the news and on the streets.  Where in the Torah does it state that the land of Israel belongs to the Jews?  Does the Torah delineate borders?”

 

In any discussion regarding Israel and her borders, it is important – as you have asked – to consider what the Torah says about the borders of the ancient land of Israel.  It is equally important to consider the ways in which history shaped those borders, and how one should employ ‘wise land usage’ of that territory for bringing peace to Israel and the Middle East.

 

The Torah makes a number of statements regarding the borders, and disposition of the territory, that comprised the so-called “Promised Land”.  In Genesis 12, God directs Abram (later Abraham) to take his family and go to a land that God would show him.  At that point, the narrative does not specifically identify the borders of the land.  After he settles in Canaan (in chapter 13), God instructs Abram to ‘look to the four compass points’ and indicates that as far as Abram can see, those are the boundaries of the land.  God also commands Abram to walk the length and breadth of the land intended for the Israelite people.  And Abram eventually settles, for the moment, in Hebron.

 

Finally, in Genesis 15, we learn the original Biblical limits of the land.  Following the performance of a mystical sacrificial ritual to create the situation for sealing a covenant, there is a description of what God promises to Abram.  “To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the Euphrates: the land of the Kenites, Kenizzites, Kadmonites, Hittites, Perizzites, Rephaites, Amorites, Canaanites, Girgashites and Jebusites.”

 

Other, later Torah references reaffirm these generally drawn borders of the land of Israel.  Most of the descriptions identify this land as an “inheritance”.  See, for example, this passage from Deuteronomy 4:37-38.  “Because God loved your ancestors, God chose their descendants after them, brought you out of Egypt by God’s Presence and his great strength, in order that you would drive out before you nations greater and stronger than you, and to bring you into their land to give it to you for your inheritance, as it is today”.

 

For those individuals – Jews and Christians – who consider the Torah as the absolute and eternal word of God, these borders and the land they encompass are immutable.  For some (not all) Israelis who live on the West Bank, the occupied territories are the eternal possession and inheritance of the Jewish people, and they should never be given over to any other sovereign entity.  They belong exclusively and forever to the Jewish people.

 

However, for others, who see the Torah as either only a dim reflection of the Israelite historical record or as a mixture of ancient legends and a post-exilic (post-500 BCE) vision of a governing model of the Israelite Priestly family, the land is perceived differently.  And especially these days, they understand that territorial compromise may serve to help guarantee peace between parties who have been warring with one another for more than one hundred years.

 

The borders of the biblically defined land of Israel shifted according to the currents of history, the tenor of the times, and/or the true power or intention of the host nation that tolerated Jews in their midst.  Jews may have lived continuously in the land of Israel for many years, but from the Babylonian exile until 1948 CE, they were never in real control of their land (as defined by the Torah).

 

There is no consensus among Jews as to the eventual disposition of this land.  And, as you obviously know, much of the controversy about Israeli and Palestinian claims to the land are focused on interpretations of ancient and contemporary history and claims based on the biblical narrative.

 

The “dissent in the news and on the streets” is a result of the inability of the Israelis and Palestinians to come to an agreement on the borders of the land.  It is not difficult to support Israel even through these trying times, but I would assert that it is through the values of Judaism, and not by simple adherence to the biblical story of our people, that our approach to territorial division should be made.  But that begins an answer to another potential question that someone may ask on Jewish Values Online.

Question: “I have heard that my grandma's parents came from Israel.  How do I find out about that?  Does that make me Jewish?”

 

You have asked two different questions, one not necessarily having any connection with the other.

 

First about your great-grandparents’ origins.  Discovering facts about lineage and heritage is a booming business on the Internet these days.  It would not be appropriate to recommend any one site over another, but through a Web search under terms such as “heritage”, “ancestry”, “family tree”, “ellis island”, you may be able to find the correct resources for investigating the route that your great-grandparents took to and from Israel, to where they bore and raised the family who bore and raised you.

 

Jewish identity is something completely different from the place of one’s origins.  Your Jewish identity is dependent upon the Jewish identity of your parents, and their Jewish identity is dependent upon their parents’ Jewish background.  So for your personal Jewish investigation, you should be in touch with members of your family for their remembrances of the origins of your family.

