Biblical translations by and large also reinforce this popular misunderstanding. Oftentimes the biblical  translation renders טֻמְאָה as “filth” or “contamination.” As proof for this notion, examples are frequently cited from the list of “unclean” animals which were considered too “detestable” and revolting to eat.  In contrast, people often think animals that are considered tahor are because they are perceived as being clean and bereft of filthy habits.

If impurity were just a purely “physical” phenomena, then a ritual bathing would certainly suffice for reentry into the temple or shrine. However, in order for a person to be ritually purified, there are many ritual steps that must be undertaken. To mention a few, one may also have to bring an offering in addition, wait for the sun to set, and lastly, undergo ritual immersion.

To really appreciate what purity and impurity is, we must examine these terms according to the symbology of ancient Israel. To begin with, both of these terms are relative only in relationship to faith community’s relationship to the Sacred.

Anthropological studies show that cultic boundaries serve to keep the integrity of sacred space intact;  it also serves to protect the secular realm from invading its space. To gain entry into a sacred space, the worshiper must first be in a “pure” state; being “impure” does not allow entry into the sacred at all.  Commoner and High Priest alike cannot enter or participate at the sacred precinct without undergoing the necessary cultic purification. To willfully do so, was believed by the ancients to imperil one’s soul. By the same token, to partake of holy foods, one must be in a state of ritual purity (Lev. 7:20-21; Deut. 26:14).

From a structural and mythic perspective, all the substances mentioned in the Torah which induce ritual impurity are all–in one way or another–associated with the reality of death. Whether it be a human corpse, or the carcass of a permitted or an unclean animal, touching these items, or being even within an enclosure with a man who has just died, renders all the persons who were in it or might enter it, and all the open vessels that were there (Num. 19:11, 14-16).

Not only does this pertain to the loss of actual life, it applies even to the unfulfilled potential for life. The Torah has said on many occasions that blood is the carrier of the life principle commonly referred to as the soul. Saadia Gaon was probably the first medieval Jewish thinker to observe that once any organ or for that matter, any part of the body which becomes  detached from life, has  the power to convey ritual impurity.^[1]

Saadia’s theory would also explain at least in general comprehensive terms^[2] why all body fluids, e.g, menstrual blood, semen and other discharges  (Lev. 15) all symbolized the flow of life, and on some level, represented, a kind of death^[3] or at the very least, reminded a person of the bodily decomposition which occurs after the time of death, when the bodily secretions run amok inside and outside the body. The rabbis went so far as to say that two-thirds of a pint of blood (a.k.a. a “log”) ritually defiles as well.^[4]

The same idea would also explain, why leprosy (or more precisely,) “fungal” or “scaling disease” fall into this category (cf. Num. 12:12). Images of a decomposed hand, or the withering the human skin, would certainly make the infected person feel as if s/he was a character from the “Night of the Living Dead.”

While death is certainty for all flesh, Judaism, Christianity, Islam, and the Oriental faiths view the heavenly realm as the true  home of the soul.  For these reasons and more, the concept of ceremonial purity is always bound up with that which is holy and eternal.

On the deepest ontological level, the laws governing purity and impurity remind us of our duo nature, both as finite creatures who occupy the continum of time and space, and as beings who are endowed with an eternal identity which is rooted in God. On the one hand, physically, man is an epiphenomenon in this world, as the Psalmist said, “As for man, his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field . . .” (Psa. 103:15).

Despite his earthbound destination, man is paradoxically, the bio-centric object of God’s ceaseless love, Who set apart and designed him in the Divine image. The Creator of the universe endowed human beings with a unique and  trans-personal identity that links the soul to the world of eternity. For these reasons and more, whenever a person attempts to bring purity and holiness to one’s  earthly existence, man breaks free from the shackles of the physical and temporal world  and with God’s help and grace, he will hopefully evolve into something much more.

^[1] Saadia Gaon, Emunah V’Deot 6:4.

^[2] While Saadia’s insight is significant it is not all encompassing in its details. Nowhere does the Torah or the Mishnaic texts suggest that fingernails, dead skin, or hair that is cut conveys ritual impurity unless it comes from a corpse (cf. Temurah 7:4).

^[3] Out of this  attitude, emerged the theological notion of ethical purity a popular prophetic theme – which aims to cultivate and bring the worshiper to a refined  inner state of mind, conscience and behavior which is consistent with ritual purity. Among modern anthropologists, Levi-Bruhl has long held that among primal peoples, the rituals of purification are affected by the emotional makeup of the worshiper. Feelings of anxiety can effect the ultimate outcome of a rite and refers to this notion as the “bewitching effects of ill-will” (Primitives and the Supernatural, [trans. Clare] London, 1936, 186).

