Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

Coming downstairs one morning, Lord Congelton heard the cook exclaim, “Oh, if I only had five pounds, wouldn’t I be content!” Thinking the matter over, and anxious to see the woman satisfied, he shortly after handed her a five-pound note, then worth about twenty-five dollars. She thanked him profusely.

He paused outside the door to hear if she would express her satisfaction and thank God. As soon as his shadow was invisible, she cried out, “Why didn’t I say ten?”

Rabbinic wisdom teaches us that he who has $100, wants $200. It is the nature to want more than what we have. When I think of this story, the wisdom of Eric Fromm comes to mind. Fromm survived the camps and published a fascinating book, “To Be or to Have?”  In his study, he raises one of the most important questions of our age: How do we find contentment in our modern contemporary society?

Fromm insists that there are two modes of existence struggling fiercely for the soul of humankind: the “Having mode” vs. the “Being mode.” The Having mode is dedicated to the accumulation of wealth, material possessions, and property. People dedicated to the acquisition of gelt generally tend to be aggressive. Indeed, the reality of war is a grim reminder that people who define their existence by materialistic values will stop at nothing to achieve their values—the recent BP oil disaster is an excellent case in point. Driven by the love of money, principles, ethics often get sacrificed for the bottom line—but always at a cost.

The Being mode represents more of a spiritual attitude. It is not the man who has much who is much; rather, it is the man who is much who has much. Such an attitude focuses one inward development, love, compassion, a kinship with nature, and spiritual evolution as the only values worth perpetuating.

In a prosperous society such as ours, it is not hard to see why there is so much crime and violence. Too often we teach our children that money is the only value that counts. In God we trust, all others pay cash! The advertising industry spends billions to enslave our souls and minds.

Sex is frequently used in commercials to make a product tantalizing; yet, despite the prosperity of our society, record numbers of people committing suicide are on the rise. The wealthy and the powerful are not immune to the same problems we all face.

Without a spiritual orientation, we are indeed, a generation that is lost in space.

What wisdom can we draw from the wellspring of our tradition and parsha? Consider the following thought—consider the lesson of the manna.

Remarkably, rabbinic tradition attributes many wonderful qualities to the manna, which was purported to taste like anything you wanted it to taste like. Hamburger, cheeseburger, you name it—it could taste like your favorite food. Yet, no one person could hoard it all. Each family had exactly what it needed—not more, not less.

The sacred biblical author attributes the following wisdom to Moses:

What  was the purpose of the manna ?  Here the Torah conveys a timeless truth: “Man  does not live on bread alone, but on the emanations that proceed from the mouth of God” ( Deut. 8:3 ).

The  important  lesson  of  the manna was  to  realize  that all sustenance we receive comes from a Higher Source. It makes little difference whether you’re eating a crust of bread, or for that matter expensive caviar. It is all the same. Rav Nachman in own of his famous stories, deals with the  motif of contentment in a story called ” The Simple Man And the Sage.” In Nachman’s writings, the Sage is the sophisticate who is never content with what he has; but the Tam (“simpleton”) recognizes that all of life is a gift from God. To him, a stale crust of bread taste like the manna from Heaven.  As you can see, it is all a matter of perspective. Nachman extols the virtues of the Tam—and for good reason.

Some Jewish mystics, like R. Isaac Luria (16th century)  explains in his commentary that a human being does not live solely on the vitamins and nutrients of bread alone, but on the spiritual energy that gives bread its existence. Man is not just a material   being living in a material world;  we are spiritual beings having a physical experience. Even Madonna, the “material girl” studies and teaches Kabbalah! Continue Reading

Philosopher George Santayana is perhaps best known for saying, “He who forgets the past, is condemned to repeat it.” This attitude finds profound expression in much of the rabbinic literature regarding the period of time that is better known as, “The Three Weeks,” which culminates with the holiday of Tisha B’Av—the Ninth of Av. June 29th marks the 17th of Tammuz–the beginning of the Three Weeks.

During the Three Weeks, we reflect upon the events that led to the loss of Jewish independence. We remember how the death of two million Jews marked the largest number of Jews killed (according to Josephus) prior to the Holocaust. As Jews, memory is never something that is passive; it must be active, dynamic, and—hopefully—transforming.

