Book Review — Very Near to You: Human Readings of the Torah

Avraham Burg is an interesting personality. He challenges the religious and sensibilities of the Orthodox and Jewish world. Burg is also a leader in the Israeli peace movement. He served two terms in the Israeli Knesset. Over the years, he has emerged as one of Israel’s most articulate advocates for religious pluralism, women’s rights, ecological issues—not to mention—Israeli and Palestinian peace. At times, Avraham Burg almost sounds like a modern day biblical prophet.

His newest book, “Very Near To You: Human Readings of the Torah,” (Jerusalem: Gefen, 2012) captures many of his seminal ideas on the weekly Torah portion. Burg calls it the way he sees it. His philosophical insights expose a part of the text that towers above his competition. Whereas many of today’s rabbinical scholars extol the virtues of midrashic expositions, Burg challenges the reader to question everything—including the sacred text itself. He does not slavishly accept traditional sources simply because they are canonized as “traditional.”

You will not find Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik or Nechama Leibowitz engage in the type of postmodern deconstructions of the biblical text that Burg does in “Very Near To You.” Burg’s honesty is refreshing. He is not afraid to say that certain biblical stories strike today’s readers as morally problematic for a contemporary sensibility.

So, in the interest of brevity, let us examine one well-known biblical story Burg examines that characterizes his original thought: The story of Noah. Burg admits in the beginning, that he really didn’t care that much for Noah. Rabbinical wisdom teaches that Noah pales in comparison to other biblical personalities who, “spoke to God, fought with him, complemented Him…compared to them, Noah would not have been ‘considered at all’” (p. 12). However, Burg comes up with a wonderful novelty, “Noah is neither a lawgiver or a prophetical voice. Noah belongs among people who build and do. Noah is a pioneer, not an intellectual a manual worker rather than a noted philosopher…”

Ditto. Noah’s greatness is precisely because of his humanity. The Torah describes Noah as a “righteous man,” which happens to be an awful translation. The Hebrew term ish tsadik really means, “a man of integrity,”  or simply, “a just man.” Since the time of Webster’s  Dictionary,  the term “righteous” implies piety, but it really connotes someone who acts with total and complete integrity. Hassidic and Haredi tend to focus on Noah’s religious piety, and overlook the significance of Noah as a “a man of integrity.” As Jewish ethical literature teaches, the acquisition of personal integrity must come before one attains piety.[1] When you consider the violent and unjust times Noah lived in, his moral achievement was no small accomplishment. To use a modern example of Noahide integrity, imagine a Palestinian standing up for Israel in the streets of Gaza–that’s the kind of moral fortitude Noah possesses. He may not be a prophet, but his dignity and personal integrity stand out in a crowd.

Noah’s realism and love for the earth enables him to save it from destruction. “Without Noah,” contends Burg, “there can be no Abraham.” Burg cites the well-known Mishnah, ‘If there is no flour, there can be no Torah—that is, learning and culture cannot survive without the bare essentials of life. By this measure, Noah was the flour; only in his wake could Abraham come with his Torah, his message of revealed truth” (p. 14).

The best part of Burg’s exposition of Noah is how he compares the Flood narrative to the Holocaust. Personally, I have always found this part of the narrative most disturbing. Let’s be honest: Noah probably thought God was a mass-murderer! How can anyone relate to a Deity, Who is deeply out of control with His emotions? Burg is certainly aware of the moral problems posed by the ancient biblical text. As to be expected,  Burg totally rejects any effort to view the Flood story as historical truth. For him, it is all about metaphor that depicts God’s relationship with Creation. Burg makes a stunning observation and claims that God behaves “childishly” by creating man to be an automaton, who obediently responds to God’s every command:

  • When man deviated from his assigned path, God became enraged and banished him. He took the ball back and didn’t want to play anymore, so to speak. In this week’s portion that process repeats itself on a global scale. The creator rebukes himself, regrets the creation and, saddened to his core, lashes out murderously: I will blot out man whom I have created from the face of the earth’ (Gen. 6:7). Only much later does God mature, change, relax, and become the God who is patient with his world and his faithful. At this stage every solution that occurs to him is violent, homicidal, and vengeful: the expulsion from the Garden of Eden, the Flood, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, the killing of the firstborn sons, and so on.”

Burg goes on to mention how some (actually many!) rabbinical scholars liken the Holocaust to the Flood. However, Burg contends that the scholars are mistaken for, “In the Flood, humankind had nothing to say because God wasn’t listening. By contrast, the Holocaust was not an act of God, but a destructive act of man who did not hear a thing. How is the God who once utterly destroyed the world by flood different from the God who didn’t intervene in Hitler’s flood?”

The questions he raises are wonderful. In my new volume on Genesis 4-11, I raise similar questions. There is a theological message that might have made Burg’s exposition of the Flood narrative that much more compelling. Simply put, “The Torah speaks in the language of humankind.” Why is this relevant? When the Torah says, “And the LORD was sorry that he had made humankind on the earth,” this is an example of how the human mind imagines the workings of the Divine Mind. The biblical statement really says more about our flawed image of God.

The 18th century Italian commentator and thinker, Shmuel David Luzzato offers a remarkable perspective that deals with Burg’s straightforward questions. Luzzato contends that when the prophet wrote this narrative down, he spoke in an idiom that the people of his generation could understand.” This is a bold statement, for Maimonides, Ibn Ezra, and Philo of Alexandria arrived at the same conclusion. Moses evokes the imagery of curses and calamity because he wants the Israelites to walk the straight and narrow path.

Remember: our ancestors were not philosophers, nor were they theologians. The carrot and the stick theology  found in Deuteronomy’s list of  biblical curses were written for an unsophisticated generation. When you hear religious leaders evoke the “wrath of God” theology when speaking about the Holocaust, Katrina, the Tsunami, or whatever–you get the impression we have not evolved very much since the days of Noah and Moses.