^[4] Cf. T.B. Bava Kama 101b; T.B. Sanhedrin 4b.

A Talmudic Discussion

There is a controversy in the Talmud  regarding this very issue between Daru bar Papa who cites in the name of Rav and Rabbi Yochanan. Here is the substance of the argument. Daru b. Papa held that only someone who is obligated to observe the precept of circumcision can act as mohel (the one who performs the circumcision) for others, whereas R. Yochanan felt that a woman can act as a mohelet as indicated in the story of Tziporah (see Exodus 4:24‑26 for details). [1]

In practical terms, R. Yosef Caro, the Halacha follows R. Yochanan and a woman may act as mohelet [2] but Maimonides adds one stipulation: this only applies in the event that a male Mohel is not available. [3] However, Rema cites authorities who differ on this matter.

From a psychological perspective, the reluctance utilize a female mohelet may have something to do with Freud’s theory of the castration complex. Freud theorized that castration anxiety is based on a deep‑seated fear or anxiety in boys and men said to originate during the genital stage of sexual development; Freud asserts that a boy, when seeing a girl’s genitalia, falsely presumes that the girl had her penis removed probably as punishment for some misbehavior. The young boy then becomes anxious lest the same happen to him.[4]

It is worth noting that in some cultures, notably 19th century Europe, it was not unheard of for parents to threaten their children with castration, or to otherwise threaten their genitals, a phenomenon Freud documents several times.

Freud’s Castration Complex in Patriarchal Religious Societies

Freud’s controversial theory also may help explain why some Halachic authorities are reluctant to go along with a female mohelet. Freud’s controversial theory may even help explain why male dominated societies like the Muslim and Haredi fundamentalists fear women’s liberation.

The fear that the patriarchal conceptions of masculinity being broken, may explain in part why there exists such an animus directed toward women in these closed societies. The fear may well be primordial in nature. Basically, male dominated cultures are fearful of appearing “impotent,” and will do almost anything to promote the image of strength and virility–the trademark of mullahs and Haredi Gedolim (”Giants” ) alike.

A Memorable Story About a Female Mohelet

One of the most moving stories involving a female mohelet occurs in a concentration camp. In Yaffa Eliach’s “Hasidic Tales of the Holocaust,”  she narrates an incident at the Janowska concentration camp where, Jewish children were brought (apparently by their parents) from the surrounding areas to be killed.

In her book, one of the great heroes, whose stories she records was that of Rabbi Israel Spira. Years later, he tells the story of what unfolded. “I heard the voice of a woman. “Jews have mercy upon me and give me a knife”. In front of us was standing a woman, pale as a sheet. Only her eyes were burning with a strange fire. I thought that she wanted to commit suicide. … “Give me that pocket knife !” she ordered the German [guard standing by] in a commanding voice. The German, taken by surprise, handed the knife to the woman. … With a steady hand she opened the pocket knife and curcumcised the baby. … “God of the Universe, you have given me a healthy child. I am returning to you a kosher child.” She walked over to the German, gave him back his blood-stained knife, and handed him her baby on his snow-white pillow. Amidst a veil of tears, I said to myself that this mother’s circumcision will probably shake the foundations of heaven and earth.” [5]

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Notes:

[1] BT Avodah Zarah 27a

[2] Yoreh Deah 264:1.

[3] Maimonides, MT, Hilchot Milah 2:1.

[4] See Freud’s essay “Little Hans” (published in 1909), and “On the Sexual Theories of Children” (1908).

[5] Yaffa Eliach, Hasidic Tales of the Holocaust (Visalia, CA: First Vintage Books, 1988), 151.

Continuing with our last thought, how could Deborah in the Bible (Judg. 4:4) serve as a judge, according to the Talmudic and medieval rabbis?  The 13th century of scholars known as the Tosfot, try to make sense of the problem posed. To their credit, Tosfot offers at least adds fluidity to much of its interpretation; they are a lot like the girl with the curl, when they are good . .  . you know the rest of the story. The same may be said of the Tosfot interpretations.

Ba’ale Tosfot discuss the problem from a variety of perspectives:

A. One answer proposed suggests that that Deborah was a judge because her community accepted her. Tosfot also admits that a woman is considered to be an equal in every matter of jurisprudence, except when it comes to serving as a witness. [1]

B. The Jerusalem Talmud rules that a woman is not allowed to act as a judge [2]; the case of Deborah is the exception–and certainly not the norm. Deborah was chosen by virtue of the Shekhinah resting upon her.[3]

C. Alternatively, one may accept a woman to serve as a judge, just like two litigants may accept a relative to serve as a judge–provided each party agrees. [4]

D. Some scholars say that Deborah could only “teach,” but she could not render legal decisions–only men could do that.[5]

================

In the interest of brevity and clarity: Explanation A strongly supports the idea that a woman may be accepted as a spiritual leader by the community.  By the same token there is certainly no violation of “modesty laws,” just like the modesty issue never played a role in the narrative of Deborah. She unabashedly taught Torah and functioned like a judge in every respect.