Unlike most Jewish holidays, Tisha B’Av recalls the time when the Babylonians destroyed the Temple of Jerusalem in the year 586 B.C.E. Jewish tradition also teaches that the Second Temple was also destroyed on this day, but this time it was by the Romans in the year 70 C.E.

THE QUESTION

Thus far, I did not tell you anything you probably did not already know. However, anyone familiar with the biblical chronology of the Temple’s destruction will see an obvious problem with this rabbinic tradition. Historically, the Tanakh teaches us that the Temple was really destroyed on the 10^th of Av (cf. Jer. 52:12-14).

You are probably asking yourselves, “Wait a minute! Something’s wrong with this picture. Jews do not fast on the 10^th of Av, but on the 9^th of Av!”

 Ok, we can now ask the most important Jewish question of the day: Why did the Sages designate the 9^th of Av as the fast day commemorating the Temple’s destruction? One reason suggested is that the Babylonians originally torched the Temple on the 9^th; and from this perspective, the beginning of a tragedy is believed to be greater than its ending. However, this explanation seems to fall short of the mark for according to 2 Kings 25:8-10 plainly states the destruction began on the 7^th of Av and ended on the 10^th!

 To understand the Bible, you must learn to read in between the lines; this same principle applies no less to reading rabbinic texts as well. 

 I suspect the symbolism has more what to do with the Jewish attitude of hope, for the number nine corresponds to the period of pregnancy; our Sages thus teach that the Messiah was born on the 9^th of Av! This would indicate that the seeds of renewal and hope lay in the ashes of the past; despair must not have the final word. The theme of redemption in Jewish history reminds us that each of us plays a pivotal role in the healing of the world that must begin first with healing our own wounded spirit.

 A SHORT TALMUDIC LESSON

 A famous Talmudic story illustrates my point quite nicely.

 About 25 years after the Temple was destroyed by the Romans, four rabbis had a most remarkable discussion when they visited Rome. As Rabban Gamaliel, R. Eleazar b. ‘Azariah, R. Joshua and R. Akiba were walking on the road, they heard the noisy crowds that had just arrived from the Italian port city of Puteoli . . . The Sages began to weep, but R. Akiba was buoyant.

 Shocked by their colleague’s demeanor, they asked him, “Akiba, why are you so happy?” Akiba answered the rabbinic question the same way all rabbis answer a question—with another question! Akiba retorted, “Why are you weeping?” They replied, “Look at these good for nothing pagans, who worship graven images and burn incense to their deities. Why should they be entitled to live in safety and ease? Our Temple, the ‘Footstool’ of our God, has been destroyed by fire—how can we not weep?!”

 Akiba’s answer reflected an optimistic attitude the Sages did not consider. He replied, “That is precisely why I am merry! Look, if this is the fare of those who offend God, how much better will the fare be of those who truly worship their Maker!” Had the Rabbis seen the Vandals’ sack of Rome in 455, they probably would have felt vindicated.

 Scene Two:

As the Sages eventually made their way back to Jerusalem, they arrived at Mount Scopus they saw a fox emerging from the place that used to be the Holy of Holies. Once again, the Sages began to weep, while Rabbi Akiba looked happy.

 They asked him, “Why are you so happy?” He replied, “Why are you so sad?” The Sages replied that the sacred place that proscribed death to anyone else who was the High Priest had now become a haunt for foxes, “How can we not weep at the sight of this tragedy?” But Akiba replied that there were two prophetic predictions about the destruction of Jerusalem.

 Simply put, as far as Akiba was concerned, the prophecy of gloom and doom pertained to the destruction of the first Temple and the Second Temple, but Akiba believed that there would come a future time when the streets of Jerusalem would once again be inhabited by the sound of music and young people. Listen to the prophecy of Zechariah:

 Thus says the LORD of hosts: Old men and old women, each with staff in hand because of old age, shall again sit in the streets of Jerusalem. The city shall be filled with boys and girls playing in her streets.  Thus says the LORD of hosts: Even if this should seem impossible in the eyes of the remnant of this people, shall it in those days be impossible in my eyes also, says the LORD of hosts?  Thus says the LORD of hosts: Lo, I will rescue my people from the land of the rising sun, and from the land of the setting sun. I will bring them back to dwell within Jerusalem. They shall be my people, and I will be their God, with faithfulness and justice. Thus says the LORD of hosts: Let your hands be strong, you who in these days hear these words spoken by the prophets on the day when the foundation of the house of the LORD of hosts was laid for the building of the temple (Zech. 4-9). Continue Reading

Q. I am doing my PhD. in the field of Jewish Studies. In this connection I am interested in the history of Jews in Masonic lodges. According to my knowledge, there is at least in the higher degrees of the Scottish Rite quite a lot of Christian symbolism, I wonder, if there is any halachic ruling concerning the membership of Jews in Masonic lodges. Could you help me here?

