23 Feb

The Peril and Spiritual Transformation of the Wilderness Experience


Categories: in Bible, biblical theology, Conversion, Hassidic Theology, Heart-Centered Judaism, Judaism and Ecology, Talmud, Zohar, and Midrash, Theology and Philosophy

Shepherding is inextricably related to the wilderness. In its broadest sense, the wilderness represents a realm of chaos that threatens human civilization and consciousness. In psychological terms, the wilderness may be found in the depths of the unconscious; it is a region that leaves one feeling helpless, alone, and out of control, which threatens all orderly existence. This pattern occurs again and again throughout the Tanakh. Yet, despite the dangers one faces in the wilderness, it is always the place of revelation and transformation. As a result, the wilderness frequently functions as a vehicle for conversion.

Since wilderness imagery figures prominently in the narratives of the Israelites found in the Pentateuch and later in the life experiences of King David, it is important to examine why the wilderness metaphor became one of the enduring root metaphors of ancient Israel, as well as in numerous prophetical passages. One might further assert that wilderness and shepherding connote a spiritual and psychological nexus that is often ignored by biblical theologians. Five general themes emerge out the wilderness imagery: abandonment, revelation, covenant, miraculous provision, and judgment.

To begin with, the Hebrew word מִדְבַּר (midbar) is usually rendered as either “wilderness”[1] or “desert.” Several translations render מִדְבַּר as “wilderness,” while other translations prefer “desert.”[2] Although both terms are similar, there are some distinctive connotative differences. Among the definitions of the word “wilderness,” the American Heritage Dictionary states:

1. An unsettled, uncultivated region left in its natural condition, especially:

a. A large wild tract of land covered with dense vegetation or forests.

b. An extensive area, such as a desert or ocean that is barren or empty; a waste.

c. A piece of land set aside to grow wild.

2. Something characterized by bewildering vastness, perilousness, or unchecked profusion: the wilderness of the city; the wilderness of counterespionage; a wilderness of voices.

In contrast, “desert” means:

1. A barren or desolate area, especially:

a. A dry, often sandy region of little rainfall, extreme temperatures, and sparse vegetation.

b. A region of permanent cold that is largely or entirely devoid of life.

c. An apparently lifeless area of water.

2. An empty or forsaken place; a wasteland: a cultural desert.

3. Archaic A wild, uncultivated, and uninhabited region.

[ME , OFr. < LL. desertum, neut. p. part of deserete, to desert.

In Hebrew, the noun   מִדְבַּר includes both definitions. According to a number of modern scholars, the Sinai technically is not a desert. Professor Jacob Milgrom notes, “Although its scant rainfall cannot support cultivation, it can provide adequate pasturage for the flock.”[3] While the term מִדְבַּר can mean a wilderness, uninhabited land[4], pastureland[5], and sometimes it can denote a desert. When used as a geographical term, the מִדְבַּר is the opposite of the settled life characterized by urban or semi-urban existence.

One modern Biblical Hebrew lexicon explains, “The wilderness is often described negatively as without grapes, fountains, pools of water, rivers, pleasant places—or as in a notable statement: ‘Can God furnish a table in the wilderness?’” (Ps 78:19).[6] Regardless which definition one prefers, the wilderness, as its English etymology indicates, is a place of bewilderment, peril, isolation, detachment, wandering, desolation, and homelessness.  In the מִדְבַּר we feel cut off from the world; it is a place of loneliness and desertion. For the Israelites the wilderness is the place where they discover God’s capacity to support and sustain amidst harsh living conditions. For the Israelites, foraging through the wilderness involved making a journey into the unknown.

Elsewhere in the Tanakh, the wilderness metaphor is sometimes used to connote the realm of chaos and nothingness (cf. Deut. 32:10, Job 6:18). Understandably, the ancients regarded it as a place of demons, confusion, and wild creatures that prey on its helpless victims.

For the unwary traveler, danger lurked whenever one may passage through the wilderness—especially since there are no short-cuts and ready-made paths. Earlier, one of the definitions for wilderness was “profusion,” since it was commonly feared that the wilderness might invade and threaten their ancestral land.

No wonder it was regarded as a symbol of chaos and disorder! It is easy to lose a sense of time in the wilderness. Yet, in terms of shepherding, shepherding is inseparably related to the wilderness. In a spiritual and metaphorical sense, the wilderness represents the feeling of homelessness and confusion.

Throughout the Tanakh, the Torah narratives dealing with the wilderness are often contrasted with the memories of life in Egypt. Surprisingly, the members of the Israelite nation often preferred the fleshpots, the free fish, the cucumbers, the melons, the leeks, the onions, and the garlic to the manna of the wilderness. Being a slave in meant that Egypt would guarantee the Israelite three meals a day but only at the cost of their human dignity and their spiritual well-being.

For many, security—even if it meant living a life of bondage— seemed more  preferable to the insecurity of freedom. Confronted with a choice, the Israelites could either accept their special destiny as God’s people, or bravely face whatever challenges this would entail, or else they could forfeit their spiritual destiny by submitting to a totalitarian regime that guarantees food.