As people evolve, so too does the concept of God also evolve. As the Sages say, “The Torah speaks in the language of man.” Language is never static; it is dynamic, communicative, alive and capable of eternal expression.

Abraham Isaac Kook’s insight about the nature of God language says much about the evolutionary direction that differentiates the God of the Flood vis-à-vis the God of Psalm 23, who is described as a shepherd and companion. Kook notes, “All the ideological arguments among people and all the inner conflicts that every individual suffers in his own world outlook are caused by a confused conception of God . . . .One must always cleanse one’s thoughts about God to make sure they are free of the dross of deceptive fantasies, of groundless fear, of evil inclinations, of wants and inadequacies. Faith in God must enhance human happiness . . . . When the duty to honor God is conceived of in an enlightened manner, it raises human worth and the worth of all creatures, filling them with largeness of spirit, combined with genuine humility. But a crude conception of God tends toward the idolatrous, and degrades the dignity of man and of other beings  . . .” [2]

Does this mean that the God of the Flood is hopelessly incompatible with the God of Psalm 23, Abraham Isaac Kook, or for that matter Maimonides and the mystics? Well, sort of . . . As Burg intimates, the story of the Flood is really a parable. Although Burg does not always make it crystal clear what the parable represents, this ancient story really says a lot the human conception of God. and how it has evolved. By the end of the story (Gen. 9), God rescinds much of his authority to accommodate human freedom.

Erich Fromm has often said, the story of Noah reveals how an impetuous God becomes a constitutional monarch, who learns to rule by law. In his pericope on the Flood, Burg mentions nothing about the covenant God makes with Noah after the Flood. This is an unfortunate omission on Burg’s part. God enters into a covenant with humankind that obligates both parties to work out their differences. Human responsibility represents the new standard for justice. Human beings– from this point forward–are and will forever be responsible for human generated evil that exists in the world—and not God.

Burg’s concluding remarks presents a vision that I wholeheartedly endorse; he writes,

  • The new Torahs that emerge from the Holocaust must point the way toward the shaping of a better humanity, toward teachings that do not give rise to victimizers like the Nazis nor permit victims to be destroyed as were—as the Gypsies, gays who were there with us, as the Armenians before us and the slaughtered of Rwanda and Cambodia after us. The new theology, particularly, the Jewish one, must break through the boundaries of the old faith . . . The time has come for the faith of Noah and his commitment to repairing the world; the time of beliefs in destruction, whether divine or human, is over (p. 17).

Burg’s treatment of the Akedah (“Binding of Isaac,” see Gen. 22) is also interesting; he names that sub-chapter, “Abraham’s Great Failure.” This section did not reveal anything new that I did not hear before. Burg accuses Abraham of failing the test, and he uses an old but familiar approach championed by Kant, the Sefat Emet, Emil Fackenheim, and more recently—Rabbi Shlomo Riskin. Like the others, Burg claims that after the Akedah, God never spoke to Abraham again. I often wonder: How can modern scholars claim to understand the mind of a biblical narrator, or for that matter–God? The Torah only contains a partial disclosure of Abraham and God’s relationship–and nothing more.

As one who has also written extensively on this topic, I believe there is much more to the story of the Akedah than what the postmodernists are willing to admit. Unfortunately, due to time constraints, we will have to tackle this topic at some future date.

Many of Burg’s expositions are wonderful and the way he engages the biblical stories will challenge and renew your spirit. There is a great prophetic and ethical message he brings to the sacred text. What more could you possibly want from such an outstanding book?

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The Linguistic Constructions of Halachic Reality (Updated)


Tap running waterOne of the most respected Chabad authorities on kosher food, who is also the chief rabbi of a haredi city in Israel, has banned the use of tap water on Shabbat.

When I first learned about the prohibition about not using a faucet on the Shabbat, I immediately speculated about its rationale. Well, the Freudian might discern a different motive behind the latest restriction: Could it possibly lead to mixed dancing?

Thank God, not this time.

Bnei Brak’s Rabbi Moshe Yehuda Leib Landa issued a halachic ruling that using a faucet directly turns on electrical water pumping system. Such an offense is, according to a number of Haredi scholars, potentially punishable by stoning.

Actually, there is an interesting aspect to this news story that most of you may not know. Rabbi Landa used to be one of my Talmud mentors in the yeshiva where I studied.

At any rate, I have personally written about this topic as well over the years. He is partially correct if you accept his premise that electricity is on par with lighting a fire—a view that has been disputed by many scholars over the last 130 years.

Some of the key arguments made for banning electricity include:

  • Igniting a fire—This is perhaps the most widely perceived attitude. They argue that an incandescent light generates light and heat by causing an electrical current to flow through a metal filament. Some scholars liken this point to the method “tempering metal” that is mentioned in the Talmud. If one  accidentally tempered a pot’s metal, scholars debate whether this is indeed permitted or not—even if the person never intended to produce such a result (BT Shabbat 41b).
  • Building— Rabbi Avrohom Yeshaya Karelitz, (1878-1953) a.k.a, “ Chazon Ish,” argued that closing an electrical circuit to create current constitutes a biblical prohibition, while closing a circuit is analogous to the prohibited act of destroying. Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach (1910-1995) rejects such an analogy, contending that opening and closing an electrical circuit is no different from opening or closing a door on the Sabbath. Rabbi Auerbach was regarded by many people to be the greatest Halachic scholar of his generation.[1]
  • “Striking the final hammer blow” i.e., making a device operational, for a device does not become complete until the electricity is turned on! Once again, Rabbi Auerbach rejects this exposition. Functionally speaking, an electrical appliance is by its very purpose—temporary. Once it is turned on, it requires minimal effort to reactivate it.
  • “Creating sparks” –Some argue that electrical appliances might create sparks, and that constitutes “creating a fire.” But Rabbi Auerbach retorts, “Not so! The lighting of sparks is unintentional and might not occur. Moreover, sparks are too small to be considered “final.” With solid-state technology, the probability of generating sparks is greatly reduced!”
  • Custom (Minhag)  – Rabbi Auerbach concludes that since most people think electricity on the Shabbat is forbidden, one should not alter the public perception. The only thing one should not turn on is an incandescent light, which he equates with lighting a fire. One of my members is a nuclear engineer. According to him, it is impossible for electrical sparks to be considered, “fire,” since fire requires oxidization in order achieve combustion;  in contrast, electrical sparks can occur virtually anywhere in the cosmos.
  • One might argue that electricity functions more like the element of water and not fire. Unless one is talking about the solar storms that occur on the sun, we generally refer to electricity having both a “current” and a “flow.” Apply Rabbi Auerbach’s reasoning, turning on a light switch is no different from turning on a faucet.