With respect to the third answer, we discover a view that is similar in  substance to the first opinion, but it is somewhat similar to the second view as well. While a woman may not technically be “kosher” as a judge, if she is competent and the people wish to accept her–despite the limitations of gender, a community has every right to accept her–provided she has a strong mandate from the community empowering her to lead.

This is the liberal approach of Rabbi Avi Weiss, which I wholeheartedly support.

Understanding the Conservative View of the Haredim and RCA

It is not hard to see where Rabbis Shafran and Pruzhansky derive their point of view–it is primarily from the Jerusalem Talmud, as well as those scholars who have subsequently followed in its footsteps. They would argue that Deborah is the only woman to function as a judge in the Bible. Centuries of Jewish tradition, since early rabbinic times, certainly (but unfortunately) supports that kind of narrow interpretation. Besides, who says the Jerusalem Talmud is necessarily correct? The last time I checked, nobody in the Talmud ever said that the Sages were infallible.

What About Option D?

Option D does not have even the flimsiest bit of support from the Tanakh; one would have to redefine the verb שֹׁפְטָה  (šöpta) in a way that radically different from any other usage found in the Tanakh. Ordinarily, a  šofate (judge) decides cases that come before his attention (Exod. 21:31; Deut. 25:1; Josh. 20:6). Thus young King Solomon, e.g., asked God for understanding that he might “hear mishpat”- and a case is shortly brought before him to decide (1Kgs 3:11). The language of the text indicates that Deborah acted no differently than any other male judge before or after her. For this reason, we must reject Tosfot’s reasoning. If anything, Tosfot’s argument here proves the exact opposite.

One More Point . . .

The Mishnah clearly states in  “Whoever is eligible to act as a judge is also eligible to act as a witness; however, one may be eligible to act as a witness, but not be eligible to serve as a judge.”  A woman really does not fall into the Mishnaic category, which only speaks about someone who can be both a witness and a judge. A woman may serve as a judge, but she cannot serve as a witness. Her exclusion from being a witness does not necessarily exclude her from serving as a judge at all–the Mishnah did not specifically address this kind of case scenario. One suspects the reason why the Mishnah never excluded a woman as a judge is precisely because Deborah functioned as a judge.

For the Mishnaic framers, this was really a no-brainer.

A Possible Compromise for Rabbi Avi Weiss

As a compromise, I think Rabbi Avi Weiss ought to consider ordaining Rabba Hurwitz to serve an exclusively female congregation for the time being. This way, there will be no issue of “modesty,” since it is an exclusive female congregation. Secondly, since the women will have accepted her as a rabbinit (female rabbi), there will be no violation of Jewish law as specified by the sources of A and C, but not B (but possibly D, in a limited sense).

The absence of unanimity should not be a cause for alarm to the Modern Orthodox community, since Halacha has seldom ever been unanimous in its thinking and redefinition. Indeed, there are numerous other rabbinic passages we can look at, but I believe we have demonstrated that Halacha is by no means a monolithic process; social issues do impact a religious and halachic community, as we have mentioned above in the case of woman’s suffrage. I suspect that had Rabbis Shafran and Pruzanski lived during the first part of the 20th century, these men would have opposed women’s suffrage for the same reasons they oppose female rabbis.

I dare any Haredi or RCA rabbi to explain: Why can women vote, serve as supervisors in Kashrut, answer Halachic questions with respect to the Jewish family purity laws, serve as attorneys in the most Haredi rabbinical courts in Israel, but not serve as women rabbis?

Inquiring minds really want to know.

===============

Notes:

[1] BT Nidah 50a, Tosfot, s.v., כל הכשר לדון כשר להעיד, cf. BT Bava Kama 15a.

[2] ירושלמי סנהדרין פ”ג ה”ט; טוש”ע חו”מ ז ד

[3] תוס’ ב”ק טו א, ועי’ ירושלמי יומא פ”ו ה”א ותוס’ נדה נ א ומהרש”א ומהר”ם שם בפי’ הירושלמי, ועי’ תומים סי’ ז ס”ק ה.