 

There are histories and customs within the Jewish community about Jewish identity, and let me summarize briefly here.

 

In biblical days, it was the practice of the ancient Israelite community to assign tribal identity to the child based upon the tribe of the father.  Property inheritance rights and, in the case of the tribe of Levi, priestly lineage all came through the father’s identity.  Also, as the Israelite community grew, it became the custom to assimilate non-Israelite women into the tribes of Israel.  Accordingly, one born into the Israelite people had their Israelite identity inherited from the tribe of the father, since the mothers were usually from foreign or uncertain origins.

 

In Rabbinic times, this practice was reversed.  There were many instances where the men of the Jewish community, now engaged in international commerce, were gone for long periods of time and/or disappeared altogether, and the mothers might have had children whose fathers were now gone.  In addition, invaders would come to the land of Israel, or to Diaspora communities, committing acts of rape, which resulted in children whose fathers’ lineage was at best uncertain, and at worst foreign.  To affirm the Jewish identity of those children, the custom changed to follow the lineage of the mother, the understanding was that “you always know who the mother is”.  This was the accepted practice for nearly 1700 years or so.

 

In modern times, the Reform rabbinate of American Judaism, partially responding to the effects of intermarriage and hoping to nonetheless maintain the Jewish identity of children from mixed marriages, expanded the definition of Jewish identity.  In a resolution in 1983 (http://data.ccarnet.org/cgi-bin/resodisp.pl?file=mm&year=1983), the Reform rabbinate declared that the Jewish identity of a child would be based upon two factors: that one parent is Jewish, and that the child participates in “appropriate and timely public and formal acts of identification with the Jewish faith and people”.  The entire text of this resolution can be found at the URL above, but is summarized in the two “resolved” paragraphs which I present here:

 

“The Central Conference of American Rabbis declares that the child of one Jewish parent is under the presumption of Jewish descent.  This presumption of the Jewish status of the offspring of any mixed marriage is to be established through appropriate and timely public and formal acts of identification with the Jewish faith and people.  The performance of these mitzvot serves to commit those who participate in them, both parent and child, to Jewish life.

 

“Depending on circumstances, mitzvot leading toward a positive and exclusive Jewish identity will include entry into the covenant, acquisition of a Hebrew name, Torah study, Bar/Bat Mitzvah, and Kabbalat Torah (Confirmation).For those beyond childhood claiming Jewish identity, other public acts or declarations may be added or substituted after consultation with their rabbi.”

 

The final sentence of this resolution is vital, in that one’s Jewish identity ought not to be determined except through discussions with a Rabbi.

 

It is important to say, on the one hand, that Orthodox and Conservative American movements denounced this resolution as being completely outside of Jewish practice, claiming that such a resolution would lead to certain assimilation and dissolution of the Jewish community.  On the other hand, research is beginning to demonstrate that the children of mixed marriages are widely identifying as Jews according to many indices, when they are connected to synagogues that reach out to and accept these families as Jews, providing educational opportunities and permitting participation in the various aspects of their communities.  More information on the current research is available at http://www.joi.org/. 

Question – “Governors and Christian leaders in the Gulf Region called for a day of prayer on behalf of the devastating oil spill.  Why haven't Jewish leaders also come together in prayer over this?  Does Judaism allow prayer in this form?”

 

One could assume, on reading this question, that Jewish leaders have not assembled their resources, sought answers, or guided us regarding this ecological disaster.  The opposite is true.  For current events regarding the Jewish response to this horrendous act of human negligence, you may wish to listen to a recording of a conference call involving leaders of the Reform and Conservative movements who have toured the affected area, and who advocate action.  Go to www.coejl.org/Gulf-Call-07162010-small.mp3.  The Coalition on the Environment and Jewish Life, or COEJL, has become the American Jewish community’s premier resource for ideas, liturgies, and action plans for addressing ecological needs.  See www.coejl.org for further information.

 

You ask further, however, about prayer “in this form.”  Since there are many different kinds of prayer, it would be helpful to see what kinds of prayer the National Association of Evangelicals (National Association of Evangelicals (NAE)) and the Evangelical Environmental Network (Evangelical Environmental Network (EEN)) recommended for the day of prayer, which was July 18, 2010.