With respect to creating sparks, one can generate between 1500 and 3500 volts just walking across your carpet! I suspect wearing rubber shoes might solve the problem, but this hardly seems like a practical solution for those who really worry about making electricity on the Shabbat. Then again, the human brain is also electrical. Cells use electricity to communicate and stimulate muscles, but the brain takes this to another level. If you could take the brain’s electricity, tap into all the electricity the neurons are generating, you’d have enough power to turn on a flashlight.

By the same line of reasoning, the heart is also electrical. Rabbinical reasoning never imagined that everything that is human runs on electricity–even on the Shabbat!

One might argue that Ludwig Wittgenstein’s theory of “language as game” may help make some sort of sense out of the rabbinical debate concerning the halachic status of electricity. Wittgenstein notes:

  •  But how many kinds of sentence are there? Say assertion, question, and command?—There are countless kinds: countless different kinds of use of what we call ”symbols”, “words”, “sentences”. And this multiplicity is not something fixed, given once for all; but new types of language, new language-games, as we may say, come into existence, and others become obsolete and get forgotten…Review the multiplicity of language-games in the following examples, and in others: Giving orders, and obeying them—Describing the appearance of an object, or giving its measurements—Constructing an object from a description (a drawing)—Reporting an event—Speculating about an event—Forming and testing a hypothesis—Presenting the results of an experiment in tables and diagrams—Making up a story; and reading it—Play-acting—Singing catches—Guessing riddles—Making a joke; telling it—Solving a problem in practical arithmetic—Translating from one language into another—Asking, thanking, cursing, greeting, praying. (PI, 1953, 11–12).

Based on the way Talmudic and discussions operate, I think Wittgenstein’s notion of game theory describes the essential interpretive relativism that is linguistically embedded in Halachic thinking. Simply put: rabbis love creating linguistic walls to construct around their communities. Walls serve to isolate as well as protect their followers from secular, or contrarian Orthodox counter-values, which the rabbis find threatening. The Mishnah often speaks about the importance of “making a fence around the Torah” (Aboth 1:1). However, when you make fences around fences ad infinitum, you have effectively created a labyrinth (also known as a maze). People who let the rabbis micromanage their lives, remain prisoners (for the most part!) in a world fabricated by their own artifice.

R. Yaakob Kranz [2] (1741-1804) once compared the halachic process to someone trying to shoot a bull’s-eye. This can be achieved in one of two ways:

One way involves using skill to hit the center of the target. The other method involves shooting at a random target and then painting concentric circles around wherever the arrow lands. Rabbinic thinking, more often than not, tends to arbitrarily use straw man arguments for the prohibitions they wish to promote. This is especially true with how many of today’s Haredi and Hassidic scholars arrive at foregone conclusions, which will not stand up to logical scrutiny, or for that matter–common sense.

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The Courage to Speak and Honor One’s Truth . . .

Chaim Levin closeup

Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen–Winston Churchill

Over the years, many of us regarded the Jewish Press as the Orthodox answer to the National Enquirer. Mind you, the Enquirer is quite entertaining. However, nobody really takes the Enquirer that seriously, unless you happen to be an UFO or X-Files enthusiast.

Over the years, the Jewish Press has produced some interesting stories; and there was a time when I subscribed to it. Lately, the Jewish Press surprised me. Recently, they published an autobiographical article about a gay Orthodox Jew, named Chaim Levin. Chaim grew up in a well-respected Hassidic home located in Brooklyn’s Crown Heights. The young man wanted to share his story about living in an Orthodox world that wishes he would go back and hide in the closet.

Chaim recalls, “Saying that Hashem would never make a gay person unable to change is simplistic, inconsistent and flat-out wrong. If someone gets into an accident we would never say that we know he can be ‘cured’ simply because his affliction is not genetic and he wasn’t born this way. We would never tell a deaf person (born deaf or not) that his nisayon (ordeal) is to find a way to hear again, so that he can be mekayem (fulfill) the mitzvah of shofar? Yet the Torah Declaration uses all of these arguments to make gay people feel that their nisayon in life is to change their sexuality, simply because it may not be genetic and Hashem would never make it unchangeable. This is the worst kind of rationalized homophobia.”

Despite spending thousands of dollars in therapy to break Chaim of his homosexuality, Chaim realized his parents’ effort to change him was a waste of time. Chaim needed to make peace with his own conscience and so he did.

Chaim’s message is so eloquently simple: “I am simply asking my community not to judge . . . Just because someone is honest about being gay, does not mean that he engages in any sin or chillul Hashem (religious scandal). No one should feel silenced or asked to lie about who they are . . . A little humility goes a long way. Sometimes the kindest and most thoughtful response when it comes to very difficult situations is, ‘I don’t know, but I’m here for you because you are part of my family and community.’”

What does Chaim want? He wants the gift of Presence. He wants people to see and respect his humanity. It is a pity people in many religious communities, e.g., Jewish, Christian, Muslim, regard the gay worshiper as an affront to their values and belief system. In a community where conformity and fitting in are extremely important, you have to admire young Chaim for speaking his truth for all to see and hear.

