A Prayer Petition to my Congregation

Today, I sent this letter to my wonderful congregation to inspire increased attendance while many of the regulars are away during the summer months.  I share it publicly knowing that we're not alone, and noting that the ideas are broader than our local community.

Dear Congregants,

This past Saturday night and Sunday, we mourned together on Tisha B'Av lamenting the absurd cruelties of Jewish history but primarily mourning for the destruction of our holy Temples in Jerusalem and everything else (religiously, politically, socially) that those absolute destructions entailed.  Should a sincere mourning have a lasting effect?  If so, what should it be?

The truth is, I'm writing primarily because of the situation out community finds itself in.  Though we have about 80 men in our growing congregation (maybe more, maybe less), I haven't taken the time to count precisely, we now have trouble each day acquiring the minimal prayer quorum of ten men. Yesterday morning, I was number six (6); today, I was number ten (10).  This past Friday night, we were never close, despite a robust turnout on Shabbat morning, Shabbat afternoon, and Tisha B'Av itself.  Granted, all of this is partly due to the fact that it is summer, where a number of our members (and sometimes our Rabbi) travel and take extended vacations.

This situation will only be exacerbated in the coming days, as approximately seven (7) of our regular ten (10) will be traveling for an extended period of time; I'll also be taking the rest of my vacation. As leadership, we are now inclined to temporarily suspend our daily prayer services, morning and evening, save Shabbat and possibly weekends.  At this time, I turn to you, the congregation, with a message that I hope will facilitate discussion but also inspire attendance, regardless of what we choose to do over the coming weeks.

Why Ten?

As Rosie the Riveter said, "[w]e can do it!"  We is the operative word in that sentence.  We call ourselves a "congregation" in English, or "kehillah" in Hebrew. Rather than a mere collection of individuals, we are prima facia something larger than that, and share the responsibilities and privileges of our awesome and holy venture together as a joint entity.

In addressing the question of quorum, Rav Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook zt''l explained as follows. There's national service of God and individual service, and both are vital to the mission of Israel; individual service provides for an outlet for the proper service of each soul in a local context, whereas national service sets an example to the nations of the world in furtherance of our people's historic mission. Exile and the destruction of the Temples were a sensible Divine response to the particular private moral failings of individuals on a massive scale.  Private ethical behavior was weakened supplanted by perfunctory national religious ritual. The priorities were out of balance and misplaced, with an entire pole utterly neglected. It should be noted that this stinging message is delivered painfully by the prophet Isaiah:

10 Hear the word of the LORD, ye rulers of Sodom; give ear unto the law of our God, ye people of Gomorrah. 11 To what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices unto Me? saith the LORD; I am full of the burnt-offerings of rams, and the fat of fed beasts; and I delight not in the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of he-goats. 12 When ye come to appear before Me, who hath required this at your hand, to trample My courts? 13 Bring no more vain oblations; it is an offering of abomination unto Me; new moon and sabbath, the holding of convocations--I cannot endure iniquity along with the solemn assembly. 14Your new moons and your appointed seasons My soul hateth; they are a burden unto Me; I am weary to bear them. 15 And when ye spread forth your hands, I will hide Mine eyes from you; yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear; your hands are full of blood. 16 Wash you, make you clean, put away the evil of your doings from before Mine eyes, cease to do evil; 17 Learn to do well; seek justice, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow. {S} 18 Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. 19 If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land; 20 But if ye refuse and rebel, ye shall be devoured with the sword; for the mouth of the LORD hath spoken. {P}

In essence, God was entirely sick of the vain "religious" service of a nation of corrupt sinners.  As a result, we were placed into a situation of exile, whereby there was no more nation with a clear center, but individuals dispersed on their own. Enter the mussar movement, a focus on religious study, and personal religiosity and spirituality as the primary avenues of Jewish expression.  In exile, we would more properly work to refine our private ethical character devoid of forums for nationalized public worship.  Eventually, when this imbalance was properly corrected for, the national urge would again rise, which Rav Kook believed corresponded to the rise of the settlement of the land of Israel he was experiencing.  Even during our exile, though, rabbinic reminders would signal our national historic mission.  With prayer as a replacement of sacrifice after the destruction of the Second Temple, the requirement of a quorum (derived for the word עדה, community, used in relation to the ten spies, an interesting subject in its own right) served to remind us that our private service of God, observed most prominently during prayer, an intimate conversation with the Master of the Universe, ought still occur in the context of a quorum representative of the entire nation.  Moreover, all of the blessings of the amidah are distinctly plural.  Many contain direct references to our national mission and eventual and ongoing redemption.  All of this to remind us that we're not merely individual Jews, but members of a larger holy community, proudly pursuing prophetic promises of global and historical redemption, tikun haolam.

As you're likely aware, most of our prayer services contain a reader's repetition of the amidah.  Rav Soloveitchik, zt''l, prominently asserted that talking and even Torah study during such was absolutely prohibited, and accustomed himself to stand for the entire repetition, feet together, as if he was in prayer. There is the tefillat hayachid, the prayer of the individual, and the tefillat hatzibur, the communal prayer. They are equally important.