[4].חי’ הר”ן שבועות ל א, וע”ע בית דין שכל הפסולים כשרים לדון כשבעלי הדינים קבלו עליהם

[5] כל הכשר לדון כשר להעיד– תוספות מסכת נדה דף נ עמוד א

Frankly, I am not surprised at all by the series of events that ensued. Surprisingly, Agudath Israel spokesman Rabbi Avi Shafran admitted that the issue whether women may become rabbis or not is not a matter of “Torah law,” or not; in his opinion, it is morally wrong. Shafran remarked, “[If] Weiss had the backing of a world-class posek (halachic decisor) he would have a claim that he’s not departing [from the mesorah], but he does not have any such backings on the recognized Orthodox spectrum, chareidi or central. He’s changing the face of mesorah without anyone of stature behind him.”

I am curious: Where does the Torah speak about rabbis in the first place, since “rabbis” did not exist in biblical times?

But wait, it gets more interesting than just that.

Rabbi Shafran further argues that the ordination of a woman ran counter to the concept of tzniut, (modesty). It includes the idea that women are demeaned, not honoured, when they are placed in the public eye,” said Rabbi Shafran, “and that a position like the one suggested here is violative of that concept.”

Rabbi Steven Pruzansky of Teaneck, NJ, expresses a similar position in his blog: “There are two greater objections: the utter disregard of norms of tzniut, with which ModOs generally struggle, and the corruption of the methodology of psak that transmits the Mesora and Jewish cultural norms and societal values. The only way to consider in this context the compelling Jewish value of “the glory of the King’s daughter is within” (kal kevuda bat melech penima- Tehillim 45:14) is essentially to discount it and say it has no relevance in the modern Western world. Thus, this ideal of Jewish femininity – the disinclination to seek a public spiritual role, cited by Chazal hundreds of times – is simply written out of the Torah system. And why ? …”

Both of these men’s argumentation are interesting. For now, let us raise the obvious question: Is the idea of a female “poseket” (Halachic decisor) truly without precedent in rabbinic law?

One of the famous questions asked in the Halachic literature concerns the famous biblical heroine, Deborah, whom the verse explicitly states: “ At this time the prophetess Deborah, wife of Lappidoth, was judging Israel” (Judg. 4:4). The verse clearly says that a woman can serve as a judge, despite the fact this position was normally reserved for men. Faced with the awkwardness of the biblical text, a number of different responses have been offered–which for the most part, prove to be mutually contradictory.

(To be continued)

—Proverbs 12:10

The author of Proverbs stresses an important ethical lesson: a humane person considers the needs of his animals and acts kindly towards them.^[1] The world of Creation is full of sentient beings, which also experience many of the joys and blessings that people commonly enjoy: like humankind, these creatures also experience pain. Suffering is a common language that links humanity with other species of animal life.

Therefore, Jewish ethics take sharp issue with French philosopher Rene Descartes (ca. 1596–1650), who compares animals to machines that service people, stating that their suffering “means nothing more than the creaking of a wheel.”[2] In physiological terms, according to Descartes, what human beings and animals share is that their bodies function by the laws of mechanics. One might respond: How then do human beings differ from animals? Descartes argues that the Creator endows human beings with a divine soul and a moral conscience—qualities that are lacking in animals.

In addition, unlike animals, human beings possess the ability to conceptualize and verbalize ideas. Most importantly, only human beings are capable of conscious and rational thought since they are uniquely endowed with the ability to be self-reflective. Only a human being is capable of exclaiming, “Cogito ergo sum.”

Philo of Alexandria explains that the Mosaic proscription prohibiting the boiling of a kid in its mother’s milk aims to teach Israel that mercy and self-restraint should govern people’s relations with animals no less than with each other.[3] According to biblical law, a person may not satisfy his or her appetite disregarding the feelings of animals, especially where mothers and their young are concerned. A worshipper in ancient times, for example, is barred from sacrificing a newborn animal until it is at least eight days old (Exod. 22:28–29; Lev 22:27).

He writes, “Nothing could be more brutal,” writes Philo, “than to add to the mother’s birth pangs the pain of being separated from her young immediately after giving birth, for it is at this time that her maternal instincts are strongest.” In other respects, too, the Law calls for self-restraint. Thus, it would be an act of unnatural excess, Philo argues, to cook a young animal in the very substance with which nature intended it to be sustained. In a similar vein, the Law prohibits one from sacrificing an animal together with its young (Lev 22:28), since this would again involve an unnatural combination of that which gives life and that which receives it.[4]

[1] R. Yehuda HaHasid of Regensburg notes: “The cruel person is he who gives his animal a great amount of straw to eat and on the morrow requires that it climb up high mountains. Should the animal, however, be unable to run quickly enough in accordance with its master’s desires, his master beats it mercilessly. Mercy and kindness have in this instance evolved into cruelty.” Quoted from Noah Cohen’s Tsa’ar Ba’ale Hayim — The Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (New York: Feldheim Publishers, 1959), 45–46.