The loss of human life is especially tragic whenever a young gay Orthodox or Hassidic Jew commits suicide out of a feeling of desperation, loneliness, and hopelessness. There have been numerous suicides in the Orthodox communities of Israel and New York—all because a community refuses to walk its talk about, “Loving your fellow Jew,” even though it is “the basis of our holy Torah.” A couple of years ago, one Haredi rabbi even suggested that if an Orthodox homosexual Jew cannot overcome his “evil inclination,” he should commit suicide! I am certain the Mullahs in Iran would love to offer that kind of “encouragement” to the gay members of their own religious community.

I want to extend kudos to the Editor of the Jewish Press for showing the courage to publish an article that is creating shock-waves within his community. The Jewish Press has received all sorts of threats from a number of its readers. Some of the advertisers have been approached by zealots, telling them to, “Stop advertising, or else!” As the editor wrote his in latest op-ed piece, “A situation where religious Jews are provoking children and adults who are different, to consider suicide is unthinkable and unacceptable.”

So far the advertisers are standing tall and strong and will not back down.

Yes, the Jewish Press is showing the world what real Jewish values are all about. Continue Reading

Creative Gun Control Legislation: Psychological Testing?!

Over a year has passed since the terrible Arizona shooting, when a gunman opened fire, killing six people and wounding 13 others.  Gabrielle Giffords, a conservative Democrat representing Arizona’s Eighth District, was among those wounded. She remained in critical condition after she survived a single gunshot to the head fired at point-blank range. Within three days after the shooting, one of her doctors described her chances of survival as “101 percent.” Her neurosurgeon, Dr. Dong Kim, called her progress “almost miraculous.”

We are all blessed with her recovery, but  greater challenges lie ahead for Gabrielle and ourselves as a nation, which sometimes teeters on the edge of insanity.

We wonder: Have we learned anything new from this devastating experience?

One bill that appeared before Congress proposed that the House of Representatives “reduce” the time allowed for criminal background checks. The Senate asked for a three-business day waiting period. The amended Bill in the House proposed a 24 hour waiting period. The reason: gun shows are very popular during the weekends. They argue that there would be no time to conduct a background check on people wishing to purchase arms.

Oh really?!

I think our politicians are living in Chelm, a place in Jewish history reserved for fools who think they are wise. If somebody wishes to purchase firearms at a convention, why don’t the new purchasers take the test one week before the gun show? What is wrong with this picture?

Over the last decade and a half, more and more states are starting to require psychological testing as a condition of hiring any full time police officer. Given the immense stress of the job, this decision makes perfect sense. In fact, schools across the country now require psychological testing for its faculty members. Even Wal-Mart requires psychological testing for its workers—perhaps because they sell firearms at their stores.

Now, it seems to me that the recent Arizona shooting might have been avoided had the state required psychological testing for anyone wishing to own a gun. In fact, if every state required psychological testing, we might be able to cut down the number of accidental shootings, or even willful shootings that seem to occur every year in our great nation.

One cannot expect a family to recognize or, for that matter, even be willing to admit that their son may have deep-rooted psychological problems requiring professional help. In addition, I think the question of machine guns, semi-automatic weapons, assault-rifles, and similar type weapons should be banned except for the military or police. Private individuals do not need to act like Rambo when a vagrant is breaking into their home. [1]

In Judaism, safety is a religious concern. The Bible requires that a roof be properly gated, in order to prevent people from falling off of it (Deut. 22:8). One precept in particular is especially important, “You shall not curse the deaf; you shall not put a stumbling block before the blind, but you will fear your God; I am YHWH ” (Lev. 19:14).

This verse includes two types of prohibitions: (1) placing a stumbling block in front of the blind for sport or entertainment, (2) taking advantage of someone’s ignorance–especially for pecuniary gain. The verse stresses that a God fearing person will not take advantage of anyone for any reason.

By the expression, “God fearing,” this is the biblical way of describing a moral person who acts with a reverence toward life. God-fearing also indicates that Creator and Judge of the world will hold all such offenders accountable for disrespecting human life. Authentic piety is best reflected by acts of compassion and consideration–especially toward individuals who suffer from a serious disability–whether physical, emotional, intellectual, and psychological. [2]

It is also instructive that Maimonides asserts that enabling someone to commit a crime, (e.g., the individual who offers a bribe, or offers to pay interest on a loan) violates the above biblical dictum.[3]

In light of the Arizona shooting—or for that matter, any other well-known shootings that we have seen in recent history, the Columbine or Virginia Tech incidents—the onus of responsibility cannot be placed on someone who is mentally-impaired or schizophrenic, or someone suffering from psychotic-break with reality.

It is not realistic to expect psychotics like Jared Lee Loughner to behave like normal citizens. I expect the judge will send him to a special hospital for the criminally insane. Local courts and governments have a duty to make it as difficult as possible in determining who can and ought to own a gun. Certain individuals should never own a gun of any kind. The duty to protect citizens is the government’s responsibility.

I would argue that we apply the same standards that exist for other professionals in our country also be applied to anyone wishing to own a gun. The time has come for the gun-lobby to start leading the campaign to protect the country from individuals who endanger public welfare. Ultimately, such a responsible move will not diminish the constitutional rights of owning a gun–but such sensible legislation will enable all of us to breathe easier

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Did King David Really Sin with Bathsheba?

After reading Neil N. Winkler’s new book, “Bringing the Prophets to Life: A Timely Look at a Timeless Story” (Jerusalem: Gefen, 2011), I felt elated. Somebody in the Orthodox world has finally written a book on the Prophets! The study of the Tanakh remains one of the most neglected areas of Jewish study in the yeshiva world today. The study of the Babylonian Talmud remains as popular as ever. The 12th century French Talmudist (and grandson of Rashi), Rabbanu Tam writes, “Nowadays, the study of the Babylonian Talmud has become the dominant focus of study. The early generations of scholars dedicated a third of their time studying the Scriptures.”[1]

Today, Artscroll, Judaica Press, Moznaim have translated a number of fine Orthodox works on the Tanakh, but tend these commentaries have a distinct medieval style that is unsuited for the 21st century. Winkler’s “Bringing the Prophets to Life: A Timely Look at a Timeless Story,” breaks away from these rather dull translations and expositions; he introduces a more conceptual approach to engaging and cross-examining the biblical texts most yeshiva students seldom ever study.

