Overheard in Jerusalem #1

“It’s not that there isn’t any value in learning the p’shut meaning of the text, it is after all one of the 70 panim of the Torah, but it’s value is only 1/70th of what there is to learn… And as far as the overall goal of our learning, it’s often next to useless.”

“OK, ok, but consider this: There are many types of midrashim; halakhic, homiletic, historical, narrative, and… expository. The expository midrashim are there mainly to explain pshat, not to add extra-biblical ideas or stories… The fact that we have a whole category of midrash which focuses on the pshut reading of the text shows that there a value in the p’shut reading of the text.”

“But wait; we are descendants of the Pharisees, the word itself alludes to the fact that we are the creators and the maintainers of the commentaries, we are m’phareish! We value the tradition of taking the Torah, figuring out what Gd wants us to do, and maintaining our explanations as a tradition that goes back to Moshe… We hold this mission in such high regard, that even the bas kol doesn't overturn all that we've been able to learn! It’s disingenuous to take one part of that tradition, a specific category of midrashim, and throw out the rest of the tradition that we’ve maintained. I guess I’m saying that without the various extra-biblical sources the basic text of the bible is at best very basic, and at worst, misleading.”

“But isn’t that assuming what you’re trying to prove, after all; often times the only reason that you know that the p’shut reading is incorrect is because it doesn’t match up well with halacha l’maisah?”

“You’re right, but we also believe “with perfect faith” that the entire Torah now in our hands is the same one that was given to Moshe… That’s the entire thing, not just what’s written; so it’s all or nothing, you can’t separate the basic translation of the written text from the additions… Our halacha is completely intertwined with the meaning of the written word because both come from the same source; so an understanding of one that contradicts the other is by necessity an incomplete or flawed understanding.”

“Don’t we say that the Torah contains everything?”

“Yeah”

“So it follows that there should be some value to what the Torah writes without resorting to smoke and mirrors.”

“The ‘other stuff’ as you’d call it isn’t smoke! It’s all fire.”

“Alright, so what does a “p’shut reading of the text” mean to you? For me it means an exact reading.”

Oh, I guess that in the context of what we’re talking about now I’d say that it’s a loose or basic reading… P’shat is one of those weird words that can mean both extremes of one concept. It’s either the end result of a determined effort to understand, or just a preliminary reading.”

“Yeah, I always thought of it in relation to being exact and straightforward, not just the beginning of an understanding…”

Labels: dvar torah, judaism, overheard

Russia/Israel

A comment on ADDeRabbi
That reminds me of the guy who told me that we must bring as many [non jews] from Russia as possible. Why? So that they can help make war against the Arabs. And why do you want to make war against the Arabs, I asked him. Guess the answer: so that we can have a Jewish state. Isn't that pretty backward too?

Then again, they can't be worse than the people that we have building our roads and laying our train tracks. Yimach Shemo

Random "peace process" fact:

A look at Israeli-Lebanese prisoner swaps:

• July 16, 2008: Israel frees five militants and begins returning 199 bodies of dead Lebanese and Palestinian fighters in return for remains of two Israeli soldiers held by Hezbollah

• 2004: Hezbollah exchanges Israeli civilian and bodies of three Israeli soldiers for Israel's release of 436 Arab prisoners and bodies of 59 Lebanese fighters.

• 1996: Israel frees 65 Lebanese prisoners to get back bodies of two soldiers lost in fighting in Lebanon.

• 1991: Israel trades 51 Lebanese prisoners for evidence confirming death of Israeli soldier in Lebanon.

• 1985: Three Israeli soldiers held by Lebanese guerillas are returned in exchange for Israel freeing 1,150 Arab prisoners, almost all of them Palestinians.

• 1983: Israel swaps 4,600 Palestinian and Lebanese captives for six Israeli soldiers captured in Lebanon.

I'm not counting but why is Israel in the business of trading people for bodies?