Personal Reasons to Pray

On the one hand, prayer with a quorum is a Jewish legal obligation.  Jewish men are required to pray thrice daily with a quorum, if possible, and women are required to pray the morning and afternoon services (with or without a quorum), according to Ashkenazic practice.  The Talmud rules that prayer in a synagogue with a quorum is qualitatively preferable to prayer alone.  Prayer in a synagogue even absent a quorum is preferable to prayer at home.  Experience tells us this is true.  It's a simple matter of fact that we're far more likely to pray and pray seriously if we attend the prayer service then if we try to fit it in on our own. Moreover, praying for others in the plural together, in the presence of others sharing the experience, is a holy experience of bonding and interpersonal communion that simply does not occur, spiritually, alone.

The obligation itself should be enough to encourage more frequent attendance, as we strive to pass on a tradition, legal and otherwise not of rights but of responsibilities.  I dare say we're growing weak and wimpy, finding excuses for skipping prayer, and our piety and lives suffer because of it.  We treat other rabbinic laws (rightly) with the utmost seriousness, yet simply ignore this requirement as if it were a luxury option.  As we fret about the Jewish education of the children in our community and passionately advocate for observance, we must model the behavior we proclaim to promote and observe ourselves.

Now, I know perfectly well that perfection is nearly impossible.  I know further that we're all on a path of service, at different levels of observance, seeking to find the right balance in our lives.  I'm not unaware of the stresses prayer attendance can create on family life, the hour of sleep forfeited, and the tremendous time and financial pressures placed on all of us.  All the more reason we need more prayer and prioritization in our lives, all of us, regardless of background or observance.

Prayer as Prioritization

We lead hectic lives, all of us, with too much to do, and constant interruption. Technology provides the reality of constant interruption and communication, interrupting tasks, flow, thought, and focus.  Additionally, prioritization is challenging and often not entirely within our control.  Enter prayer, more important now than ever; we've got to check in with God more than our inbox if we want to maintain meaningful religious practice.

In his commentary on the Talmud in Berachot entitled Ein Ayah, Rav Kook zt''l notes the important and distinct role of each of the three prayer services.  Morning prayers allow for a focus on the soul and spirit as we begin our physical days.  I heard from Rav Avidgor Neventzal that this is one of the reasons for the sages' famous ban on pre-prayer breakfast.  We must pray for our souls before feeding our stomachs; in other words, we must prioritize matters of the spirit in organizing our day.  I'll make a pragmatic suggestion.  Each of the 19 blessings of the amidah, particularly the requests in the middle, can be used to think about the to-do list for the upcoming day, praying and reflecting on what's to come.  I now use the shacharit amidah to reflect on whether the outcomes I hope for are in fact reach nichoach Lashem, "a fragrant odor to God," and whether my priorities are properly aligned.  This understanding is based on the fact that the reflexive Hebrew word for prayer is להתפלל, sometimes translated as "to judge oneself."  The root can also mean to imagine, and would them mean that we're hopefully imagining the lives we wish to lead.  Properly done, this weighing of priorities can serve as an exercise in fostering humility and hope while catalyzing our attainment of well-being.

Immersed in the work day, we can be overcome by the pursuit of wealth, forgetting ultimately why we really need it, while also losing balance with other values (family time chief among them).  Mincha, the afternoon service, interrupts, allowing us an antidote to the potential toxins of the modern workplace.  Elijah the prophet defeated the priests of Baal in the afternoon, says the Talmud.  So too, we are likely to contend with foreign forces during the workday.  While this may sound somewhat cynical, reflecting negatively on the predominant culture, it is also poignant and often true.  Our world is absolutely full of negative and foreign values (obsessive greed, selfishness, narcissism, the objectification of women, and mass dehumanization come readily to my mind) that overtly and covertly seep into our psyche.  As Edward Abbey famously noted, "[g]rowth for the sake of growth is the ideology of a cancer cell."  Many of us are caught up, to varying degrees, in that western rat-race of ego and wealth.

Ma'ariv, the evening service, according to Rav Kook, serves to guard against lustful and sinful behavior most commonly occurring at night.  Psychologically, I'd like to offer a suggestion.  The mental capacity for self-control has been shown to exhaust itself, resulting in poorer decisions and a lack of self-restraint following other difficult decisions.  After the rigors of the day, we need renewed encouragement to renew our fortitude for good decision making based on the values we not only profess but care about. Ma'ariv encourages us to continue to live our values and be our best selves. Importantly, it also serves as an opportunity to measure our day and reflect.  We all know that self-evaluation and feedback are critical to job performance lest we lose sight of goals and fall into rote. Our spiritual/ethical feedback should be at least as strong as our professional measurements, but I fear is entirely absent.

These insights from or based on the teachings of the Talmud as explained by Rav Kook serve as a powerful explanation for the tangible benefits that prayer can have on our lives.  Restatement, reflection, and refinement of our priorities, meditated on at important times, can truly transform how we live and change our lives for the better in revolutionary ways.

Prayer for Everyone

Recently, in response to my request for morning minyan attendance, a congregant retorted, "[s]orry, but minyan is for alter cockers, mystics, and people saying mourner's kaddish."  I'd like to take written issue.