In the interest of brevity, I will focus on his treatment of King David and his affair with Bathsheba.  For me, this particular biblical story deals with the humanity of David that is fascinating. The author discusses the Talmudic view, expressed by Rabbi Judah HaNasi, “Anyone who says King David ‘sinned,’ is simply mistaken” (BT Shabbat 56a). Admittedly, Winkler agrees that the Talmudic perspective is counterintuitive. After all, David does sleep with a married woman; he orders his general to leave Uriah, Bathsheba’s husband, exposed and unprotected in the midst of a raging battle. Talmudic interpretation argues that Uriah provided his wife with a religious divorce (a.k.a., a “get”) prior to his departure to the battlefield. Ergo, Bathsheba wasn’t really, “married,” but happened to be “halachically” divorced. (It’s a good thing King David didn’t have the Israeli Rabbinate advising him!!)

Winkler wonders: “With this clear declaration, our rabbis set forth a challenge to all traditional biblical scholars and students: How can we understand the story of David and Bat-Sheva as found and implied in the text in light of the Talmud’s declaration? Did David not sin at all despite ample references to his sin in the text? What were the rabbinical giants of the past conveying to the future generations?” (p. 108). After explaining the obvious and more straight forward meaning of the text, Winkler admits, “This is certainly not the David who is so God-sensitive  and moral, the David who is so close to his men and his nation, the David we have gotten to know in the course of the twenty chapters . . .

Ok, we get it. David’s behavior doesn’t exactly strike one as “kosher.”

Winkler considers a number of possible expositions to the exegetical problem he poses. One approach suggests that the Talmudic statement is more of a “midrashic” homily, not to be taken literally. According to this reading, David’s behavior is simply, “beyond our ability to understand.” Maybe this is the kind of answer might satisfy the gullible yeshiva students, but it doesn’t satisfy people who live in the real world. Fortunately, Winkler rejects this tasteless approach. Besides, everybody knows King David had a passion for pretty ladies.  David almost committed adultery wth Abagail, but fortunately for him–her husband died! David immediately proposes to Abagail, immediately after Nabal’s death! (cf. 1 Samuel 25:40-42.)

Surprisingly, Winkler argues that David did not actually commit adultery, for if he did—he would have been worthy of the death penalty. However, he is guilty of a “moral trespass.” By the standard of Gentile kings, David does nothing “wrong,” but God expects a higher standard from His anointed.

Sorry Rabbi, that statement doesn’t wash. Archaeological background might have helped Winkler on his last point. Adultery was not considered an acceptable form of behavior of any Semitic king in the ancient world! In Genesis 20:9, the Philistine King Abimelech refers to adultery as חֲטָאָה גְדֹלָה  “the great sin.” When Joseph tried to persuade Madaam Potifar to stay away, he tells her that adultery  is הָרָעָה הַגְּדֹלָה “great evil.” It is obvious that adultery is a sin–even by the standard of Gentile Kings!!

Ancient Israel’s disdain for adultery is consistent with the social attitudes  found among Israel’s neighbors.  For example: unearthed texts from Ugarit [2] and Egypt refer to adultery as a, “great crime.”[3]  The ancients regarded adultery not as a crime against a life-partner, but as a sin against the gods.  The protection of the integrity of the family unit was important because the family is the foundation of society. I will admit, Winkler’s comments probably describe the outrageous behavior of Roman emperors a lot better, but the Semitic kings of the ancient Near East had much higher ethical standards.

Winkler’s proofs are interesting—but certainly debatable! (1)  The prophet Nathan never criticizes David for having committed adultery. Rather, he criticizes David for arranging Uriah’s death.  (2)  When David confesses his sin, he carefully says, “I have sinned to God,” i.e., he did not commit a sin against Bat Sheva. As further proof, Winkler cites the verse, “Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight . . .” Finally, Winkler cites a third biblical passage where the biblical narrator briefly alludes to “the matter of Uriah the Hittite” (1 Kgs. 15:5) and never makes mention of this incident again.

Oy, Rabbi Winkler has studied way too much pilpul (hair-splitting  Talmudic sophistry). Why must we defend every outlandish rabbinic statement? Since when are the Talmudic Sages infallible beings? Some of the rabbis thought Rebekah was 3 years old when she first met Isaac, or that the giant Og, hitched a ride on Noah’s ark. Some comments are just plain silly and are not oracles from Sinai.

Abarbanel’s commentary (ca. 15th century), offers a stinging criticism of King David—and represents a view that Winkler ignored.

  • Rabbi Judah HaNasi’s words are nothing more than a Midrashic homily, hardly requiring a response. I can easily excuse Rabbi Judah’s words, for he was a descendant from David [4], and was not really truthfully speaking . . .  The Scriptures reveals all the sordid details of his illicit affair for all to see, and if David did not “sin,” how could he say, “I have sinned to the LORD”? Why did he go out of his way to repent in the most appropriate manner, as the verse attests, “Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight . . .” (Psa. 51:5)? . . . I cannot and will not contradict the Scriptures on this matter! Rebbe’s opinion that “King David’s soldiers all issued a religious divorce to all of his soldiers, in the event they died in war” is simply not warranted by the text, for King David says to Uriah, “You have just come from a journey. Why did you not go down to your house? . . .(2 Sam. 11:10).  . . . I would rather say King David truly sinned, and he truly repented and suffered greatly until he finally obtained atonement.