Labels: conversion, Israel, russia

I have a friend named Gifty but this isn't her

I don't remember where I first read this but I think credit goes to What Would Phoebe Do?.
I am not a fan of the rightward swing of the Orthodox world in general. I have no problem with piety; but since community standards have moved more into line with written law (read about it), we have shrunken our "big tent". But this week’s NY Magazine story about Satmar and a woman named Gitty isn't only an affront to right wing orthodoxy (if we can call Satmar that), it's a crudely shaped attack on the freedom to not live as a drug addicted hipster. The author of the article seems to take umbrage with the fact that poor Gitty isn't allowed to have custody over her daughter, despite the fact that her life was recently: "hanging out, some on acid, playing Hasidic songs, wrapping each other in prayer shawls, shouting praises of the Baal Shem Tov, and screaming they were the new hippies." The bias is evident in the reporter’s depiction of the court proceedings:

Obviously, this was Yoely’s plan from the start, Gitty said. He knew about the rebels, that Gitty had hung out with them. Gitty’s lawyer, Daniel Schwartz, offered his client only cold comfort. “You fail that test, and you can kiss custody good-bye,” he told her. “You’re sunk.”

If checking to find out if the mother of his child is still a daily drug user is a "plan" then I hope that all fathers "plan" carefully when they are negotiating for custody. This is a simple tale of a marriage gone wrong and a banal custody fight, not the cultish disaster depicted here. She herself doesn't even claim that she was prevented from leaving, held hostage, and all that seems to be preventing her from getting more custody over her daughter is a general lack of stability. It would be impossible for the author to understand the twists and turns of the moderate Orthodox community, much less the trip down the rabbit hole that is Satmar. And is it me or did the author mostly choose pictures of Gitty showing a little leg or cleavage?

But as much as I'm critical of the reportage I have an equal amount of bewilderment at the inner workings of Satmar. When it is clear that a woman is going off of the derech, why aren’t there people who have connections to “middle of the road” orthodox communities; so when someone who chafes against the hard embrace that is Satmar, they can find a place for her there. Surely it’s better for a woman to be shomer mitzvos (but not like the Satmar) than to live in NYC like a shiktza. The other subtext to this sad situation is the ongoing issue of baal teshuvah integration into established communities. Was Gitty’s mother prepared to raise a little girl in her chosen shtetle? Raising frum girls is hard enough when you yourself grew up that way, from what I hear it’s even more difficult when your childhood bears no resemblance to the experiences of your child. Also, at what age was Gitty brought into the Satmar world? What damage did her mother’s remarriage do to Gitty? What support systems are there for those who are in combined families, Gitty didn’t seem to have a positive experience:

“Soon, very possibly, Esther Miriam would become nothing more than an afterthought, the bad memory of her ex-husband’s first, terribly failed marriage. She’d be the older stepsister charged with the care of her younger, favored siblings, a drudge cleaning between the floorboards for weeks before each Passover, someone who saw beautiful rainbows and felt only dread.”

*sigh*

UPDATE: her blog

Labels: Chassidim, divorce, judaism, Satmar

IT

He doesn't hate Israel, he doesn’t. He’s been accused of late of not fulfilling the mitzvah of loving this bowl of sand, Sabras and Arabs… But he doesn’t. What he hated, he realized was what Israel was supposed to be. Finding an apartment, buying furniture, making shabbos and becoming a responsible citizen of Am Israel were all that he’d hoped for, dreamed for, in the years when he hammered and twisted himself into this new self. The patterns that they’d built together, rising with the sun to divide into their separate selves until sundown when they’d reunite as a fractious shared identity, had begun to be the template through which he viewed his life. But the rhythms of that life were far-away music for him, like the sound of a waterfall relentlessly drumming away in the distance, the deep bass vibrating the air in a way that fools you into thinking the rushing water is just around the next bend, near but tantalizingly intangible.

It was hard to believe that there was no way out. That there was no way he could have prevented this from happening; a bit of advice before they’d gone on that last date, some early counseling, or the right combination of words to smooth over a fight seemed like it could have completely changed the course of things for him… But as he sat there in the antiseptic office he was told that since IT had already happened it must have been Gd’s will.