First, I'd like to share a passage from Worship of the Heart, a collection of thoughts from Rav Soloveitchik, zt''l, where the Rav questions seriously the notion that prayer is for everyone:

"A serious problem comes to the fore . . . is it confined to the religious genius - a curious and unique type of personality who is capable of attaining this ecstatic state of mind, of rapture an unification, a personality who rejects what seems clearly, logically and tangibly to be the natural order, for the sake of tending a reality which is beyond one's grasp?  Is prayer only for the mystic?  We, in contrast to the mystic, are all physically and mentally children of this external concrete world and therefore, if this be true, cannot make the leap from the sensuous and real into the transcendent and absolute.  Hence, avodah she-ba-lev, in the Maimonidean description, is an esoteric adventure, one that is not understandable to the average person.  Saints or mystics, whom God has blessed with an over-sensitized nature, with the capacity for violent and intelligible emotions, with an exalted sense of perceptions and fantasy-they may follow the mystical way, devoting their existence to the Infinite.  But we many not be able to do so . . . Unless tefillah as a Halakhic norm can find a place within the frame of reference of normal mentality, and lend itself to realization by every human being, regardless of his spiritual limitations, its meaning to us could never more than academic and remote . . . entrusted to an esoteric group, to the select few . . . ." (Worship of the Heart, 26-7)

The Rav's answer was simple.  Chazal were well aware of this concern, and therefore designed a tripartite prayer consisting of 1) Praise 2) Requests 3) Gratitude from among a wider array of possible subjects as most related to the needs of a common person.  "These three motifs-these three rays-offer remedial and inspiring energy for everybody.  Therefore, they were singled out and spelled out in our silent prayer."  We can all recognize the grandeur of God, think about and request our needs, and express gratitude for the blessing in our lives.  To do so daily provides "energy for everybody."

Second, I'd like to focus on certain ethical aspects of the notion that minyan is for those reciting the mourner's kaddish.  In our community, there are men and women regularly desirous of reciting this exalted prayer to elevate the soul of a departed loved one.  Doing so is both an act of love and dedication to the memory of  the deceased, while at the same time an act of faith very much focused on God's presence in our "real" world.  By attending the minyan, men help insure that others will be able to carry on this most sacred tradition, engaging in a de facto act of compassion and kindness for the those trying to recite the prayer.  There is a responsibility to do this as a fulfillment of Judaism's great primary principle, "[l]ove your neighbor as yourself."   

Which brings me to the next logical point.  If we ourselves would/will desire the quorum to recite kaddish when, God forbid, the time comes, we have an ethical obligation to attend during other times as well.  It's my strong feeling that it's ethically wrong to be willing to receive a donated organ but not willing to give one.  It violates basic ethical norms of fairness, Hillel's golden rule, and Kant's categorical imperative. Minyan is no different.  Basic fairness demands that those who would utilize in the hour of need must facilitate the same for others during their hour.               

Conclusion

Now, there are several frequent objections to Jewish prayer I have not substantively addressed in these musings.  You may find yourself saying, "[o]ur prayer experience does not map the lofty goals and aspirations described by sages ancient and modern quoted in this and other writings on the subject; our prayers are rote, rushed, full of talking, or otherwise not spiritually conducive in some manner or another." To that claim, I am quite sympathetic, and share it in large measure, but note that the abandonment of prayer itself solves nothing and also the exaggeration of the claims a bit.  Prayer is a practice to help us always live more fully aware of God's presence; to the extent it doesn't meet that aim, we must work to refine our environment to something more conducive.  Abandoning prayer does even less to further the aim.  I as your Rabbi will support communal suggestions for more conducive prayer wholeheartedly. It is also largely private, and can be taken seriously by willing individuals regardless of external factors.

You may find yourself saying, "I don't want to read words someone in a different place and time wrote, but want to pray my own prayers."  To this, I'd note that our sages required that we be mechadeish bah davar, that each of our prayers contain new elements, and suggested the framework as a baseline framework to be added to.  Minimally sufficient restrictions and limitations (like rules for children) foster the freedom to create and innovate more fully.  Add your own prayers related to the subject matter of the different blessings, please.  It's a Jewish law requirement.

I lay these out before you as preliminary thoughts on the obligations and benefits of regular prayer attendance.  You may disagree with some or all of what I've said.  That's well and good, and I'd be thrilled if this is a starting point for a communal discussion about what prayer is or ought to be, in our personal lives and for our community.  Perhaps we will develop congregational forums for discussing prayer seriously; after all, it's a fairly central part of what goes on in a beit kenesset.

Most immediately, though, I've set up a Google document for the coming weeks designed to chart prayer attendance.  At the bottom of the page, there's on tab for shacharit and one for mincha/ma'ariv.  This serves both as a way for our congregation to see if we have the requisite numbers for a quorum for each prayer over the coming weeks (so that those saying kaddish or otherwise desirous of a minyan may plan accordingly), while also serving as a way for you to commit yourself and hold yourself to it.  Women are welcomed and encouraged to sign up, though won't count in the quorum (that's for another essay).  Frequently, modern Orthodoxy is criticized as a movement more of convenience than commitment. This is symbolized by the fact that we need to rely on others to make our minyan.  I don't believe this to be true at all, and am confident that with time, training, and re-habitualization, we can rise to the challenge לטוב לנו, to our ultimate benefit.  I know that my attendance is and will remain less than perfect, and note publicly the inherent inconsistency always present in writing these kinds of thoughts.  Thank you for taking the time to read my thoughts, for your serious consideration, and for signing up.

Sincerely,

Rabbi Dolinger
חיים בעריל בן מאיר שמשון ולאה ביילה

The Administration's Fixation with Israel - A Public Appeal

(U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry criticizing Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu)

Dear Honorable Elected Representatives and Officials,

Jewish hero, bridge builder, and Soviet Gulag survivor Natan Sharansky famously suggested a "3d" test for what he termed the "new antisemitism" (http://www.jcpa.org/phas/phas-sharansky-f04.htm).  Softer than its more overt cousins, this anti-semitism is the product of double standards, delegitimization and demonization. Semantics and incendiary politics aside, this is a useful rubric for examining unfair and biased treatment of Israel.