A. Good question. Until now, I never really researched the significance of Freemasonry, but I must confess that my father was a Mason and so were many of his Jewish friends. Even more remarkable is the existence of an Orthodox Synagogue in Winchester named Rosh Pina, whose membership consists of Jewish masons. Masonic lodges tended to help support the local businesses, and this was probably one of the main reasons these fraternities were so popular.  The name Rosh Pina is based on the biblical verse, “The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone” (Psalms 118:22).

Despite the popularity of this international fraternity, there is no official or formal definition regarding what is a Freemason. Much of its history is shrouded in legend and ambiguity. Many of its members trace back its symbolism to the original builders of the Egyptian pyramids or for that matter, Solomon’s Temple. According to Masonic legend, King Hiram I of the Phoenician city of Tyre (980-947 B.C.E.) the master-builder of Solomon’s Temple, was murdered because he would not reveal the secrets of his Masonic group. Needless to say, there is no historicity supporting this folk story, but it does reveal something about the medieval groups that kept their own traditions secretive. According to historians, the Freemasonry lodge did not begin in ancient Judea, or in Egypt, but in England sometime in the 14^th century! [1]

At any rate, Masonic traditions are pretty benign. The working tools of the Masons became a system of symbols for personal morality and initiation.

Most folks know the Masons are a charitable organization which has secret rites and symbols. In religious terms, their behavior and traditions strikes one as an American civil religion. The fraternity believes in rendering homage to the Creator, which they regard as the duty of each of its members. Although Freemasonry only began as an institution in the seventeenth century, it has generated a mythology, or legendary history, according to which its followers claims dates back to  the biblical reign of Solomon and the building of the Temple.

Many of this country’s founding fathers were Masons. In this country and in Europe,  Freemasonry was linked to various programs of political and religious reform, programs that emphasized freedom of thought, worship, association, and the press and contributed considerably to the French and American revolutions.

Some Masonic lodges found it hard to give up their old prejudices with respect to the Jews. In Germany and Austria, Masonic lodges barred Jews from belonging. There is also another dark history to masonry. In the 19^th century, American Freemasons, along with others of like mind, created the Know‑Nothing party in the 1850s, the Ku Klux Klan after the Civil War and again from 1915 onward, and the American Protective Association in the latter 1880s and early 1890s. All were even more anti‑Catholic than they were antiblack or xenophobic, in addition to being anti-Semitic. In defense of the Masonic movement, these splinter groups did not reflect the values of the Masonic philosophy.

At any rate, Jews found the Masonic lodges to be open in a time when discrimination was rampant in Western society. The Masonic constitution held that any good or honest person, regardless of his denomination or persuasion, was admitted. The constitution obliged the member only to hold “to that religion in which all men agree, leaving their particular opinions to themselves,” a declaration of religious tolerance based on the current Deist trend, which postulated a Supreme Being who could be conceived of by any rational being. It remains a mystery whether Jews may have influenced the wording of the Masonic constitution, but its liberal doctrines made it easy for Jews to belong.  A Jewish lodge, the Lodge of Israel, was established in London in 1793, and the Knights of Aphesis to this day, is a Jewish lodge in the Masonic movement. Indeed, I am told that there are many Jewish Masonic lodges all around the world. One gets the impression that the religious ideation of the lodge will vary from community to community.

Concerning Masonic lodges in the land of Israel had as many as 64 lodges with over 3500 active members consisting of  Jews, Muslims, Christians, and Druze. The activities of the Grand Lodge and its several lodges include: a mutual insurance fund; the Masonic old age home at Nahariyyah; Masonic temples all over the country; and a museum and library (Encyclopedia Judaica) . Israeli Masonic Lodges show the kind of healing power Freemasonry can produce in a society that is religiously divided.