As a shepherd, David’s job was to take care of God’s flock—and not molest it. This is the entire point of the pastoral parable Nathan the Prophet gently conveyed to King David (2 Samuel 12:1-6). Nathan spoke respectfully to the King, and did not need to catalog each sin David committed in detail because he felt David had some redemptive potential.

Abarbanel’s commentary is important because he demands that we–the reader–be blatantly honest with the text. In addition to Abarbanel’s text, there is an interesting Mishnah that speaks about moral accountability. “If a person sends forth fire in the hands of a deaf-mute, an idiot or a minor he is not liable by the laws of man, but he is liable by the laws of Heaven.” [5] Ordinarily, if a person makes someone a proxy to do something wrong, the person who commits the crime is responsible (this obviously not so with an American court!). It is surprising the Talmudic teachers never thought to include David’s plot to kill Uriah as part of the Talmudic discussion. I suspect the rabbis did not wish to tarnish King David or his descendant, Rabbi Judah HaNasi. If anything, the story of Uriah proves that a man can still be guilty if he sent somebody to commit a heinous crime. Admittedly, my exposition does turn the rabbinic position on top of its head, but what else is a postmodernist (like myself) supposed to do?

In the final analysis, each person is answerable to God for one’s actions. This principle does not apply to someone who is irresponsible, but in the case of a King, the text makes it abundantly clear that the King is morally responsible if he delegates someone to commit mayhem in his name.

King David’s and King Ahab provide an interesting study in contrasts. Ahab covets “Naboth’s vineyard. The evil Jezebel uses a ruse to get Naboth killed for, “cursing the God and the King,” and poor Naboth is executed and his vineyard is confiscated (1 Ki 21:5-16). At first, Ahab’s behavior seems more forgivable, since he did not know about Jezebel’s conspiracy to get rid of Naboth. However, everything changes when he goes along with Naboth’s execution! Elijah condemns Ahab (and Jezebel’s) behavior and boldly says, “You shall say to him, “Thus says the Lord: Have you killed, and also taken possession?” You shall say to him, “Thus says the Lord: In the place where dogs licked up the blood of Naboth, dogs will also lick up your blood” (1 Ki 21:5-16). Naboth never shows any remorse for his behavior, much like Saul.

Winkler makes a fine distinction between King Saul, who denies all responsibility when the prophet confronts him, vis-à-vis King David, who soon acknowledges responsibility, once he is confronted by the evidence and truth—the mark of an honest leader. Throughout the Bible, God always uses weak people to achieve His purpose. David may be powerful on the battlefield, but his home life is a complete mess! I think many American families can easily relate to David’s foibles and humanity.

In contemporary terms, Bill Clinton’s affair with the young White House intern, Monica Lewinsky is a perfect illustration of a leader who denies moral culpability, especially when the whole nation confronts him with the evidence and truth. How can any modern Bible teacher not use such a fantastic illustration? The situation with Newt Gingrich’s infidelity is a bit more complicated, especially because he claims he has repented.

Who knows? Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.

Winkler’s book accomplishes his goal quite well. His book creates a dialogue. Intrabiblical texts offer a wonderful way to compare and cross examine well-known biblical narratives, which Winkler does a fine job weaving various passages together in making his points. I am sure the author hopes the conversation he has initiated shall move beyond the ideas he proposes in his book. No author can hope for anything more. In his next book, Rabbi Winkler may want to follow the style Nechama Leibowitz developed in her weekly parsha studies. All and all, Rabbi Winkler’s book held my interest. Continue Reading

Today’s Pretenders of Talmudic Piety

The Neturei Karta cannot bear looking at the face of a woman—whether a real woman, or merely the image of a woman’s face, which they find “erotic.”

The philosopher Emmanuel Lévinas observed that the face is the only part of the body that we see in all of its nakedness. Lévinas develops this thought:

• Access to the face is straightaway ethical. . . . There is first the very uprightness of the face, its upright exposure, without defense. The skin of the face is that which stays most naked, most destitute. It is the most naked, though with a decent nudity. It is the most destitute also: there is an essential poverty in the face; the proof of this is that one tries to mask this poverty by putting on poses, by taking on a countenance. The face is exposed, menaced, as if inviting us to an act of violence. At the same time, the face is what forbids us to kill. (Ethics and Infinity 85-86).

The human face is God’s mirror; it is the reflection of our deepest humanity. It is capable of infinite expressions; emotions reveal the essence of our souls. How could we disrespect the one part of our neighbor’s humanity, whose countenance commands without words? The Ultra-Orthodox cannot look at a woman’s face, because to do so they would have to respect her humanity. Unfortunately, they do not see a human being with feelings, hopes and dreams. All they see is a sexual object to tantalize their forbidden thoughts and imagination. Nothing is more dehumanizing.

One prominent Orthodox rabbi, Rabbi Shlomo Aviner, decided to blot out the picture of Ruti Fogel, who was brutally murdered in the West Bank settlement of Itamar, along with her husband and children. Rabbi Aviner’s yeshiva, Machon Meir, publish some of the finest books in Judaic scholarship. It is a halachically progressive school. On the cover of the Machon Meir Newsletter, they blotted out her picture—allegedly, “out of respect.”

What kind of person gets sexually excited when seeing the image of a murder victim? Where is the “respect” in this kind of “halachic” ruling? The Machon Meir Yeshiva has actually dishonored someone who has died a Kiddush HaShem.

Somebody asked me the other day, “What is the Talmudic source for the Haredi ban on the woman’s face?” I thought about it. Actually, there is some antecedent in the Talmud. The Sages wondered, “What constitutes indecent exposure with respect to the She’ma prayer?” The Rabbis grappled with this issue:

R. Isaac said, “Anyone who gazes at one handbreadth of skin belonging to a married woman, constitutes sexual arousal.” Another rabbi said, “Even gazing at a woman’s pinky, constitutes indecent exposure. R. Hisda says, “Even a woman’s exposed leg constitutes indecent exposure.” Samuel said, “Even a woman’s voice constitutes indecent exposure!” (BT Berachoth 24a).