 

First comes their call to worship created for the occasion:  They set out “to pray for the crisis in the Gulf of Mexico and its impacts on the people, the water, the land, and all creation.  With one voice and with one heart we join the people living near the American Gulf Coast seeking the power, the wisdom, and the compassion of the God who makes all things possible.  For if God is with us who can be against us.”

 

Next, they quote the second book of Chronicles 7:14 from the Hebrew bible:  “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways, then will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.”

 

They also offer this call-and-response for their congregations:  “We turn to You seeking your direction for a crisis in our nation.  Our brothers and sisters around the Gulf of Mexico struggle in fear, grief, and despair.  Life dreams and vocations have been destroyed for generations to come.  Natural marshes and beautiful lands necessary for life have been affected for decades.  Wildlife, both birds of the air, and creatures of the sea continue to face suffering and death, all because of human induced disaster, the raging oil that spews from a hole in Your earth and pours into Your creation.  Almighty God, forgive us our sin, and renew our lives to be the good stewards as You created us.  And as we turn humbling ourselves, and placing our lives into Your care.  We pray: For the oil flow to stop, give us the wisdom to end this tragedy; for the people in despair that you would provide peace and hope.  We seek restoration for the sea, the land, and all who live and inhabit them.  We turn to you O God for You are our hope, our peace, our joy, and our salvation.”

 

From a historical standpoint, Judaism has for almost two millennia included intercessory prayer in daily worship.  The Tefilah, the central most set of benedictions of our prayerbook, includes in weekday worship thirteen bakashot, or petitionary prayers, that petition God for rain, the restoration of Jerusalem, health for the sick, knowledge and understanding for the individual and the world, justice, and even death for Jews who would report on the activities of other Jews to the non-Jewish civil authorities.

 

Yet today, and in most eras of the past, Judaism well understands that God does not directly intervene in the affairs of humanity when petitioned by people, and that these prayers were metaphorical, or symbolic, at best.  A common phrasing of this understanding is that “God is not a cosmic candy machine into which you place a prayer, and then you receive a reward.”  The language of our worship is figurative and not literally intended to generate expectations of a response.

 

On the other hand, prayer can move the individual’s soul, motivate a person for action, console one at a time of sadness, or heighten one’s joy.  It can move societies, and can help communities determine their joint response to affairs of the day.  In this regard, the prayers of the National Association of Evangelicals mirror very closely some of the intercessory prayers of the Jewish prayerbook.  In my opinion, they are evocative and allow the worshiper to empathize with those in peril.  And when worshipers are, indeed, able to identify with the victims of tragedy, the worshipers are moved to emotion, and then to action.  Perhaps they will help in a practical way, and when they do, they will be performing God’s intervention themselves.

 

As we say, we are God’s partners in the ongoing perfection of the world, and through this kind of worship mechanism is our partnership sealed.

[This is my translation of the two last terms in the verse “l’ovdah ul’shom’rah.” Other translations have “to till it and tend it” (Jewish Publication Society), “to dress it and to keep it” (Keter Press), “to work it and keep it” (Women of Reform Judaism’s ‘A Women’s Commentary’), or “to till it and care for it” (Oxford Study Edition of the New English Bible). In my opinion, the notion of ‘serving’ and ‘preserving’ the land, leads me to believe that our human task is more than simply one of cultivating it (‘till’) or ‘attending’ to it along with anything else under one’s watch (‘tend’), so I use a translation that mirrors my understanding of the text’s intention.]

 

A previous text, however, can actually yield an opposing view. Genesis 1:28 relates that “God blessed them [man and woman] and said to them, "Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and over every living creature that moves on the ground.” These actions would certainly run counter to sustainability.

 

Some employ this text to advance human superiority on earth, but in reality, most of Judaism accepts the idea of the need to sustain our planet. And we find this Genesis chapter 1 passage most concretely refuted in a passage from Midrash. “When the Holy One of Blessing created the first human, God took him and exhorted him about all the trees in the Garden of Eden, saying ‘See My works, see how beautiful and perfect they are, and, by the way, all I created, I created for you. Beware lest you spoil and destroy my world, for if you will spoil it, there is no one to repair it after you’ (Ecclesiastes Rabbah 7:13).” There is clearly this rabbinic bias in favor of preserving our world and its environment.