With respect to the rest of your questions, I would like to briefly examine some of the Masonic  teachings and rituals.

Curiously, many of its rituals and symbolism draw its roots from the Kabbalah.  In the Kabbalah, the interest in a knowledge of sounds, written letters, and words was intensified. Each sign was given a magical value that had a religious meaning and a numerical relationship. For example, the Hebrew letter alef became the symbol of mankind and the abstract principle of material objects.

Most importantly, Freemasonry taught that  they are building a spiritual temple in heaven. Each member regardless of his religion must fashion himself into a perfect living stone to fit into the spiritual temple of God. Indeed, this idea bears considerable similarity to the Tikkun Olam “Repairing the world” which the Kabbalists stress, is every human being’s duty. This concept is referred to as the “Common Gavel.” The common gavel serves as a metaphor for the breaking off the rough and superfluous parts of the stone, so as to be fit for the Supreme Architect’s use.  Accepted Masons, are taught to make use of it for the more noble and glorious purpose of divesting their hearts and consciences of all the vices and superfluities of life: thereby fitting the Mason’s  minds as living stones for that spiritual building. The Mason thus, makes himself fit for heaven by bettering himself through eliminating unwanted qualities. This spiritual lesson holds true for any Mason, regardless of his god or religious persuasion. The Kabbalists also refer to this same process as “etcafiyah” – bending the material impulses to the service of the Divine.

Another one of the building instruments Masons use involves a trowel, which they use to spread cement. Here too, the symbolism represents spreading  the cement of brotherly love and affection; that cement which unites people into one sacred band or society of friends and brothers, among whom no contention should exist, so that all people may work and exist in perfect harmony. Continue Reading

The book is inching closer toward publication. We are hoping for a late April date.

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Birth and Rebirth Through Genesis. . . adroitly moderates a virtual conversation between traditions and thinkers. This book is a wondrous springboard into a rewarding dialogue between  biblical scholarship and the philosophical perspective.

Micah D. Halpern, author of THUGS, The Micah Report, and Jewish Legal Writings by Women

“A fascinating, learned, and wide-ranging commentary that creatively blends the  insights of ancients, medievals, moderns, and post-moderns. . .Readers will enjoy this book.”

Prof. Warren Zev Harvey, [Chair, Department of Jewish Thought], The Hebrew University of Jerusalem ,

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I believe that all who carefully read this book are in for a deeply rewarding experience. A study of the text and commentary of Birth and Rebirth through Genesis: The Timeless Theological Commentary will contribute greatly to an understanding of the rich and diverse fabric of biblical narrative and provide an appreciation for its creative application to the problems of the modern world . . . Birth and Rebirth through Genesis is a book for Jews and Christians.

Prof. Marvin R. Wilson, Author of Our Father Abraham: Jewish Roots of the Christian Faith

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The book is a profound exploration of the important metaphors, symbols and archetypal structures of Genesis. . . Most remarkable about this stunning array of insights is that it leaves space for personal discovery, and time to hear the beat of heart-thoughts behind the words.

Paul Pines, author of My Brother’s Madness. Continue Reading

Students of the Bible often wonder about the mysterious identity of the three “men,” who visited Abraham (Gen 18ff.).

The identity of the angelic beings has stirred many controversies among scholars over for over two millennium. The 12th century rabbinic savant, Abraham Ibn Ezra, explains that these three men were in fact, human beings who were sent by God to bring a message to Sarah, while the other two later went to Sodom.

A similar thought is found in the theological writings of Maimonides and the 14th century Karaite scholar Aharon ben Eliyahu, both who maintain that prophets are occasionally referred to as “angels” as it says “but they kept mocking the messengers of God, despising his words, and scoffing at his prophets, until the wrath of the LORD against his people became so great that there was no remedy” (2 Chron. 36:16). There were other individuals who were blessed with a spiritual sense of God’s Presence besides Abraham (cf. Gen. 25:22-23).

The 14th century rationalist  and astronomer Levi ben Gersonides develops this insight a bit further while adding that this interpretation is harmonious with the verse “He looked up and saw three men standing near him.”