Before IT had even happened everyone knew, the whispered secret passed from woman to woman like wine in a paper bag; intoxicating and delicious at first but nauseating the moment that one compared situations. So when IT was done he remembered thinking, “I suppose there’s no use trying to hide.” But when he emerged from the basement he didn’t want to be seen trying to move on with life, trying to enjoy himself; it seemed fitting to live life like an elegy for what should have been. Each second of time passing was another footstep away from the dream; to not move, secluding himself behind closed doors seemed like a way to stay immobile, to slow the gradual slide… The few things he’d done to keep himself going while he was in the basement had only gotten him dirty looks and cold shoulders. What person wouldn’t glare at this “destroyer of worlds”; his actions, scary in their implications for her own union. He hadn’t heard what they were saying about him, but the silence that enveloped him when he tried to interact with any of the other “friends” he’d had was palpable. And any attempt to bridge the gap just provided fodder for the rumor mill; so he stopped trying, and went back into the basement…

“When good things happened, like when you raced did your coach deserve the credit? Did you?”
He knew that it was a trick question, the old man certainly didn’t believe that he was the first to tell him the punch-line so he surely wasn’t surprised when he answered, “No, Gd.”
“So isn’t it chutzpah to think that you are in control now?”

Eventually the sympathetic eyes began to stand out from the hard stares of the crowd. Besides the feeling of relief, was disappointment that he’d made such a superficial impression in the land of milk and honey… The wheels of his plane seemed to have only touched land long enough to be singed by the hot soil. A few times someone came up to him and said, “I didn’t take sides.” At the time he thought these entreaties to be insincere, it couldn’t be easy to speak to the person that had hurt HER so; but in retrospect maybe it wasn’t Gd given blind obligation that had propelled the words out of their mouths… But he didn’t want to burden them with the responsibility of keeping the mask on their face, or test their loyalty; so when he swung open the door this time he didn’t try to connect to them. And it was easier. He remembered taking a breath, swinging open the door and plunging back into life; his pallor helped, it reminded the multitude that he too had a piece carved out of him. “Eventually,“ he thought as he met a glower eye to eye, “I’ll dance beyond this.” But during his first visit out he needed constant reassurance, “I’m still ok?” He asked, as if he couldn’t check his own body for cuts and scrapes. In one of the dark times when he was alone he realized that the nagging pain wasn’t loss, but the lingering ghost of his dream; disappointment haunting his every moment, every decision…

“If you are alive, then you are loved. If you begin to stumble, begin to falter then you must remember that we are all of us, and the Ribono Shel Olam… Just as you will go ask your corporeal friend for help, how much more so that you should ask “He-That-Created-You” for help.”
“But for some reason he doesn’t want me to be happy, I wish he’d just leave me alone”
“The fact that you are sitting before me is proof that he is sustaining you… But you’ve forgotten the ultimate purpose of good in this world that I taught you.”
“No. It’s a tool for more good; along with all that is bad in the world.”

One day it all changed, he couldn’t remember when or how; just that one day he woke up and it was over. Because one impossible dream had died it gave birth to two new ones; two shiny and bright practical dreams. They may not have been as enticingly vivid as the dead illusion, but they were real, and whole. This realization that ultimately the whole experience was not a world being turned upside down, but rather right side up changed the palette. That’s all this was, a return to normalcy. There are 10,000 people just like them in Israel each year, but this was their catastrophe their own “death in the family”, they were two people that happened to each other. The professionals told him that if IT hadn’t happened they might still be chasing around the same circles, might still be singing two different discordant songs; only this time destroying the ears of another generation. He knew that he didn’t want to leave another generation living with the ghost of what should have been, to spend a moment at 5, 10, 16 or 32 in a shadow…

“Should I start work, or continue in America?”
“Learn learn, isn’t it a schus to give money so other people may learn Torah!?! Go, learn…” He swayed for a moment with his eyes closed then nodded, “Go learn in Yiddish.”
“Do you have a shidduch?” He asked.
“Uhm, no… IT happened.”
More swaying, then he pinched his cheek and nodded his head while he intoned, “A good shidduch.”