[2] Discourse on the Method of Rightly Conducting the Reason, and Seeking the Truth in the Sciences, ch. 5, 92-93.

[3] Philo, Virtues 125-44.

[4] Philo’s explanation is later found in the commentaries of Ibn Ezra, Rashbam, Ramban, Bechor Shor, Abarbanel, Aharon Eliyahu and S. Luzzato. On the other hand, Bechor Shor supposes that it also refers to the cooking of the kid, before it has been weaned from its mother’s milk.

To the modern mindset, the mentality that believed in animal sacrifices must seem very strange. Even Maimonides viewed sacrifice as a form of retrogressive religion, tolerated in the Torah only because of the unsophisticated spiritual maturity of the Israelites.

Ironically enough, in Israel, today many students are studying Maimonides’ Laws of Sacrifice on the hope and expectation that Jews will at some point rebuild the Temple and offer the animal sacrifices just like their ancestors did in ancient times. Right . . .

I can just imagine Maimonides turning over in his grave. Maimonides would have undoubtedly have been surprised to see that we have evolved so little over the past 800+ years.

If you think the money changers made a killing when Jesus created a ruckus that chased them out (obviously, many other pilgrims must have felt the same way), just imagine what today’s Haredi rabbis would do today if he had a new Temple, replete with animal sacrifices.

No thanks, but no thanks.

An anthropological approach demands that we view a society’s customs through the eyes of those individuals who practiced animal sacrifice. There is a symbolism and significance that moderns can learn and may even apply in their own spiritual formation and development.

An analogy from human behavior might serve to answer this question. The giving of a gift, even between human beings, is not a purely external transaction but at the same time establishes a personal relation between giver and recipient. This would explain why bribery is morally offensive; by accepting a bribe  the judge becomes, at the very least, psychologically beholden to the litigant  (cf. Gen.32:14-19).

Many scholars in the field of anthropology note that archaic man often offered sacrifices as a bribe to the gods for personal enrichment; or to placate the gods from harming the worshiper. Think of it as a form of divine “protection money.” Personally, I think that in the story of Noah, Noah offers the olah shortly after the ark rests upon dry land. He brings the olah as bribe because he is uncertain whether God might change His mind and will eventually bring a new flood on Noah’s descendants.

Perhaps the most forceful antecedent to the Israelite practice of the burnt sacrifice is from Isaac’s near sacrifice of Isaac at Mt. Moriah (Gen. 22ff). Illustrating this eternal truth, God beckons Abraham to offer Isaac “as an olah.” More than any other incident in Abraham and Isaac’s life, the Akedah taught both of them how to be wholly given over to the Divine.

Over the centuries, as the worshippers brought their olah offerings to the Temple, the olah rekindled ancestral memories of how Isaac was prepared to give his very life to God. As the body of the animal dissolved into vapor and ascended heavenward, the worshiper inferred that he too must be prepared to subordinate every aspect of his body, mind and soul, not to mention whatever belongs to him, are subject to the authority of God. Indeed, the martyrdom of countless Jews over the last 2000 years bears this truism out.

It was only natural, that the olah offering came be seen as a means of honoring the Divine. Philo of Alexandria regards the burnt offering as rendering honor to God apart from any other motive or self-interest. Philo explains, “Therefore the law has assigned the whole burnt offering as a sacrifice adequate to that honor which is suited to God, and which belongs to God alone, enjoining that what is offered to the all perfect and absolute God must be itself entire and perfect, having no taint of mortal selfishness in it.”^[1]

^[1] Special Laws I, XXX VI, 196.

Sabbath rituals exemplify Judaism’s quest to sanctify time. To the pagan, the notion of holiness is inextricably related to sacred space; as a result, there is a tendency for the primal psyche to project its concept of the divine into an object that is found in the phenomenal world. But the Sabbath is radically different. With the Sabbath, as Heschel notes, human beings leave the realm of holy space and enter into the realm of holy time.[2]

Judaism teaches us to be attached to holiness in time, to be attached to sacred events, to learn how to consecrate sanctuaries that emerge from the magnificent stream of a year. The Sabbaths are our great cathedrals; and our Holy of Holies is a shrine that neither the Romans nor the Germans were able to burn; a shrine that even apostasy cannot easily obliterate.[3]

The Sabbath also exerts a profound economic impact upon a society. As a symbol of sanctified time, the Sabbath releases men and women from the tyranny of a consumer-driven market economy. Keeping the Sabbath must be more than just a mere activity—it must foster a renewal of the soul. The Sabbath symbolizes the ideal state of creation where every creature great and small, stands in cosmic unity together in honor of the Creator. As a symbol of rest and renewal, the Sabbath signifies an inner serenity that permeates the spirit.