As to the obvious question, “Why did the Torah later describe these men as “angels” in the narrative of Lot (19:1)?” Gersonides replies, that a prophet is sometimes referred to as an angel. These prophets didn’t come for the sake of Abraham, who was also a prophet, but their purpose was to inform Sarah about the prospect of her pregnancy. As we have mentioned earlier, Gersonides accepts the view that angels can be human beings empowered by God.

Thus, when the Torah tells us that three “men” visited Abraham, the Torah means exactly what it says —these  three “men” were exactly that–men!

As we will soon see, it is not the personality that defines what an angel is, it is the role that the angel plays. When we look at it from this perspective, it is as Gersonides and other have noted, unimportant whether the “men” who visited with Abraham were truly human or supernatural beings merely appearing as “men” since God could have chosen either one for carrying out His purpose.

From a grammatical perspective, the term מַלְאָך (mal˒āk) may mean a message bearer (Gen. 32:2), or personal representatives (2 Sam. 11:4), or political emissaries (Josh. 11:12-14; 2 Sam. 5:11). However, in some of the apocalyptic prophecies, angels appear to truly be supernatural beings on a mission (much like the Blues Brothers) from God (cf. Zech 1:9; 5:5; 2 Sam. 24:17; Gen 19:12-17). As mentioned earlier, with respect to angels, the message is far more important than the individual messenger. Continue Reading

A Parable of Two Ships

Rabbinic wisdom speaks of a well known parable about two ships were sailing near the shore; one headed toward the open sea, while the other headed toward the harbor. Everyone was cheering the outgoing ship. But very few cheered for the incoming vessel. A sage observed, there is something paradoxical about all this. The outgoing ship should not be cheered, for nobody knows what lies ahead in wait for it. Nobody knows what stormy seas it may encounter; what dangers might lie ahead of the person as she continues her voyage.  But everyone ought to be cheering the incoming ship, for it has clearly reached the port safely. The ship concluded its journey in peace. Loved ones were now united; life begins anew once more. . . .

We are here to pay tribute to a most remarkable woman, Esther Avruch,  whose voyage through life was full of danger, loss, joy and triumph.  survived the horrors of the Holocaust and made a wonderful life.

Esther’s Life

Let me tell you a little bit about Esther’s life. She was born July 15, 1929, in Sochaczew, Poland, the daughter of Avrum-Scholum  and Miriam Fleischman.  She was the third youngest of ten children, Esther, and one of her sisters were the only family members to survive the Warsaw Ghetto and the Holocaust.

Like many children in Eastern Europe, religious families sent their children to Catholic schools to learn secular studies, while spending the rest of the day learning about Judaism. (My father also attended Catholic school with all of his siblings–despite the fact that they were Hasidic Jews; this was quite common in Eastern Europe because there were no public schools.) Esther learned at the one of the first Beth Ya’akob schools for Jewish girls. Esther could still remember the songs she learned in school. She dressed up like a Jewish princess whenever she attended services, which she always loved doing. Esther also learned to speak several languages that included, Yiddish, Polish, and Hebrew.

Every week, she used to clean her home for the Sabbath; she had a very happy childhood. Esther especially loved dressing up for the Sabbath in her finest clothes.

The Beginning of the War Years

As Hitler approached Poland, anti-Semites used to say, “Just wait till Hitler comes to Poland . . .” The situation grew worst in Sochaczew, and the family decided to leave for Warsaw, where they thought life would be safer.

In one of the buildings they were hiding, a German bomb exploded the building but miraculously nothing happened. This happened on September 3^rd of 1939.

One of the worst experiences occurred on Yom Kippur when all the Jews were huddled at the synagogue, when the Nazis started bombing it.  Esther’s sister Raisel, was injured in the attack; they ran away to their home where they hid in the cellar.

For now, everything was ok—or so it seemed. There was no water, and little Esther had to shlep miles  to bring just a few buckets of water. Warsaw was conquered by the Nazis, and the family had no choice but to go back to their home town. After the Nazis took over, every Jewish home was burned to the ground; the Jews had to wear armbands with the Mogen David insignia on it. As if the Nazis were bad enough, many Poles proved that they could be  just as cruel, and would beat the Jews, and seize their food and water.