Labels: divorce

is it wrong that this made me laugh

In response to the "it's not frum to compliment your dates" postings "david" said:

Never-- but NEVER-- compliment a girl on a date! If she thinks you're attracted to her, she'll start to take you for granted, and that will establish the dynamic for the rest of your (miserable) relationship. If a bochur really wants to impress a girl on a date, he should look at her once, roll his eyes piously to heaven, and cry out "Oy! Why do I always get stuck with the ugly ones?!" In between discussing how much she'll have to earn to support him while he's learning, he should throw in comments like "was your nose always like that, or were you in a car accident?" or "You know, a good plastic surgeon might be able to fix some of that." Another great line is, "I can't help but notice that your breasts are uneven; will you still be able to nurse?" No woman could possibly resist this.

Snark!

Labels: dating

Sinnerman

So I was watching my favorite (read: nearly only) TV show that I still keep up with through the magic of the internet (read: piracy) and I heard this song that I thought was awesome. The only unique part of the song that I could hear was a woman saying "sinner man", but my google-fu is strong and I "Felt Lucky" which is great because I got the song instantly.

DJ Felix da Housecat - Sinnerman

"Seven deadly sins... and the original old catholic one, not the newer PC ones. Good idea other than the words 'sinnerman' what's the connection?" I wondered to myself. The two things I loved about the Felix da Housecat remix was the distinctive voice and the piano riff that plays throughout the song... The voice was really really familiar too. Which made sense because after I checked wikipedia I found that the original un-remixed version was by Nina Simone.

Nina Simone - Sinnerman

Her version of "I Love you Porgy" is on a compilation CD that I have stashed away somewhere back home... What I didn't know about Nina Simone was that she was such an accomplished pianist, what sounds like a drum machine was actually the work of human hands that had been practicing from childhood. Her delivery of the words depict the desperation of the songs subject perfectly; the way she screams "I said, rock!..." paints a picture of a man driven by fear scrambling to find some sort of safety. The lyric "All on that day?" is clearly an eschatological reference, but it wasn't until I read the full words that I saw that the song was a simple moral tale of a sinner at the end of his luck:

Nina Simone was definitely not the first person to record it, the earliest version that I could find is from 1917. It's identified as an "American" traditional spiritual but the strict repetition of the versus sounds like a work song or at the very least stems from a "call and response" pattern introduced to the western world by black slaves. The version that Nina Simone "jazzed up" was made popular by The Weavers, a group that are folk music's Elvis. They extracted songs from their contexts in little known cultures across the world and homogenized them for western tastes. The best example of this is Pete Seeger's transformation of the rough South African township's "Mbube" into "Wimoweh" or "The Lion Sleeps Tonight". In any case Sinnerman is a simple tale of a man who finally has to pay the piper, it's interesting that some versions have the man being completely rejected by Gd while others have him forgiven in the end. The idea of a "devil" with power and a realm independent of Gd is antithetical to Judaism, but I think the overall idea of the work is something that we do believe in:

Do not rely on nobles, nor on a human being for he holds no salvation. When his spirit departs he returns to earth, on that day his plans all perish. Praiseworthy is one whose help is Jacob's Gd, whose hope is H', his Gd.

I'll leave with with a reggae variant: Pete Tosh's "Downpressor Man"

Labels: music, Nina Simone

My other crush

Not to leave anyone out

I first listened to her in 2002 from a CD that a friend had. Regina Spektor or Регина Спектор to her friends, makes me want to all at once lead an army taking over a city and curl up in a ball and have fantastic dreams about being a space explorer. Her songs are generally epic, "Us" is either a song about a love so monumental that they literally make a statue of the lovers... or a cute allegory for the development and downfall of Soviet Communism...