Yesterday, testifying before the House of Representatives Foreign Affairs Committee, U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry warned:

"The Prime-Minister was profoundly forward-leaning and outspoken about the importance of invading Iraq under George W. Bush.  We all know what happened with that decision."

The problems with this statement are many, and consequential.  Firstly, there is extreme hypocrisy.  Kerry, vast majorities of both major U.S. parties, as well as the vast majority of the American people supported that war.  In fact, John Kerry was one of the select few with the actual power to wage war (the U.S. Congress is supposed to be the branch to declare wars).  Then Senator Kerry voted for the war he now criticizes others for supporting.

Secondly, intentional or not (I assume it is not), this plays off of fears and classic anti-semitic canards that the Jews are a fifth-column, divided in their loyalty, powerful in their influence, lobbying and persuading the United States to act against their own interest.  Often, this type of allegation goes hand-in-hand with conspiracies of Jewish ownership of the main organs of society (Holywood, the media, government, Wall Street), and lurks just beneath the surface.  See, for example, a recent attempt to deny a Jewish student appointment on a judicial governing council at UCLA because of the "conflicts of interest" involved simply in being an affiliated Jew (http://dailybruin.com/2015/02/18/submission-usac-members-should-apologize-for-discriminatory-act/).  In reality, Israel was merely supporting its great friend and ally.  I recognize that Kerry didn't make accuse Israel of influencing the policy, but he certainly came too close to intimating such a thing.

Many allies supported and fought in the Iraq War with us.  To single out Israel, particularly Benjamin Netanyahu, and then note his judgement is now circumspect is a clear employment of an unfortunate double standard.  Are the leaders of England, France, Germany, Canada, and all of the politicians, military officials, etc. now circumspect in their judgment of all military matters due to their support of that war?  Perhaps, but Israel is again the country to focus on and criticize.  It's worth noting that this event isn't occurring in isolation, but comes on the heels of weeks of intensifying and personal criticism of Israel and Benjamin Netanyahu from administration officials like John Kerry, Susan Rice, Jen Psaki, and many many others.  Nary a week goes by without incitement against Israel or its elected leader from the executive branch.  Would it were that the administration would reserve its anger and frustration for actual enemies such as the Iranian regime (committed overtly and proudly to terrorism and our defeat).  Instead, for political reasons, those criticisms are limited or absent, while criticism of Israel is ubiquitous and overemphasized.  That's called a double standard, and it's time to protest.      

John Kerry also misleads with his words.  Much ink has been spilled noting Israel's (and yes, Benjamin Netanyahu's) reluctance to engage in a military conflict with Iran, desiring instead a negotiated solution. Netanyahu himself recently gave a speech where he stressed his vehement opposition to a bad agreement, but not an agreement generally (http://www.i24news.tv/en/news/israel/diplomacy-defense/61341-150216-netanyahu-s-congress-speech-to-be-delayed-by-5-minutes-on-israeli-tv).  Kerry implies that Israel is gunning for war, but it clearly is not, as evidenced by the lack of attack or discussion about one.  Kerry also imputes Netanyahu's support for the Iraq war to Israel, though Netanyahu was only a former Prime Minister holding no elected office at that time.  In reality, Secretary Kerry and President Obama have promised a non-nuclear Iran, but have clearly given up on that notion if multiple media reports of the emerging deal are to be believed.

In short and without exaggeration or rhetorical flourish, the administration has mislead, employed a double standard (the frequency and intensity of the criticism render a term like double standard generous), stoked fears of Jewish influence and hypocritically attacked the Jewish State and its Prime Minister.  Moreover, they've done it with obvious anger and resentment.

To an outside observer, it seems that President Obama and Secretary Kerry are letting a personal feud with Prime Minister Netanyahu (I'm not commenting on the legitimacy of that feud, as I recognize there are many viewpoints) dominate discussion, instead stifling important and legitimate discussion about the real issue, Iran's nuclear intentions, motivations, and capabilities.  Let's have a national debate about whether the terms of the emerging deal are a good one.  Distracting and making it all about a school-yard catfight between world leaders is silly and demeans the high offices being served and the United States Government generally.

At a time where Jews are frightfully experiencing a renewal in violent and hateful global anti-semitism, the administration's tone and words are causing increased anxiety for many.  As a Rabbi and communal leader, it is my moral duty to protest and to do so loudly.  This week, Jews across the world will celebrate Purim, celebrating victory over a genocidal Persian regime seeking to kill the Jews for reasons of political expedience.  Just as Mordechai and Esther acted to protect the Jews of Persia, we speak up on behalf of our people again.  Treat Israel and its leaders fairly, like the loyal Middle Eastern democractic ally that it is. End the scorn, double standards, fixation and misleading criticism. Please, enough is enough.

Sincerely,

Barry Dolinger
חיים בעריל בן מאיר שמשון ולאה ביילה        

       

Letter to the Islamic School of Rhode Island

This is the text of a letter I sent today to the Islamic School of RI, which was recently attacked and vandalized with incredibly hateful messages.  We should stand in solidarity against this kind of bigotry and hatred, which has no place in our society.