Miracles

After a while, Esther and her family were reunited with their father and brothers in Warsaw. Despite the theft of their food and water, Esther did her best to survive and survive she did. When typhus broke out, it was the wisdom of their mother, who protected her children. Anyone going to a hospital, simply never returned.

Starving for food and drink, simple Polish peasants, like a miracle from God, shared their food with the family. They were friends of Esther’s father’s business partners. They acted morally and with compassion. As the war continued, the Germans threatened to kill any Pole who would dare save a Jew. The pious Polish Christian family was gunned down, one by one, for daring to save the Jews.

Esther’s mother, Miriam, always shared with what little food with others who were starving as well.

Throughout the ordeal, Esther did her best to maintain contact with her brother Scharma, who was working at a Polish factory in Warsaw. During that time, she managed to smuggle bread to her brother. At one point, she was caught and beaten by the Nazis for helping the Jews.

Another kind Polish family got her a fake birth certificate, and she then assumed the name Marsia Rakowsa. Because the Nazis never suspected that Esther was Jewish because she had blond features. This act of kindness enabled Esther to survive the war. With this birth certificate, she was able to obtain a ration card, which also helped her escaped getting arrested. On more than one occasion, Esther had to face the German officers and tell them she was an orphan, after her parents were killed in a bombing raid. She attended Church services,  sung Christian songs and nobody suspected that she was Jewish.

Just prior to the what was to be the famous Warsaw Ghetto Uprising, she found out about the plan of the Jews to fight back, and that she needed to prepare herself a special bunker where she would remain safe.  Instead, she decided to take her chances on the Polish side rather than remain in the bunker.  Esther said to herself, “If I am to die, I would rather die in the open air, than die in a bunker.”

Esther’s intuition saved her once more, for after the Germans came in and crushed the revolt, there were no more survivors in any of the bunkers. If people were not killed immediately with their families, they were shipped to the Treblinka concentration camp. She recalls that while her brothers Scharma, Yitzchak, and Benjamin were in the trains, they jumped from the train as the Germans began shooting at them, killing Isaac in the process.  Scharma was knocked out for a while, only to be robbed and attacked by the Poles in a forest nearby. That was the last time she saw her brother Scharma.  Eventually, he was captured and killed by the Nazis. Continue Reading

Purim has a “carnivalesque”  quality both in terms of its original narrative, as well as how the holiday is celebrated. Despite its joyous display of festivities and mardi gras, the holiday masks a very serious reality—the precarious nature of Jewish survival.

One of my favorite literary critics, the 20th century Russian literary critic Mikhail Bakhtin, defined the carnivalesque as a literary mode that subverts and liberates the  assumptions of the dominant style or atmosphere through humor, chaos, and paradox.

The carnivalesque vision is utopian in that it exposes the hierarchical distinctions of our social order as arbitrary, relative–a matter of social convention.  Hans Christian Andersen’s famous short story, The Emperor’s New Clothes, illustrates the carnivalesque spirit that ridicules monarchs who believe that their social position makes them inherently superior to the common person is altogether ridiculous–even illusory.

The experience of the carnival–with all the social niceties, hierarchies within a given social order, perceptions of truth, the concepts of reverence or piety and etiquettes–are profaned and overturned by normally suppressed voices and energies. A fool may suddenly appear wise, kings may transform into beggars, worlds of opposites co-mingle as if reality itself has turned upside down upon its head.

Many of Bahktin’s ideas can be seen in the story of how Esther and Mordechai thwarted a genocide that was being planned against the Jewish people.

In the book of Esther, the king’s penchant for partying, immediately displays to the reader a surreal world where the beautiful Queen Vashti is suddenly treated as  though she were a common stripper at a bachelor party. Continue Reading

In the previous posts, we touched upon the dynamics of the shadow archetype that hides the inner person that exists inside us. The key to a optimum psychological state of health requires that we get understand the hidden depths of our souls and psyches. Here is a remarkable story about coming to terms with one’s shadow, compliments of  NY Times and the Failedmessiah–two excellent websites.

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From Skinhead to Orthodox Jew

Pawel in the Warsaw synagogue. A former truck driver and neo-Nazi skinhead, Pawel, 33, has since become an Orthodox Jew, covering his shaved head with a yarmulke and shedding his fascist ideology for the Torah.