The Sabbath also provides the context for appreciating the Eternal within the boundaries of sacred time. As a “cathedral of sacred time,” the Sabbath stands apart from other precepts of the Torah that have more of a spatial dimension to its holiness.

This may be illustrated with the following Hassidic anecdote: Two rebbes—the Vorker Rebbe and the Kotzker Rebbe—were discussing the relative importance of certain biblical mitzvoth (precepts). The Vorker Rebbe commented upon the holiness of the “four species”[4] that are held together and waved in honor of God. Once the precept has been performed, they are laid aside, for the precept has been properly carried out.

The Vorker Rebbe continued, “Such is the way with most mitzvot-as long as we hold them dear, we experience the holy; however, once we let go of the precept, the holiness departs. However during the holiday of Sukkot [Tabernacles], the holiness of the sukkah pervades every part of the person who is inside and the sukkah’s holiness is even more pervasive.” The Kotzker Rebbe replied, “There is one mitzvah whose holiness was even greater than that of the sukkah—the Sabbath, for once a Jew walks out of the sukkah, he is no longer surrounded by the aura of the sukkah’s holiness, but that is not the case with the Sabbath, for no matter where a Jew goes during the Sabbath the quality of the Sabbath always remains with him.” The holiness of time is something that remains, even in the absence of the holy Temple. Some Hasidic thinkers also see in the Sabbath a rich eschatological dimension, a quality that will not be fully realized until the Messianic Era, when every day will have the holy quality of the Sabbath.[5]

[1] Abraham Joshua Heschel, The Sabbath: Its Meaning for Modern Man (New York: Farrar Straus and Young, 1951), xvi. It is ironic that Heschel utilized a spatial metaphor to describe the sacredness of time.

[2] The Zoroastrians also conceived of history as moving toward a telos; after the final rehabilitation of the earth implies its purification and its joining, with a purified hell, to the extension of heaven.

[3] The Sabbath, op. cit., xvi.

[4] The “Four Species” (Hebrew: ארבעת המינים  = Arba’at Ha-Minim) refer to the: lulav (לולב) – a ripe, green, closed frond from a date palm tree,  hadass (הדס) – boughs with leaves from the myrtle tree, aravah (ערבה) – branches with leaves from the willow tree, and the  Etrog (אתרוג) – the fruit of a citron tree. During the holiday of Sukkoth, these four species are waved together by the worshiper in a special ceremony of thanksgiving to God. For a biblical description of the rite, see Leviticus 23:40.

[5] Rabbi Shlomo Riskin, The Passover Haggadah (New York: Ktav, 1983), 22-23.

To most people, a victim of terrorism is just a statistic–unless you happen to personally know who the victim was. George was an  Israeli who lived among Palestinians, in a Palestinian neighborhood of Jerusalem. While he was a high school student, he participated in interfaith projects with fellow Christians, Muslims and Jews. His death was so tragic because it was so unnecessary.

George’s father, Elias, is a respectable attorney in Jerusalem, has fought for Palestinians clients that had their lands confiscated by the Israeli government. Elias Khoury believes violence is a poison that is harming the Palestinian people. In memory of his beloved son, he made an unusual decision that has stirred controversy among his fellow Palestinians and Arabs–both within Israel–and well beyond Israel’s borders.

Elias decided to pay for an Arabic translation of Israeli writer Amos Oz’s autobiography, “A Tale of Love and Darkness.”Amos Oz is beloved as a moderate and a dove, and Elias wanted the Palestinian community to learn about a different kind of Israeli, whose vision might help co-create  a new and more tolerant peaceful co-existence for Israel and the Palestinian people. Perhaps this new literary project would also give redemptive meaning to his son’s tragic death so that other young people might be spared from the endless cycle of violence.

The Arabic version of the book, “A Tale of Love and Darkness,” went on sale late last month in Beirut, Lebanon. So far it has received pretty favorable reviews–especially by Abdo Wazen, cultural editor of the pan-Arab newspaper Al Hayat. As to be expected, some have reacted critically toward the book’s publication as well. The book is due to be distributed more widely in the region in the coming weeks. The book will soon be released in Egypt and Jordan.

Perhaps the pen is mightier than the sword.

You can be sure this literary work will send shock-waves throughout the Muslim world–from Algeria to Tehran.