Dear Students, Teachers, Staff, Parents, Members of the Board of Trustees, Supporters and Friends of the Islamic School of Rhode Island:

It is with outrage and profound sadness that we received the news of bigoted and hateful messages spray-painted illegally and cruelly onto your precious school.  We condemn the actions, and more importantly, the spirit of hatred that caused them. 

Coming on the heels of the vicious attack and brutal killing of three upstanding Muslim students in North Carolina, and just one day after your school’s memorial of those honorable victims, may they rest in peace, it seems unlikely that the timing was coincidental.  Rather, the vandalism of your school was likely intended to rub salt in the proverbial wound and was calculated to cause increased fear and anxiety.  This makes these otherwise horrific actions that much worse. 

We extend our hands in offering you support during this time, and pledge to work together to fight intolerance and hatred all too common in our world.  Sharing the belief that all people are created in the image of the one true God, we join together with you in prayers for peace and respect. Assalamu alaykum.  

Sincerely,

Barry Dolinger

Healthier Relationships - Biblical Models

This is based on a sermon I gave this past Shabbat, Chayei Sarah.

(Isaac meeting Rebekah)

 “Every day in June, the most popular wedding month of the year, about 13,000 American couples will say ‘I do,’ committing to a lifelong relationship that will be full of friendship, joy, and love that will carry them forward to their final days on this earth.

Except, of course, it doesn’t work out that way for most people. The majority of marriages fail, either ending in divorce and separation or devolving into bitterness and dysfunction. Of all the people who get married, only three in ten remain in healthy, happy marriages . . . .”

So begins “Masters of Love,” an article published in the Atlantic this past June by Emily Esfahani Smith.  The truth is, one of the largest problems in our society is failed or strained relationships.  Many of us are struggling personally, and we all have close friends or relatives one step away in failed or unproductive relationships. While the sacred bond between husband and wife is perhaps the paradigmatic example, all of our relationships are suffering substantially.

No doubt, the causes are many, and an exhaustive exposition is both impossible and beyond the scope of this sermon.  The increased demands of modern life and normative two working parent families add serious strain on family life.  The perpetual scatter-brained attempt at juggling our latest technological attention grabbers render us into untrained circus performers . . . except the show never ends.  Bureaucratic ubiquity, that pervasive sense that no one cares about how we’re actually doing, and that we’re just numbers on a page or cogs in a machine certainly contributes; as a reaction to feeling small and insignificant, self-promotion, competition, bragging, rugged individualism, and extreme narcissistic behaviors are all commonplace.  These are some of the things that rise to the top of my mind, and I’m sure there are so many more. 

Given the centrality of strain in marriages, friendships, and interactions generally, what key advice can the Torah give to what many term the dor yatom, our orphaned generation?  We need turn no further than the story of Eliezer, Abraham’s trusted servant, in his search for Isaac’s wife.

More than a wife, it seems as though Eliezer is searching for kindness and generosity personified, Abraham’s noted traits, in the form of a woman.  And so he controversially requests a divine sign, that God’s act of chesed result in the discovery of its human image:

“And he said, ‘O Lord, God of my master Abraham, grant me good fortune this day, and deal graciously with my master Abraham: Here I stand by the spring as the daughters of the townsmen come out to draw water; let the maiden to whom I say, ‘Please lower your jar that I may drink,’ and who replies, ‘Drink, and I will also water your camels’ – let her be the one whom you have decreed for your servant Isaac. Thereby shall I know that You have dealt graciously with my master.’”

Overtly, kindness and generosity are the prerequisites for selection as a matriarch in the house of Abraham.  There are also subtle details, though, which reinforce the motif. 

A close reading yields at least two discrepancies; one between Eliezer’s request to God and the way it actually went down, and a second between the way it actually went down and the description Eliezer proffers to Laban and company.

1) During Eliezer’s request, the sign is when the woman instantly offers both Eliezer and his camels water to drink.  However, Rebekah actually offers him water to drink, lets him drink, and only afterward offers to give water to the camels.

2) During the actual events, after the generous offer of water, Eliezer gifts jewelry as a sign of approval, and only then inquires as to her genealogy. “When the camels had finished drinking, the man took a gold nose-ring weighing a half-shekel, and two gold bands for her arms, ten shekels in weight.”  He’s beginning to trust, optimistically, that God is fulfilling the conditions and act with faith.  Still, to be sure, he then asks, “’[p]ray tell me,’ he said, ‘whose daughter are you? Is there room in your father’s house for us to spend the night?’”

However, his recitation of the events to Laban and Bethuel reverses the order, genealogy before jewlery. “I inquired of her, ‘whose daughter are you?’ and she said, ‘the daughter of Bethuel, son of Nahor, whom Milcah bore to him.’ And I put the ring on her nose and the bands on her arms.”

To answer the first question, I’d suggest that Rebekah had intended from the outset to offer water to the camels as well. However, she wanted Eliezer to drink as much as he wanted, especially after his long hot journey, and didn’t want him to feel as though he ought to conserve the water. That’s why she only offered the camels water after she saw that he was satisfied.

As for the second question, perhaps the order is reversed to give Laban and Bethuel the impression that it was her lineage (and their honor) that really sealed the deal. This was a white lie offered not only to make a more efficacious appeal but also to engender positive feelings among Laban and Bethuel. Eliezer, like his master, is looking for ways to act with generosity.