 

Some Orthodox authorities, I imagine, could point to the need to be scrupulous about certain prohibitions of Shabbat that would run counter to sustainability. The prohibitions of using perforated toilet paper (which as been recycled and is therefore better for the environment) because it tears easily, or using motion sensors for lighting (which could illuminate certain areas only when people are present and save electricity, but whose igniting could violate the Shabbat) are very serious prohibitions for Orthodox Jews, and others. But I would also say that nothing in Judaism forbids us to play a part in sustaining the world we live in.

We do not yet know the answer to these questions, yet I know the world would love to come up with one.  We would think that a truly pious person, one who purports to follow a religious discipline that seeks clear and unequivocal adherence to an ordered society, would have little difficulty in towing the ‘religious line.’  We see evidence each year, however, that supposedly religious people are subject to human frailty.  The Bernard Madoff’s, the Ted Haggard’s, and the Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker’s of the world have great visibility, but they are, by no means, the sole perpetrators of religious and moral lapses. 

The human condition is that God made us imperfect, even though we all possess a part of the divine inside (that is, we are made ‘in God’s image,’ see Genesis 1:26-27).  And the Jewish understanding of life is that we are to constantly search for ways to improve the self.  Maybe this means that imperfection is there to observe, to learn from, and to eradicate in the world.

With these basic understandings set forth as givens, and to address the questions posed above, I would begin by citing an appropriate Mishnah from Pirkei Avot, the collection of wise sayings from the Rabbis of the Talmud:

Pirkei Avot 4:1 – “Ben Zoma said:  Who is wise?  They who learn from everyone.  Who is strong?  They who subdue their aggressivity.  Who is rich?  They who are content with what they have and who they are.  Who is to be honored?  They who honor others.”  (This is my translation that departs somewhat from the plain meaning of the text.  Please consult with the original text for more direct translations and biblical prooftexts.)

Recall that Pirkei Avot is not a book of halachah – Jewish law – that as Jews we’re obliged to follow.  However, these verses of Pirkei Avot point us toward better ways of living and navigating through the world with a more outgoing heart.  It is in this context that I think about the answer to the questions above.

When I read these verses and think about the first question you raise, my initial response is that the human being – without appropriate training or guidance – tends to think more about the self than about others.  These rabbinic words remind us that strength, wealth, wisdom, and honor, instead of being directed toward ourselves, should be directed outward – to others – and this is what makes the person greater, both from the inside and from an outside, objective standpoint.

I would refer to Maslow’s theory of the ‘hierarchy of needs,’ and consider how a person looks to satisfy his/her individual physiological and safety needs long before thinking about others or true self actualization.  On the unconscious level, this focus on the self diverts our thinking toward satisfying our internal needs rather than on how our actions affect the external world.

Some people of great religious fervor take into account how their behavior may benefit them in the ‘next life’ (however one might
conceive that) rather than how they can help others, and may care little about the fact that their actions bring misfortune or pain to others.

Religious discipline, regardless of the religion, tries to bring the behavior of the individual into alignment with what's good for the world.  If one breaks a religious law, however, one eventually finds that there are few disincentives to depart from bad behavior.  In other words, the warnings we find in Torah are not sufficient barriers to sin:  We learn that in the practical world, there is no lightning bolt from heaven or other punishments that the Torah describes.  We receive no negative reinforcement.

In a closed religious community, adherence to religious law is sometimes taken care of by the community itself.  Perpetrators are shunned or excommunicated, and behavior can be controlled in that way.  But in order to influence religious and non-religious people overall to act in a more ethical or moral fashion, we need to teach by doing, and by becoming moral and ethical exemplars for others.  We are not going to change all people who are prone to sin, but we will change some individuals slowly, one person at a time, so that we, by our behavior, will bring some goodness into the world.  In this way, there will be more ethical behavior in the world when we leave it than when we entered it.

Question:  “Did Maimonides believe in an afterlife? Resurrection of the dead?” 

 

 

As in many Jewish questions, there may be more than one answer, and, in this instance, we can answer none of them with one hundred percent certainty.