My love seems to have strayed a bit with her latest album, I think she's a far more successful songstress when she stays away from heavy instrumentation; but that might be just me, as she seems to have made half of the critic's lists with "Begin to Hope". My favorite album is "Soviet Kitsch", except for the cover... so I made a new one. "Soviet Kitsch" is like Radiohead's "OK Computer", a transition album that divides between significantly different periods of an artists career but contains be best aspects (IMHO) of both styles. With the exception of "Samson" all of Spektor's older material would be too adventurous and dissonant for radio play but her latest stuff seems tailor made.

Labels: crush, music, regina spektor

My man crush

I confess it,
I have a crush
A crush on a man,
Who, all at one time
reminds me of an Israeli politician
and an Arab terrorist

So I'm combing through the massive amounts of stories on this guy when I find this latest puff-piece on Barack.
In response to the question, "What are you listening to now? What's on your iPod?"
He said, "When I was in high school, probably my sophomore or junior year, I started getting into jazz. So I've got a lot of Coltrane, a lot of Miles Davis, a lot of Charlie Parker. I've got all the artists we've already talked about, but I've got everything from Howlin' Wolf to Yo-Yo Ma to Sheryl Crow to Jay-Z."

I've watched this presidential campaign from afar, disgusted at the fanaticism that surrounds Mr. Obama and wanting to not be one of the robots... But I'm coming out of the closet, I <3 Obama. Between his quelling my fears about protecting Israel, and the fact that he's a black leader demanding that African Americans work on themselves rather than following the traditional lines of advocacy as established by Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton. With his iPod revelation I've turned the corner... In fact, I am now convinced that I must turn into Barack Obama except more Jewish and less presidential. And why can't I? I too always get, "he speaks to well" (<- some hairy language there) and my father's from Africa!

Then again I probably have half the brains, I didn't go to an ivy and I'm not interested in becoming a lawyer or politician. Oh well... And I'm not sure that I'll actually vote for him on election day

Labels: Barack Obama, crush, mancrush

Middos, and war in Sudan

I was invited specifically to be a foil between my rav and the non-jewish guests that his family had invited to the meal. Besides the questions about whether non-Jews can make certain brachos and if one would be over on lifnei-iver for saying a dvar torah in a mixed audience the evening went swimmingly...
Except for the fact that I couldn't translate this phrase into Twi:

Simba: Man, I'm stuffed.
Pumbaa: Me, too. I ate like a pig.
Simba: Pumbaa, you *are* a pig.

The Rav's daughters have been "collecting" how to say these lines in as many languages as they can and my complete lack of Twi fluency was disappointing.

What disappointed me was the later discussion about the situation of most of Africa. The consensus of most of the frum side of the table was that the instability of most of the African countries and the atrocities that has been repeated time and time again in the wars that have ravaged the continent stem largely from some sort of inborn trait (midda). I am at a loss to understand why the wars in Africa are so brutal, only a monster could justify the cutting off of arms and legs, but only a narrow view of history yields the perspective that the African violence is unique... The western world saw similar violence throughout most of its history (ever wonder why we say "pay through the nose"?) and Africa's development has been hindered tremendously by colonialism. It goes against my general distaste for moral relativism to in any way excuse the barbarism in places like Rwanda, Congo or Sierra Leone. But I do wonder, "who appointed the west as the authority on how one is supposed to conduct war?" Is war any less barbarous because it's fought with laser-guided missiles and M16s? At a time when the US military is having a hard time fighting muslim insurgencies using the rules of engagement originally developed for fighting the wars of the 1910s and has caused a large amount of "civilian casualties" perhaps there should be a more nuanced view of the wars of Africa.

But I was most frustrated by the lack of perspective on African history. Much of the instability in Africa is a direct result of Africans having had no part in determining their own political and social destiny until recent times. Between having the borders of countries drawn without respect to traditional ethnic borders (as has happened in Europe) and acting as the battleground for the US and the USSR's proxy fights during the cold war it's little wonder that most of sub-Saharan Africa has had its lines redrawn more times than a set of construction documents.