The Atlantic offers several key ingredients toward the maintenance of healthy relationships, and thankfully, they’re mainly things we can work on and improve, rather than being innate.  From the article:

Gottman wanted to know more about how the masters created that culture of love and intimacy, and how the disasters squashed it. In a follow-up study in 1990, he designed a lab on the University of Washington campus to look like a beautiful bed and breakfast retreat. He invited 130 newlywed couples to spend the day at this retreat and watched them as they did what couples normally do on vacation: cook, clean, listen to music, eat, chat, and hang out. And Gottman made a critical discovery in this study—one that gets at the heart of why some relationships thrive while others languish.

Throughout the day, partners would make requests for connection, what Gottman calls “bids.” For example, say that the husband is a bird enthusiast and notices a goldfinch fly across the yard. He might say to his wife, “Look at that beautiful bird outside!” He’s not just commenting on the bird here: he’s requesting a response from his wife—a sign of interest or support—hoping they’ll connect, however momentarily, over the bird.

After six years, they examined the couples who had divorced, the couples who remained together, and heard reports on their levels of satisfaction and happiness.  The couples who were still together had responded to “bids” an average of 87% of the time, versus just 33% for couples who had divorced. 

I’d posit that this is something tangible that can help aide our marriages, friendships, and other relationships in significant ways.  When someone makes a “bid,” reaches out, how do we respond, or better yet, do we respond at all?  Are we consumed in ourselves, or will we reach beyond ourselves, and respond generously? This forces us to implement the values we’d want to claim as our own.  There’s a famous story about a child who claimed that he had antipathy to Judaism because his parents cared more about football than him.  When confronted, the parents respond to the child that this is preposterous, and they of course care more about him than football.  How come, then, the child asks, you always were too busy to study with me when I asked on Sundays, and I saw you watching the football game instead.  A repeated rejected bid.

“Shammai used to say: Make your Torah study a fixed habit. Say little and do much; and greet everyone cheerfully.”[1]  Shammai’s aphorism is about more than the underlying content he’s concerned with; he’s making a broader comment about productivity and efficiency.  The first part of the Mishna is concerned not just with Torah study but making it a habit.  We should do a lot and say a little, in other words, be productive!  And how can we increase our productivity?  Habit.  Make Torah study habitual, scheduled regularly, and placed on the calendar.  Same thing with the seifa, the end of the Mishna.  Shammai notes that we must greet every person with good cheer.  Why kol ha’adam, each and every person?  It’s not just a Kantian notion that each person is of immeasurable and infinite value, “beyond all price” in his words, though this notion certainly will find much agreement in classic Judaism.  It’s also and even primarily about who we choose to be as people, and Shammai is telling us to be people who make a habit of always being kind, generous, and cheerful.  This, the same Shammai known for his legal and halachic stricture, is the perfect sage to be able to obligate us in remembering to habitualize kindness.

Similarly, the Talmud in Berachot[2] notes that one who fails to return a greeting is a robber.  “If his friend greets him and he doesn’t return the greeting he is called a robber.”  The proof text is from Isiah.  “The Lord will bring this charge against the elders and officers of his people: ‘It is you who have ravaged the vineyard; that which was robbed from the poor is in your houses. How dare you crush my people and grind the faces of the poor?’ – says my Lord God of Hosts.”[3]  What could one possibly steal from the poor?  After all, they don’t have desirable property.  A greeting, say the sages.  A simple hello, a positive countenance, a smile and acknowledgment of worth.

In our generation, there’s massive “poverty” in this regard.  Increased distractions render it harder to focus on the things that matter most.  We’re all malnourished and impoverished suffering from a lack of positive interactions.  Let us resolve to habitualize kindness, respond to bids, and improve our relationships by relating more often.   

---

[1] Pirkei Avot 1:15

[2] Talmud Bavli, Berachot, 6b

[3] Isiah 3:14

Radical Rabbinics Renewed: Flood Waters Rising

(Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, who tried to reconstitute a modern Sanhedrin)

In recent weeks, the rabbinate has again been sullied by the sordid actions of one of our rank. Properly, the RCA repudiated, revoked, and removed said offender, and began to put in place overdue but welcome measures to protect the status of converts, particularly women, placed in a vulnerable position. Sadly, the actions came too late, and it seems they could have done more earlier.  Hindsight is 20/20, as they say, but we've also been down this road before.  Rabbi Gedalia Dov Schwartz, the revered sage and Av Beit Din (Chief Justice) for the RCA's affiliated BDA issued an important ruling, kedarko hakodesh (as is his holy way) ruling that all of the converts are Jewish and need not worry about their status.  As a deservedly revered, humble, learned, and pious Rabbi (who started his illustrious career in Providence, RI and makes us all beam with pride), his ruling will likely be respected and accepted across many streams, and most importantly, by the Rabbanut, the Israeli rabbinate.  Still and sadly, the rabbinate is reviewing the conversions, in a move that could cause terror amongst the already vulnerable population, and is almost certainly a collective violation of the biblical injunction of inui hager, oppressing the convert.  Note, I'm not assigning blame, but describing the situation that I'm hearing numbers of real converts describe, and that amounts to a major Jewish law problem that we as Rabbis should and must address.

In the past. the sages from the time of the great assembly to the sages of the mishnah to the medieval authority Rabbeinu Gershom issued legal decrees to protect the vulnerable, the classic origination of tikun haolam, the repair of the world.  These included the institution of the ketubah to protect married women in changed socioeconomic circumstances, the ban on polygamy, the pruzbul to protect the poor, and other bold and brave decrees.  Gittin, divorce documents are destroyed, and courts only keep certificates that a divorce was completed, specifically so that we won't revisit the documents to inquire as to their validity.