The wilderness experience serves as a paradigm for all subsequent experiences dealing with the trauma of destruction and exile. The imagery of the Exodus served as a symbol that out of the ashes of  destruction, God will orchestrate a new future that would restore the Jewish people back to their ancestral home—despite the prevailing political conditions and realities.

Over three thousand years later, the images of the wilderness still remain vivid and real. In today’s terms, the wilderness can serve as a metaphor for those who have experience loss, sickness, homelessness, loneliness, divorce, transition, substance abuse, and especially of life of meaninglessness.

Viktor Frankl, the founder of logotherapy, believes that the central human need, more basic than the drive for pleasure, food, or power, is the need for meaning. Human beings require a pattern and purpose that will make sense of our experiences and of the world around us. Meaninglessness threatens not only the inner world of the individual, but also threatens the identity of a society.

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23 Feb

Are Haredim Changing the face of Traditional Judaism?


Categories: in American Jewish Issues, biblical history, biblical theology, Contrarian wisdom, Current Events, ethics, good and evil, Halacha, Hassidic Theology, Heart-Centered Judaism, Humor, Interfaith Dialogue, Israel, Jewish Folklore, Jewish History, judaism, Maimonidean Wisdom, Talmud, Zohar, and Midrash, The Future of Judaism, Theology and Philosophy

For Jewish Values Online:

Are Haredim changing the face of Traditional Judaism? Is the divide between the ultra-Orthodox and other denominations (Modern Orthodox, Conservative and Reform) too great to promote a better understanding and respect between each other?

This is a very important question.

In the 19th century, when Samson Raphael Hirsch laid out his vision of Modern Orthodoxy, he advocated a Judaic philosophy based upon Rabban Gamaliel’s aphorism, “Torah is good together with a worldly occupation” (Avoth 2:2). For Hirsch, this meant that the modern Jew needed to extract the finest aspects of Western culture and still remain committed as a traditional Jew. Hirsch rejected the attitude that is so common today among the Haredim, who categorically condemn the literature of Shakespeare, or the poetry of Virgil, or the philosophical deliberations of Kant and Leibnitz as “bittul Torah,” a waste of time that ought to be reserved solely for Torah study.

Within a century and a half, it is amazing to see how Orthodoxy has changed. On the one hand, there is Yeshiva University, which was conceptually based upon the Hirschian paradigm. However, today’s Haredi and Hassidic communities reject the Hirschian model. They loathe any kind of values that are not explicitly grounded in the Torah. Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv, regarded by the Lithuanians as the greatest Torah scholar of our generation, rejects the pursuit of a secular education—despite the fact that the Haredi families cannot afford to support their households. His approach to Torah is antithetical in nearly every respect to the view that Hirsch articulated in the 19th century. Rabbi Elyashiv is quoted as saying:

  • We must exclude all paths that lead to national service, secular studies, or the army, even if they assure a special framework for Hareidi Jews. Such a framework will subject Hareidi Jews to the control and culture of secular Jews who have thrown off the yoke of Torah. Thus they encourage all sorts of programs, academies, colleges, and the like which promise degrees, licenses, academic credentials, etc., intended to introduce goals and aspirations foreign to our way of life.“The secret and foundation to the survival of Torah and of those who fear G-d and live a life of Torah is absolute separation from the world of the secular, who have thrown off the yoke of Torah.
  • As such we must protest and warn against all sorts of trends from the outside that seek to harm the pure oil of the Hareidi institutions. These institutions must be under the control of the rabbis and must be guided by them, and must exclude all paths that lead to national service, secular studies, or the army, even if they assure a special framework for Hareidi Jews. Such a framework will subject Hareidi Jews to the control and culture of secular Jews who have thrown off the yoke of Torah. Thus they encourage all sorts of programs, academies, colleges, and the like which promise degrees, licenses, academic credentials, etc., intended to introduce goals and aspirations foreign to our way of life. This is in direct contradiction to the instructions of the great rabbis of previous generations, who battled against all institutions that had these purposes, and removed them from the ‘camp of Torah.’ This is especially the case now, where the institutions make clear that their purpose is to change our ways of life, and to instill foreign aspirations – nationalistic and academic – that our forefathers never accepted, bringing us to make inappropriate connections with secular people, those of the ‘culture of sinners.’”[1]

David Landau observes in his book, “Piety and Power: The World of Jewish Fundamentalism,” the current Haredi leadership is doing a grave service to its young people, condemning them and their children to generations of cyclical poverty, fostering reliance upon community assistance warned against by, among others, the great sage Maimonides.

In contrast to Haredi Judaism, Yeshiva University continues to promote Hirsch’s vision to the 21st century. One could be a pious Jew, and yet belong to the modern world. One of the most important leaders of the Modern Orthodox world in the 20th century was Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchick (1903-1993). Like Hirsch before him, Soloveitchick felt that a synthesis of Torah scholarship and modern philosophical thought offers a panoramic view of Judaism that is consistent with the models set forth in the medieval theological expositions of Saadia Gaon, Maimonides, Crescas and other Judaic thinkers. When Soloveitchick gave a class on a Talmudic passage, he often drew didactic comparisons to the thought of Kierkegaard, Kant, and other great Western philosophers.