As strange as this Talmudic passage may seem to most of us, remember: the rabbis were concerned solely with a man’s intention, when uttering the She’ma. None of the rabbis prescribed burkas for the women of their community; nor did they tell their followers not to “look” at a woman.

Today’s Ultra-Orthodox acts more out of a sense of hubris; they believe that they are as pious as the rabbis were in the days of yore.

The Hasmonean King Alexander Jannaeus actually offers his Queen Salome some practical advice that one would not expect to hear, “King Jannai said to his wife’, ‘Fear not the Pharisees and the non-Pharisees. Beware of the hypocrites who ape the Pharisees; because their deeds are as immoral as Zimri’s; yet, they expect a reward like Phineas” (BT Shabbat 16b). Continue Reading

Abortion as an Ethical Dilemma 2/3

Although the Torah does not directly speak about willful destruction of the fetus as a “right,” nevertheless, the sanctity ancient Israel attributed to human life probably made abortion unimaginable.

The reason for this is simple: Infant mortality in biblical times was close to 50% and it is only natural that attitudes about voluntary abortion probably met with horror and disapproval. Arguments drawn from Scriptures seem inconclusive at best. The lone Pentateuchal source dealing with the legal status of the fetus comes from a section of Exodus dealing with the problem of miscarriage:

  • When men have a fight and hurt a pregnant woman, so that she suffers a miscarriage, but no further injury, the guilty one shall be fined as much as the woman’s husband demands of him, and he shall pay in the presence of the judges. But if injury ensues, you shall give life for life” (Exod. 21:22–23).

The verse may be interpreted in a two ways:

It would seem that the Mosaic legislation considered the fetus property, and should not be viewed as living person, like its mother.  Financial compensation to the woman’s husband is determined by the judges, based on the development of the fetus. Such an interpretation has a parallel in the Hittite Laws, 17, in its treatment of the miscarriage. Most biblical translations regard verse 22 as referring to a miscarriage:

  • Some scholars[1] translate v. 22-23 differently, “If men fight and hit a pregnant woman and her child is born prematurely, but there is no serious injury, he will surely be punished in accordance with what the woman’s husband demands of him, and he will pay what the court decides” (NET). The term אָסוֹן (˒āsôn) does not mean “death,” as interpreted in the Mechilta, but ought to be rendered as, “health complications,” or, “serious harm,” to the child. Accordingly, if the v. 23 may be speaking of the death of the fetus as well, and the assailant is subject to the death penalty.

Based on the latter deconstructive reading, the death of a well-developed fetus could be viewed as a capital offense. Moreover even v. 22 may not necessarily be speaking about miscarriage as such, but a pre-mature birth and would involve lesser injuries to the mother and the baby—depending upon its physical development. Thus, according to this view, the fetus could be viewed as having a status similar or identical to that of human beings.

Other ancient codes of the ancient Near East (ANE) viewed voluntary abortion in grave terms. According to the Middle Assyrian Laws dating back to 1600 B.C.E., observes that if a woman died as a result of having induced her own abortion, her body was publicly impaled and denied a proper burial.[2] Assyrians viewed this act of impaling as a form of tallionic justice on account of the mother’s murdering of her fetus. According to the laws of Lipit-ištar, as well as the Middle Assyrian Laws, if the woman dies, the man himself will be put to death.[3] The Code of Hammurabi also includes laws regarding miscarriages and determines a monetary settlement based upon the mother’s social status.[4] The Hittite laws do not deal with the cases where the mother dies. Continue Reading

Abortion as an Ethical Dilemma 1/3

* This is an older article I wrote back in 2009. So, if there is any overlap of ideas, please forgive me.

Abortion, as such, is not discussed in the Tanakh. Explanations  as to why it is not legislated or commented are at best speculative. The biblical world was much more concerned with the survival of its members, rather than with the willful termination of its unborn. Archaeological evidence suggests that in ancient Israel the infant mortality rate was about 50%.

Discussions concerning abortion are ancient indeed. The Torah imposes a fine on the assailant for causing abortion of a woman’s fetus in the course of a quarrel, and the penalty of death if the woman’s dies as a result of the assailant’s attack. “When two people who are fighting injure a pregnant woman so that there is a miscarriage, and yet no further harm follows, the one responsible shall be fined what the woman’s husband demands, paying as much as the judges determine. If any harm follows, then you shall give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe” (Exod. 21:22-23).

Ancient Discussions

If the Code of Hammurabi is of any indication, the Torah had in mind only financial damages but did not advocate the death penalty for the death of the fetus—regardless how premature or maturely it was. In Section 209: Hammurabi writes, “If a man strike a free woman and cause her fruit to depart, he shall pay ten shekels of silver for her fruit.”

Perceptions regarding the status of the embryo changed centuries later during the days of Greek culture. A new interpretation was introduced that radically transformed our understanding of the biblical text. According to the ancient Greek translation of the Scriptures, the Septuagint, the Torah decreed that under certain circumstances, the death of the fetus could be imposed for causing an abortion:

ἐὰν δὲ ἐξεικονισμένον ἦν δώσει ψυχὴν ἀντὶ ψυχῆς

[And if two men strive and smite a woman with child; and her child be born imperfectly formed, he shall be forced to pay a penalty: as the woman's husband may lay upon him, he shall pay with a valuation.] But if it be perfectly formed, he shall give life for life . . . (Exod. 21:22)

Philo of Alexandria comments on this passage of the Septuagint, “But if anyone has a contest with a woman who is pregnant, and strike her a blow on her belly, and she miscarry, if the child which was conceived within her is still unfashioned and unformed, he shall be punished by a fine, both for the assault which he committed and also because he has prevented nature, who was fashioning and preparing that most excellent of all creatures, a human being, from bringing him into existence. But if the child which was conceived had assumed a distinct shape in all its parts, having received all its proper connective and distinctive qualities, he shall die; for such a creature as that is a man, whom he has slain while still in the workshop of nature, who had not thought it as yet a proper time to produce him to the light, but had kept him like a statue lying in a sculptor’s workshop, requiring nothing more than to be released and sent out into the world.[1]

Philo juxtaposes abortion with the ancient practice of exposure. He writes: “On account of this commandment he also adds another proposition of greater importance, in which the exposure of infants is forbidden, which has become a very ordinary piece of wickedness among other nations by reason of their natural inhumanity . . .”