In that most traditional of spirits, an in line with Rabbi Schwartz's ruling and the RCA's statement, for the sake of righteous converts (gerei hatzedek) I humbly propose that the Orthodox Rabbinate sign on to a new decree, a bona fide gezeira (decree to protect Torah law) that states as follows:

    אנו החתומים גוזרים שאסור לבדוק אחרי מעשים הרעים לשעבר של דיינים לבתי  דין של גיור כדי לפסול גירות כי אין לדבר סוף ואי אפשר לגרים לחיות בפחד בלי מנוחת נפש.  עושים את הגזירה הזאת מפני תיקון העולם

We the undersigned decree that it is forbidden to inquire into the former immoral actions of conversion court judges in order to invalidate conversions, for there is no end to the matter and it is not proper for converts to live in constant fear with no peace of mind.  We are making this decree to facilitate the betterment of our world.

Several points:

1) Rabbinic Power Generally

Some will point out, rightly, that we have much to fear from unchecked rabbinic power, especially given the current state of affairs.  I don't disagree.  That being said, this is a religious problem, and the rabbis of former generations would have been creative, bold, and solved the problem in just this kind of way.  There are plenty of natural limits on rabbinic power.  For one, the community won't accept a universal decree easily if at all (most would think the idea impossible in the current climate). Secondly, the notion of getting prominent scholars and a wide breadth of Rabbis and legal decisors to agree to new legislation is nearly impossible to fathom in today's divided world.  That's why I'm imploring my rabbinic colleagues defy cynicism and do the impossible.

2)  Halachic Analysis

Rabbi Schwartz's ruling was a current Jewish law ruling.  I haven't heard his reasoning, but am sure he's judged and ruled correctly.  Many others will agree, but it's possible that some, especially in Israel, will not.  I'd like to explore and examine the legal aspects of retroactively invalidating conversions and the status of sinful judges (whose prior sins were exposed after the fact), but even engaging in this analysis is problematic for converts given the immense and dramatic practical implications of the law.  What I'm proposing is, in some sense, unrelated to that type of analysis.

3)  Restoring the glory of Torah

It's been a tough road for organized religion, or organized anything for that matter (see Congress of the United States).  Cynicism is high, popularity is absent, and there's a broad consensus that self-interest, partisan politics, money, and power prevent the right thing from happening always.  Friends, we can actually begin to change that action through bold moves consistent with our mesorah (tradition).  When I was studying in RIETS, Rabbi Hershel Schachter, a venerated Rosh Yeshiva and one of the community's brilliant sages and Talmudic scholars would often repeat some version of the following thoughts:

Why is it that the chachamim are allowed to make new decrees?  After all, the Torah is perfect, meaning perfectly balanced between stringency and leniency, as expressed in the mitzvot that we shouldn't add or subtract, and in the Rambam's notion of shevil hazahav, the golden mean, etc.  The sages understood inherently that they were empowered to create fences or obligations to protect the observance of commandments and ideals, positive and negative, that were in the Torah.  They weren't making new rules, but insuring that the Torah was properly followed.

Well, it's the same situation for us today.  The Torah's command to "love the convert" and proscription, "don't oppress the convert," are concomitantly and systematically endangered.  This is precisely the unique kind of situation where Rabbis need to bond together to protect the righteous values and commands of our holy Torah.  A gezeirah is the perfect way to do it, and would help to mend wounds and restore faith in the Torah and religious leadership.  That's the real tikkun to this kind of thing, and I hope people will take my simple but bizarre suggestion seriously.  Frankly, it's the traditional rabbinic answer and long overdue.

I'm also going to ask for allies from across the Orthodox rabbinic spectrum to join together in this fight, and lobby for its acceptance.  It's our responsibility to solve the problem structurally and not rest.  As we said so many times on Sukkot, Please God, save us!  When I first became more observant, my grandfather z''l reminded me that God likes to help those who help themselves first. I'm going to do my best to follow his advice.      


P.S.  If you're willing to sign on, let me know!

Mikveh Madness II

I'd like to share some of the kernel ideas of a sermon I delivered to my Congregation this past Shabbat, Parshat Breishit, when we started the Torah anew and began with Creation:

Years ago, Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan z''l wrote a small booklet entitled Waters of Eden outlining the basic laws and some of his philosophical musings on the Mikveh, the Jewish ritual bath.  In that rich pamphlet, he noted some powerful and beautiful ideas about the concept of Mikveh.  

First, he focused on a common Chasidic conception of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, promulgated by the Baal Shem Tov and many others.  Originally (presumably in an ontological and not necessarily temporal sense), humans were purely good, with evil manifest externally.  Enter the slithering snake as sinister symbol.  After consumption of the fruit from the tree, however, good and evil were then (and now) bound together.  More than the metaphor of entangled cords, it seems more proper to analogize by assigning to evil the role of soluble dissolved in a solvent; think sugar in tea.  On Shabbat, to emphasize the point, I mentioned a profound interpretation of the Gaon Rabbi Elijah of Vilna.  A famous verse in Ecclesiastes states, "For there is not a righteous person on Earth who does good and sins not." (Ecclesiastes 7:20).  The common understanding is that no one is perfect; all people sin.  Taking a more literal interpretation, the Gaon explained instead that every good deed is inherently mixed with some element of sin, be it improper motivation, ego, gain, etc.  Anyone who performs a good action will also sin in some sense; it's simply the cost of doing business in our post-Edenic world. 