Today’s leading advocates of Hirschian idealism include Rabbi Norman Lamm, Irving Greenberg, David Hartman and Rabbi Shlomo Riskin, all of whom follow along the footsteps of Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchick. Like Hirsch, each of these scholars stressed that Torah scholarship is capable of producing a creative synthesis with the best aspects of Western civilization. Rabbi Lamm believes that the knowledge of secular culture can only lead to a greater appreciation of Judaic values.

  • Torah, faith, religious learning on one side and Madda, science, worldly knowledge on the other, together offer us a more over-arching and truer vision than either one set alone. Each set gives one view of the Creator as well as of His creation, and the other a different perspective that may not agree at all with the first … Each alone is true, but only partially true; both together present the possibility of a larger truth.[2]

The Orthodox magazine, Mishpacha Magazine (Israel), has been banned by Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv, who wrote in a response, “The opinion of the [upstart] weekly Mishpacha Magazine has given legitimacy to change, to going out into the workplace and earning a living for example, without embarrassment. Now, [this upstart] is challenging the holiest of the holies, [by making it seem as if] the word of the gadol is not final and unquestionable…”[3] As you can see, even Lithuanian rabbis can write with the absolute authority of a Hassidic Rebbe.

Modern Orthodoxy is feeling the assault on its worldview. Many of its rabbis are experiencing the same kind of litmus test for ideological purity that the Conservative and Reform movements have known for several decades. Converts from the Modern Orthodox world are discovering that the Haredi rabbis will not recognize their conversions, and will often nullify their conversions—especially if there is the slightest indication of a halachic—as defined by the Haredi rabbi—violation. Even within the ranks of Haredi Judaism, there has been considerable friction between the Eda Haredit, Chabad, and Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv versus Rabbi Ovadia Yosef and Chief Sephardic Rabbi Rabbi Shlomo Amar, over the issue of IDF military conversions.

The article continues, “Rabbi Seth Farber, the head of ITIM: The Jewish-Life Information Center, however, who set the military conversion dispute into motion when he filed a High Court of Justice petition against marriage registrars who do not recognize military conversions, called the understandings “a cynical use of people’s lives to make political deals, immoral and against the explicit Halacha to not deceive converts.”[4]

In another ruling, there is the story about a Ba’al Teshuvah who did not wish to eat chulent on Shabbat, nor did he shuckle (swaying) when he prayed. When this matter was brought to Rabbi Elyashiv, he rendered the following ruling: Since the Baal Teshuvah behaved properly for the past two years, there is no fear that he worships idols; therefore the wine is not considered yayin nesach. However, for the sake of stringency, he needs to undergo geiur l’humra – a conversion for the sake of stringency, just to remove doubt, based on his refusal to eat cholent and his non-swaying during prayer.[5]

Haredi sexism and gender discrimination are not coming only from the Sikrikim, as one Orthodox rabbi at this website has alluded to in one of my earlier postings; numerous harsh rulings derive from the highest echelons of Haredi power. Here are several other Haredi edicts that pose some of the greatest existential threats to the future of Israel, as a State. In the interest of time, I will cite one more example, although there are literally hundreds of other examples one could use to illustrate the insanity that has gripped the Haredi world.

Forget about blotting out the pictures of women that appear throughout the streets of Jerusalem, Bnai Brak or other cities. A question came up: What should a girl do if she wishes to dress modestly but her parents won’t let her? According to ultra-Orthodox Rabbi Yitzchok Zilberstein, a son-in-law of the 101 year old Haredi leader Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv, she can injure herself in order to use it as an excuse for dressing modestly. “The blood from the self-inflicted wound will atone for the people of Israel.”[6]

Can there be reconciliation between the Ultra-Orthodox and the other branches of Judaism? If the former Chief Rabbis Abraham Isaac Kook and Ben Tsion Uziel were alive today, I would feel more optimistic about such a possibility. However, given the religious fanaticism we have witnessed from the Haredi leadership in Israel and in the United States today, I seriously doubt it.

At times it seems as though a schism is inevitable.

Will Israel, as a modern state, survive? Or will it succumb to the same type of factionalism that led to the loss of our homeland and Temple nearly 2000 years ago?

There is an old story attributed to Maimonides that I would like to mention. Maimonides had more than his fair share of critics. His fame as a physician had reached Sultan Saladin himself, and he served the Sultan throughout his life and afterwards provided care to his royal family. One of the Muslim physicians wanted to demonstrate how foolish Maimonides actually was before the Sultan and the royal court. He said, “I have the question you can’t answer. In my hand, I have a bird. Tell me. Is this bird alive or dead?” Maimonides knew that any answer he would give, the physician would do the opposite of whatever he said. “If I say it’s alive, he will close his hand and smother the bird. If he says it’s dead, he will open his hand and let the bird live.” After a moment, he answered, “You hold in your hand a bird. You ask whether it is alive or dead. I can only tell you one thing. The question of life and death lies in your hands.” Once again, Maimonides demonstrated why he was the Sultan’s favorite physician. Continue Reading

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