Elias writes in his preface to the Arabic translation, “This book tells the history of the rebirth of the Jewish people,” he said as he sat in his law office. “We can learn from it how a people like the Jewish people emerged from the tragedy of the Holocaust and were able to reorganize themselves and build their country and become an independent people. If we can’t learn from that, we will not be able to do anything for our independence.” [1]

In light of his own family’s bitter history that resulted in ancestral lands being confiscated by the Israeli government for security reasons in 1948, Elias wants the Muslim world to understand what Jewish refugee life was like in the 1930s and ’40s, a time when Palestine was like one gigantic Jewish refugee camp for Jews seeking to find refuge from the death camps of Europe. Yes, Jews and Palestinian Arabs have much in common to remember–two peoples suffused with bitterness and tragedy.

One of the most important Palestinian moderates, Harvard-trained philosopher Sari Nusseibeh wrote about the hard times characterizing the historical changes of the Middle East,while charting his own political evolution and eventual and resolute insistence on a two-state solution to the Israel-Palestine conflict.

After reading Oz’s book, he could not help but be moved by the parallel existences of Jews and Palestinian Arabs of the time. Nusseibeh observes, “Weren’t both sides of the conflict totally immersed in their own tragedies, each one oblivious to, or even antagonistic toward, the narrative of the other?” he wrote. “Isn’t this inability to imagine the lives of the ‘other’ at the heart of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict? . . . .Elias wants to build emotional bridges between our nations, and to do that you need to let each read the narrative of the other. Reading literature is like taking you into the bedroom of the other.” [2]

When one considers how easy it is to demonize the Other, it is refreshing to hear a new voice that hopefully, will strike a cord of hope in Jewish and Palestinian hearts. Suffering is an universal language that transcends dialects, religions, and ethnicities. Healing comes with understanding the pain of the Other. While I believe we are still a long way–perhaps even generations–from solving the Middle East problems, I admire Elias Khoury and Sari Nusseibeh’s willingness to change the emotional landscape of the Middle East, by providing a bridge where both peoples can meet and engage one another.

A year ago, at our synagogue center in the Quad-Cities, I was in charge of creating a special Israel Celebration Day in honor of  Israel’s 61st birthday. For one of my programs, I had a video presentation showing how Israeli and Palestinians were creating musical and cultural programs together. One outstanding group, named Buston Avaraham [3]  shows how something like music can transcend generations of animosity as Jewish and Palestinians attempt to make a statement that CNN and Fox News will never show because the Western media is invested in maintaining a cold war of hatred between the Palestinians and the Israelis.

In addition, we also showed some videos of the Israeli-Palestinian Comedy Tour [4] depicting how humor is not only universal, it is also healing as both communities engage in some self-deprecating and comedic introspectivity that is never heard or seen on television. For the last video program, we viewed the history of Hadassah Hospital to see an organization that is committed to literally healing the wounds of war and intolerance. Many Palestinians and Israelis owe their lives to an organization that often provides organ transplants from each other’s community, in an effort to make an important statement about the nature and hope for peace.

Lastly, more efforts need to be made to promote better Jewish and Islamic dialogue. In my own community, we have had considerable success in attempting to bridge some of the issues that have long divided us. We have found that true interfaith dialogue begins with a spirit of tolerance and respect. Seeing through the eyes of our neighbor does not mean we must accept the other’s view or belief system as our own—but it will give us insight into where our fellow co-religionist is coming from. It is essential that both communities make the effort to accept the differences within a “both-and” mindset, rather than a “right-wrong” kind of attitude.

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Notes:

[1] Ethan Bronner, Palestinian Sees Lesson Translating an Israeli’s Work (http://mobile.nytimes.com/2010/03/07/world/middleeast/07khoury.xml)

[2] Ibid.

[3] http://www.last.fm/listen/artist/Bustan%2BAbraham/similarartists

[4] http://www.ipcomedytour.com

Strangely, Rosenblum neglects to mention the most important aspect about the  Haredi war against the Internet–they fear its self critiquing and self-examination much more than the erotic websites.  Banning the Internet promotes the conspiracy of silence it desires.  Ynet news uncovered a document where the rabbis denounce the websites – the majority of which are daily news publications unsanctioned by the ultra-Orthodox establishment – on grounds that they “pursue all manners of news and gossip that defame our public” and “spread slander, lies and impurities to thousands.”

Haredi rabbis want to create a hermetic seal that will prevent their people from critically examining its community’s leaders, many of whom have been exploiting their flock in almost every conceivable way for decades.

In the same Ynet issue, Jerusalem “modesty squads” says computers containing “abominations” found in apartments rented by yeshiva students, calls on capital’s residents to “stand guard” and have forbidden the ownership of computers in the yeshivas.

The real animus against the Internet is not so much toward the erotic sites, it is toward the news services that openly criticize Haredi power and undermine their authority. Micromanaging or lobotomizing its Haredi community cannot solve the problem here.