Central to Rabbi Kaplan's thesis (it made the title!), he focused on the verse, "[a] river went out of Eden to water the Gaden, and from there it separated and became four headwaters." (Genesis 2:10)  The Talmud in Berachot (55a) notes that all of the world's bodies of water are sourced in the original river leaving Eden. Immersion in the Mikveh, and purity in general, is an attempt to return to the well-intentioned world of Eden where human desires are pure and plain.  Halachah requires absolutely immersion in a natural body of water to achieve taharah, purity.  Personally, I understand this to mean a mode of operation where we strongly and innately desire to act righteously and put our best foot forward.  This is something we all feel on occasion, and try to make our common mode.

How sadly ironic that the mikveh itself has now become the model of the blurring between the pure and the profane, and that the natural source of our return to honesty, humility, and trust in humanity's best intentions has transformed into a vestige of that very real and perverse world in which we live.  Is it possible to find purity in our world?     

Mikveh Madness

In the Lonely Man of Faith, Rav Soloveitchik famously discerned two human archetypes in the varying accounts of Creation presented both in Genesis Chapters 1 and 2 (read yesterday as the weekly Torah reading), and also evident from his personal observations and experiences of modernity. It's not my intention to discuss the Rav's compelling confession in full here, but I would like to make use of his thesis to describe some of the sadness I'm feeling today.

While describing what the Rav termed “Adam I”, he described a social creature whose innate humanity (and therefore reflection of being created in God's image) is manifest by the command to “fill the earth and subdue it.” Man's mastery over science, nature, obsession with technological advance, and constant quest for dignity are to be understood as one of two major operating principles, and an important part of what it means to be a human. I'd like to cite part of the Rav's description of this personality:

     Dignity is a social and behavioral category, expressing not an intrinsic existential quality but a            technique of living, a way of impressing society, the knowhow of commanding respect and                  attention of the other fellow, a capacity to make one's presence felt. In Hebrew, the noun kavod,          dignity, and the noun koved, weight, gravitas, stem from the same root . . . Hence dignity is is              measured not by the inner worth of the in-depth personality, but by the accomplishments of the            surface personality. (Lonely Man of Faith, pg. 24).

I'm not a sociologist, nor am I a psychologist. It would seem to me, though, that, with frequent publicity, “spiritual leaders” repeatedly fail to respect the human dignity of others, and have manifest their personal perverted drives for power by using and and objectifying others. Sometimes, its a lack of respect for property or civil liberties; sometimes, its a lack of respect for honestly held feelings and experiences; often, its a lack of respect for sexual privacy and the infinite human value present in each soul. All of the time, it's the opposite of the values real spiritual leaders ought to be promoting as their raison d'etre. The problem is much more deeply rooted than the surface symptoms and manifestations we so often read about, and is inherent to the money, fame, and power so easily abused in organized religion. “Responsibility” is vital in the Rav's formulation of Adam I's healthy exercise of human power; it's totally absent far too often in today's rabbinate and in religious and other leadership structures generally. And then there's “Adam the Second,” an archetype even more sorely absent, and one that ought to be a balanced part of religious existence.

For “Adam the Second,” his human drive is manifest not in exercising (we hope responsibly) human domination and control, but rather in the experience of the divine inherent in being.

     However, while the cosmos provokes Adam the first to quest for power and control, thus making        him ask the functional “how” question, Adam the second responds to the call of the cosmos by            engaging in a different kind of cognitive gesture. He does not ask a single functional question.            Intead his inquiry is of a metaphysical nature and a threefold one. He wants to know: “Why is it?”      “What is it?” “Who is it?” (Lonely Man of Faith, pg. 20)

The mikveh is the ancient Jewish ritual bath. Composed of natural water, its use represents this important and oft-neglected aspect of existence. For many reasons, our modern society renders it increasingly difficult to face the mystery of our own existence, and existence as a whole, and to confront our human role and responsibility in light of the grandeur, loneliness, and awesome privilege of simply being. Undoubtedly, part of it is our obsession with mastery, technology, fame, and ourselves; in other words, the extreme and growing overemphasis of “Adam the First.” Water is a universal symbol of rebirth, and a Jewish symbol of purity, introspection, and the relationship between an individual and the Master of the Universe. Personally, my experience using the mikveh (aside from the one time I caught Conjunctivitis from a toxic body of water in Jerusalem's old city on the Eve of Yom Kippur) has been fragile and meaningful. Alone in the room with the water, I recall feeling God's presence and resolving more strongly to improve, to change, and to focus. Partly the ritual and partly the religious significances and deep connection so many generations of our ancestors, the mikveh is the ultimate in religious confrontations with God and with one's own self. The horrid abuse of this intimate sanctified space reminds me of the forgotten holiness in our world, and leaves me shaken.

It could just be me, but I often feel as though even our Jewish religious culture rejects the fundamental attitude of religious awe, focusing instead exclusively on scholarship, achievement, image, news, and a variety of other public and social things. I think it's time to shift the scales a bit, especially in this era of Facebook and Twitter, and time to focus more on private faith, quality of character, and authentic religious experience. I'm no prophet, but it seems to me the shechinah is shedding tears during this time of joy. If She isn't, I am, and I know I'm not alone.