But I had another thought... The idea that people are forced by external factors to become barbarians is patently false. The poor person is no less chiav for stealing the loaf of bread than the rich man. True, it is more understandable... but the actions are the same. So if I apply the same structure toward national struggles as I would apply to a personal struggle, the preliminary deficiencies that Africa faces aren't only surmountable… They are a call to greatness. After all: the tzaddik will never stand in the place of the baal-teshuva. But, and this is how I ended the discussion, I think that sub-Saharan Africa will be besieged by constant turmoil for hundreds of years, righteousness is only possessed by the few. So maybe the scores of different peoples do really need to work on their middos on a personal and national level.

Labels: Africa, middos, Pumbaa

Chabad principal... in a school with brown people!

I've read/heard about this story before, but I was skeptical... It's a little light on specifics though, I'd like to hear what specifically he did to change the gestalt at the school.

Story that I liked:
Rav Shlomo Zalman was once sitting with someone on a crowded city bus when a woman got onto the bus and couldn't find a place to sit. Rav Shlomo Zalman turned to the younger person sitting next to him and told him that either he should get up and give her his seat, or Rav Shlomo Zalman will give up his seat. The younger fellow got up and Rav Shlomo Zalman sat next to the women without any hesitation. - Revach L'Neshama

Labels: Chabad, education

shabbos songs #6

Post and run this time, so this shabbos' song is Sigur Rós' "Fljótavík". I've been obsessed with this band for ages... but their newest CD is a bit too, poppy for me. But Fljótavík is classic S.R.
I hope you all have a great shabbos! It was a good week for me and I look forward to the next, after all it has infinite potential. Gutte Shabbos

Sigur Rós - Fljótavík

Labels: Shabbos songs

27 Things for my 27th year

1. 27 was a good day to die for Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, and Kurt Cobain
2. 27 is the gematria of אור
3. there are 27 letters of the hebrew alphabet
4. "Mister Rogers," a cultural icon and kindly neighbor to generations of American children, died on February 27th 2003
5. Some strange website says that we start aging at 27
6. The Dumbbell Nebula Messier 27 (M27, NGC 6853) is perhaps the finest planetary nebula in the sky, and was the first planetary nebula ever discovered.
7. If you add up all the numbers between 2 and 7, the total is 27.
8. Cobalt has the atomic number 27
9. The 27th amendment reads: The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each State, elected by the people thereof, for six years; and each Senator shall have one vote.
10. 27 Dresses was a really horrible movie
11. 27 is a prime number
12."And there will be goats' milk enough for thy food, for the food of thy household; and maintenance for thy maidens." is the 27th and last pasuk of the 27th perek of mishlei
13. Marcus Julius Agrippa II (b. AD 27/28), was the seventh and last king of the family of Herod the Great
14. Uranus has 27 moons
15. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart wrote 27 concertos and was born on a 27
16. Natalia Hernandez had a mastectomy at Age 27
17. 27 is the age that baseball players are traditionally thought to be at peak playing shape
18. An article published on a 27 shows men choose pretty older women over younger women... goes against traditional thinking
19. The U.S. Army Physical Fitness Charts for Males Age 27-31 says I score 94 in pushups
20 The fourth pasuk of the 27th perek of tehillim is:
"One thing have I asked of the LORD, that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life,
to behold the graciousness of the LORD, and to visit early in His temple."
21. U.S. Route 27 (US 27) is a north-south United States highway in the southern and midwestern United States.
22. Sir Sidney Poitier (born February 20, 1927) is an Oscar, Golden Globe, BAFTA, and Grammy-winning Bahamian-American actor, film director, and author.
23. Pictures with the number 27 on flickr
24. Donald L Bren is the #27 Richest American
25. Rusty Wallace used to run the number 27 in Nascar
26. The Nacional 27 is a modern Latin restaurant with ceviche bar and weekend Salsa dance club.
27. On June 30th 2008, I turned 27