What the rabbis are really trying to prevent is the emergence of self-reflective Haredim who are willing to take a hard and serious look at the level of dysfunction within its community. There was a time when child-molesters in the Haredi community could hide and get away with a cloak of unanimity. The Internet has made it virtually impossible for pedophiles to hide. Nor will the Internet hide the financial shenanigans we see among many of the most prestigious leaders of the Haredi community–they too, are now accountable.

Orwellian Judaism?

The constant attempt of the Haredi Gedolim in Jerusalem to keep a watchful eye on virtually every aspect of their followers’ lives strikes me as being very Orwellian. In George Orwell’s famous novel, Nineteen Eighty-Four, there is an organization called “The Ministry of Truth,” which monitors its society’s news, entertainment, the fine arts and educational books. Every aspect of societal life is completely subordinated to this ministry’s supervision.

In Orwell’s dystopian novel, the author writes that the deeper reason of this agency is to maintain the illusion that the Party is absolute. The image of the Party must remain pristine, eternally right and strong at all times. What is especially chilling about Orwell’s 1984, is that every person is kept under constant and complete surveillance  by the authorities, mainly by telescreens. Wherever a citizen goes, there is always a reminder that “Big Brother is watching you”, which functions as the sole repository of truth.

One of the book’s popular slogans, “War is Peace,” “Freedom is Slavery,” and “Ignorance is Strength” succinctly describes  the Haredi motivation in their latest “war” against modernity.  Let us briefly examine the aphorism:

War is Peace: The Haredi see the modern world as a threatening place that could undermine its values, leadership, and power. Whenever there is a war, its people becomes mobilized  as each of its citizens prepares to battle the “enemy,” which happens to be the forces of non-Orthodoxy and secularism. Its leaders, i.e., the Haredi Gedolim (“rabbinic giants”) are the great and heroic protectors of the people’s spiritual purity! Rabbinic government demands from  their followers’ a  total allegiance and trust. Beyond that, they are prepared to act as the  “Thought police,” who will exact punishment upon anyone guilty of a “thought-crime.”

Freedom is Slavery: The frum world has two interesting expressions that are opposites: frum (religious) and frei (pronounced “fry”) meaning someone who is “not religious” and “free” from the yoke of the mitzvot (commandments), i.e., someone who feels “free” to do whatever s/he feels like doing. Of course, “going frei” is  considered to be a very bad thing.

The life of Halacha is preferable to a life of unbounded freedom, where the boundaries are fuzzy, and the individual must choose for himself. Haredi psychology believes that the masses are too stupid and foolish to decide anything for themselves–they require the Gedolim to assist them. Sociologist Peter Berg, in his book, “The Heretical Imperative” shows that the word for “heresy” derives from the Greek verb hairesis, “taking action,” “to make a choice.” The Haredi world is determined to see that individual choice is snuffed out as a possibility of being. Hence, freedom is inherently threatening and undesirable.

Ignorance is Strength: It is better to keep its Haredi members in a perpetual state of ignorance. People are unaware of a happier spiritual lifestyle; their leaders are more secure knowing that their followers remain intellectually cut off from the world. In Marxian terms, the ignorance of the Haredi masses gives strength to its religious government. Religion more often than not, becomes “the opiate of the masses,” thus deadening their ability to feel anything that is painful. Marx correctly (I believe) sums up the problem in clear terms:

Religious distress is at the same time the expression of real distress and the protest against real distress. Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, just as it is the spirit of a spiritless situation. It is the opium of the people. The abolition of religion as the illusory happiness of the people is required for their real happiness. The demand to give up the illusion about its condition is the demand to give up a condition which needs illusions.

Karl Marx, Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right

Beginnings of a Populist Revolt?

On a positive note, Ha’Aretz news reveals that between 2004 and 2007, when the Haredi rabbis tried to ban “unkosher” cellphones because of its Internet access, the Haredi rank and file opted to disregard their rabbi’s edicts. “According to data collected from the 340,000 people representing the potential cellphone market in the Haredi community, only 96,000 bought kosher cellphones. Around 225,000 people were non-kosher, and many cellphone users owned two devices – one for show and the other to actually talk with. The study focuses on communications, but it is of immense importance from the financial standpoint,” Roshi said. ‘Despite the impression the Haredi public does not necessarily obey the will of its leaders blindly and is likely to acquire items of which the rabbis don’t approve.’”

Could this mean that the Haredi rank and file are starting to get fed up with this kind of intrusion in their lives? I suspect so. It is not an issue of “freedom of religion,” that is at the epicenter here, it is the desire to have “freedom from religion” that is at stake here.