By DAN BILEFSKY

Published: February 24, 2010

A few days ago, I had a friendly discussion with Rabbi Yisrael Goldberg, a young Chabadnik who lives in New Jersey. In the course of our talk, he mentioned that in California, the late Rabbi Avraymo Levitanski (a former teacher of mine) referred to Santa Monica as “Simcha Monica,” and San Diego or San Francisco as S. Diego and S. Fransisco. “Simcha Monica” was a new designation I hadn’t heard before; the name actually made me chuckle.

By the way, “Simcha Monica” roughly means, “Monica is happy.” I am not sure whether this name was given during the time of the Clinton and Monica Lewinski scandal, I suspect not. Actually, the real reason Monica is happy has nothing to do with Bill Clinton.  Historically, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the ORIGINAL  Monica  (331 – 387 CE ), Monica was both the Algerian Christian saint and  mother of Augustine of Hippo, the greatest Christian theologian of Late Antiquity. Augustine, ex-lover and whore-monger, loved extolling his mother’s virtues in his Confessions.

If my sense of humor seems off-colored, it’s because God speaks to me in the language of humor and irony.  Let us return to our topic at hand. At first blush, it seemed there might be some scriptural support for this unusual practice among the Chabad rabbis. Consider two verses: “Give heed to all that I have told you. Never mention the name of any other god; it shall not be heard from your lips” (Exod. 23:13) and “There must be no foreign god among you; you must not worship an alien god” (Psa. 81:10).

So I started thinking, it seems that the Chabad rabbis are rather inconsistent because the names found in the Gregorian calendar are actually based on the names of pagan deities of antiquity. If  no other gods or goddesses are to be  mentioned, how can Chabad rabbis refer to the name of actual deities whenever they use a secular calendar or at least refer to it in their daily conversation?

Here are some examples:

May derives from the Roman fertility goddess named Maia.

April is traditionally identified with Venus. April  may possibly derive from Aprilis, the Etruscan Apru, which is also a diminutive of Aphrodite–the Greek goddess of beauty and fertility. The Latin verb aperire, “to open,”  and is related to the Greek name for spring  ἁνοιξις (opening),  the time of the year when spring begins bloom with flowers and trees.

June alludes to Juno, the Roman goddess who served as protector and special counselor of the state.

Indeed, several other examples can be mentioned, but I believe we have made our point perfectly clear. If the Chabad rabbis used Hebrew names for the months, that would make a lot more sense. Then again, even the Hebrew calendar refers to the Sumerian and Babylonian deity known as Tammuz, who is mentioned in biblical times (cf. Eze. 8:14).

Who exactly was Tammuz? He was the chief Sumerian deity, also known as Dumazi–the god of fertility, of vegetation and agriculture, of death and resurrection, and the patron of shepherds. Dumzai was both the son and consort of Ashtar (Inanna). In the Sumerian mythic pantheon, Tammuz represented the annual vegetation cycle of death during the heat of summer and the rebirth of life with the coming of the fall and spring rains, as mythically recounted in the Akkadian poem, “Inanna’s Descent into the Netherworld.”

When our ancestors went to Babylon, they adopted the Babylonian names of the months during the 70 year exile in Babylon, which also  included Tammuz!  The 17th of Tammuz is a special fast day in Jewish tradition. I suspect that the ancient Jews either viewed Tammuz nuch like we now view the days of the week.  If it didn’t historically bother our people in times of antiquity, then why should it bother us whether S. Monica is Santa Monica?

Continue Reading

While there are several versions of the Fall narrative in ancient Semitic literature, it is not widely known that a mythic memory of a primordial Fall is also recorded in the Oriental world and this phenomenon is especially interesting when examined from the perspective of Jung’s theory of the archetype; i.e., the common and universal patterns of thought that spontaneously appear in the stories and myths gathered from all around the world.

Although the Buddhist tradition does not speak of a Fall in the Western theological sense, it does speak of a state of Original Ignorance that occurred at the dawn of human creation. From ignorance came greed, anger, jealousy, and pride; and from these emotional energies come misdeeds that lead to suffering. The first sin among the ancients that perpetuated the Fall was the prejudice of appearance—those of brighter skin began to look down on those with darker skin. Ignorance led to the formation of gender, which eventually gave rise to desire and passion. Continue Reading