 

Maimonides (Rabbi Mosheh ben Maimon, or the Rambam as he is commonly called) expressed a number of possibly conflicting theologies in his life, and those who publish biographies of Rambam’s life have differed in their opinion as to the nature of his true beliefs.

 

During his life’s career as a student/teacher of Judaism, Rambam published a seminal philosophical work, the Guide to the Perplexed, as well as his famous commentary to the Mishnah and other works relating to the practice of Judaism.

 

The Guide sought to make coherent the Aristotelian understanding of the nature of God and the theology of the Torah.  It was composed not for the common people, as he said:  “…neither for the common people, nor for beginners, nor for those who occupy themselves only with the Law as it is handed down without concerning themselves with its principles.  The design of this work is rather to promote the true understanding of the real spirit of the Law, to guide those religious persons who, adhering to the Torah, have studied philosophy and are embarrassed by the contradictions between the teachings of philosophy and the literal sense of the Torah.”  (Jewish Encyclopedia, http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/view.jsp?artid=905&letter=M&search=Maimonides#3053, retrieved June 23, 2010).

 

The Aristotelian school – in essence – believed that God existed but as a detached intellectual entity which simply and continually emanated thought.  Thought poured down earthward through a number of spheres (Aristotle believed in three, Rambam thought there were ten), and eventually it entered the physical world resulting in the creation of matter, the world and humanity.  In this paradigm, God exists as a detached thinker unconcerned with the affairs of the earth and the world, and also, by extension, unconcerned with the Jewish people.

 

The Guide contains very little about the question of afterlife and resurrection, only references to the 'impossibility of impossible things.'  So we look elsewhere for an answer to the question.

 

The kind of Aristotelian philosophy found in the Guide did not accord with the views of the Torah and the Jewish religious establishment, and Rambam was all but compelled to recant his philosophical expressions or face excommunication.  It was this change that brought about his writing a multitude of Jewish legal texts that addressed the more practical aspects of living a Jewish life.

 

Among this collection of texts is “Yigdal,” a piyyut (poem) introduced into synagogue worship during the last 850 years, which describes thirteen essential attributes of God.  The last two attributes of this list point out in brief an expression of a belief in the afterlife and resurrection.  They are:  “By the end of days God will send our Messiah, to redeem those longing for God’s promised final salvation,” and “God will revive the dead in abundant kindness - Blessed forever is God’s praised Name.”

 

From this we may discern a belief in the afterlife on the part of the Rambam, but whether he truly believed in this philosophy is something that we may never know.

You have asked three crucial questions regarding a “Jewish response” to this particular ecological travesty. I originally thought to use the word “tragedy,” but that term makes me feel detached, somehow, from the reckless human interactions with nature that apparently brought about this situation , and we must genuinely feel the pain of those who suffer. The ultimate answers to your questions may not be available until all is known about the cause and the effect of the spill, both of which loom more horrendous as the days pass and more information is released into the public sphere.

Let me answer the second question first. In the second chapter of Genesis, we learn that “the Eternal God took the man and placed him in a pleasure-garden (translation of the Hebrew phrase ‘gan eden’) to serve it and to preserve it.” [This is my translation of the two last terms in the verse (Genesis 2:15). The Hebrew terms that the Masoretic text employs here is “l’ovdah ul’shom’rah.” Other translations have “to till it and tend it” (Jewish Publication Society), “to dress it and to keep it” (Keter Press), “to work it and keep it” (Women of Reform Judaism’s ‘A Women’s Commentary’), or “to till it and care for it” (Oxford Study Edition of the New English Bible).] In my opinion, the notion of ‘serving’ and ‘preserving’ the land, leads me to believe that our human task is more than simply one of cultivating it (‘till’) or ‘attending’ to it along with anything else under one’s watch (‘tend’).

Later in Genesis, Adam and Eve lose the privilege of living in the pleasure-garden, and God throws them out. Afterward, our tradition inferred – throughout its history – that there had always been a human desire to return to Eden and regain what was once rightfully ours. It is this attempt to return to Eden, to repair the world (as in “tikkun olam”, the ‘perfection’ or ‘repair of the world’), that drives us toward the amelioration of all aspects of human suffering. The phrase “tikkun olam” refers, of course, not only to the release of slaves or the reduction of prejudice or the elimination of war. It also includes preserving the physical qualities of the planet Earth that have suffered over centuries of human impact. It is from this standpoint that we have developed a Jewish approach to preserving our environment.

Is there a Jewish-specific perspective to this situation? As Jews who should care for the planet, we mourn the destruction of miles of wetlands and the creatures that inhabit them; we detest the despoliation of the waters of the Gulf of Mexico; and we suffer along with those whose lives and livelihoods are affected by this disaster. As Jews who are told more than 37 times by the Torah to take care of the poor, the widow, the orphan, and the stranger (‘because we know the lot of the stranger having ourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt’), we are to employ our empathy and understand – in our kishkes (guts) – the scope of the catastrophe. When we can put ourselves in the shoes of those affected by calamity, then we will know what they are feeling, understand what they need, and respond in Jewish specific ways to offer whatever help we can.

Are we obligated to respond differently than non-Jews? I would offer that we are required to respond as Jews, and if others wish to follow our example, they certainly should do so.

The Midrash in Leviticus Rabbah (4:6) relates the following parable about our human, ‘earthly’ interdependency. A group of people was traveling in a boat. One of them took a drill and began to drill a hole beneath his seat. His companions said to him, “Why are you doing this?” The man replied, “What concern is it of yours? Am I not drilling under my own place?” They replied to him, “But if you continue, you will flood the boat for us all!”

I see no necessary distinction between and among various peoples and nationalities when it comes to the need to be involved in saving our Earth. Everyone must be involved, or else we will all sink our ship. Countries who refuse to sign climate change treaties because they don’t buy into the notion that we are responsible for climate change delude themselves and threaten the future of humanity. And it is up to all people of good will and wisdom to point out the errors we commit, and help us return on the road toward Eden.

For more information about a Jewish response to environmental challenges, go to the website of the Coalition on the Environment and Jewish Life (COEJL, http://www.coejl.org) or the National Religious Partnership for the Environment (NRPE, http://www.nrpe.org)

I do not know the positions of leadership you hold, or the experiences with which you may be familiar, but from the standpoint of a Rabbi, it also can be frustrating to observe fellow Jews’ reluctance to get involved with Jewish community life.  I would be careful about making the assumption that those who shun volunteer roles are not supportive of Jewish continuity, however.  We don’t always know their life situation or their troubles, or the workload under which they labor.  In Pirkei Avot 2:5 our sage Hillel reminds us, “Do not judge your fellow until you are in his place.”

Your question, “If G-d is omnipotent, why doesn't He clarify for us which religion is correct, once and for all, to stop religious wars?,” has been referred to me for a response.

 

Our ancestors saw in God both omnipotence and omniscience; these characteristics are clear in our reading of the events narrated in the Hebrew bible, and through the later lore of our people.  Reform Judaism understands, throughout the history of Israel, that the nature of the relationship between the community of Israel and its God – or to be broader, between God and humanity – has evolved, and that God should not, today, be understood as ‘omnipotent.’

 

 

It is true that our view of the ‘sovereignty’ of God translates into worship, fealty, dedication to God’s purposes, and emulation of God’s actions to assist the world.  But we understand that God does not interact with the world in the same fashion as described in the Bible.  Nowhere do we recognize God’s omnipotence in our day.

 

In a way, the opposite is true:  We believe that we bear the responsibility to be partners with God in the ongoing acts of creation, and the ongoing task of the repair of our world, actions that we call in Hebrew tikkun olam.  Rather than humanity’s existing under the concept of God’s omnipotence, we believe that we are God’s agents and actors in the world, and that it is up to us to do the work of reducing human violence.  This may prove to be an unsettling answer to some, but ultimately we believe that we must bear the responsibility for our world and for developing ways to change it for the better.

 

In a more recent platform (“A Statement of Principles of Reform Judaism” (http://ccarnet.org/Articles/index.cfm?id=44&pge_prg_id=4687&pge_id=1656), we state that “we continue to have faith that, in spite of the unspeakable evils committed against our people and the sufferings endured by others, the partnership of God and humanity will ultimately prevail.”