Josephus also regards abortion as morally akin to murder.[2] Nevertheless, in practice, he followed rabbinical tradition, “He that kicks a woman with a child, so that the woman miscarry, let him pay a fine in money, as the judges shall  determine, as having diminishing the multitude by the destruction of what was in her womb.”[3]

Josephus and Philo may have been of the opinion that the assailant had to pay two fines, one to the husband, and the second fine to charity for depriving the human race of one less person. It is also possible the Hellenistic understanding did run contrary to what later became Talmudic Halacha. Nevertheless, it does reflect the disdain Jews have had throughout history concerning abortion—at least as a method of birth-control. Given the high degree of infant-mortality, this reaction was quite understandable.

Unlike the Septuagint, Talmudic scholars maintained that the word אָסוֹן (´äsôn) “harm” refers to the woman and not to the fetus, since the scriptural injunction, “He who fatally strikes a man shall be put to death” (Exo. 21:12), did not apply to the killing of a fetus.[4] Ancient rabbis did not consider abortion a sin unless the fetus was viable בן קיימא  (ben keyama)—still and all, if the infant was so much as only  one day old , his killer is guilty of murder (Niddah. 5:3).[5]

According to the view of R. Ishmael, only a Gentile, to whom some of the basic transgressions applied with greater stringency, incurred the death penalty for causing the loss of the fetus (Sanhedrin 57b). Though abortion was frowned upon in the ancient world, it did not constitute murder.[6] In one well known Responsa of R. Yosef Trani (14th century), the author argued against a Jew assisting in an abortion, because it “places a stumbling block before the blind (Lev. 19:14).” This Halachic attitude did not apply to therapeutic abortion.

All this doesn’t necessarily mean that the rabbis had a permissive attitude concerning abortion. Clearly, it wasn’t. Thus we find in one medieval Midrashic work that Israel is praised because in spite of Pharaoh’s genocidal decree, in Egypt, “Every boy that is born you shall throw into the Nile,  (Exod. 1:22), “Not one Israelite woman so much as harmed her foetus, much less after its birth. By virtue of their reverence for life, Israel merited the exodus” (Zohar II 3b).

Abortion is permitted if the fetus endangers the mother’s life. The Mishnah reads: “When a woman travails to give birth [and it is feared she may die], one may sever the fetus from her womb and extract it, member by member, for her life takes precedence over his”[7 This is the case only as long as the foetus has not emerged into the world, when it is not a life at all and “it may be killed and the mother saved.”[8] Once the birthing process has begun,  if the greater part of the fetus has emerged into the world-either its head only, or its breach—it may not be touched, even if it endangers the mother’s life  אין דוחין נפש מפני נפש (ein dohin nefesh mi-penei nefesh) “one may not discard one life to save another.”

In another passage of the Talmud, a newborn child is not considered to be viable, until it has lived for 30 days![9] How do we reconcile this passage with the above?

Back to the Future: Contemporary Perspectives

Rav Ben Tsion Uziel, the late Chief Sephardic Rabbi, observes in his Responsa, “When a child dies within 30 days, it is considered as if it was a stillborn and is not mourned for like a person who has died. It becomes evident only in retrospect, that it was stillborn [nofale] and that the period of its life was only a continuation of the mother’s vitality. Since there was no way to ascertain whether the foetus was indeed stillborn or not, it is not a crime one can be executed for because of doubt. Nevertheless, it is certainly prohibited to kill it because of doubt.”[10] This passage of Ben Uziel does have ramifications to another area of Halacha pertaining to discontinuing life-support mechanisms for a  seriously impaired newborn baby. A more contemporary  scholar, Rav Abraham Steinberg, notes “when in doubt, it is better to error in favor of life.”

Just to digress, it is interesting to note  that in a similar way, Christian theologian Augustine raised a key question in his own time, as it is now, was “at what time the infant begins to live in the womb; whether life exists in a latent form before it manifests itself in the motions of the living being.” Augustine admits that he cannot assuredly say at exactly what point human life begins. He seriously questions whether any human has the power to decisively say. Nevertheless, he asserts that anyone who looked at the cut-up remains of an aborted baby would have to recognize that this had been a human life. Although Augustine apparently had a firm belief that a developing foetus participates in human life, he argues equally strongly here that a conclusive proof is outside our human ability. There is some leniency if for example, the abortion will save the mother from an  illness deriving from an inflammation not connected with the pregnancy, or a poisonous fever . . . in these cases the fetus is not [per se] the cause of her illness.”[11]

Among modern Halachic authorities, psychological reasons are also a factor to allow abortions. The great 18th century Halachic giant,  Rabbi Yaakov  Emden, permitted abortion “as long as the foetus has not emerged from the womb, even if not in order to save the mother’s life, but only to save her from the harassment and great pain which the foetus causes her.[12]

One early 20th century scholar, Rav Ben Tsion Uziel, rules in favor of allowing an abortion in order to save the mother’s hearing, even though her life was not endangered. Disgrace and the quality of life are a very important factor to take into consideration when deciding whether one is undergo an abortion.[13] In the case of pregnancy resulting from incest, or any adulterous union, the 18th century savant, R. Yaakov Emden, permitted abortion so that the stigma of bastardy be attached to her offspring.[14]

With regard to the dreaded Tay-Sachs disease, Rav Eliezer Waldenberg permits the abortion, since as he writes in his Responsa: “One should permit abortion as soon as it becomes obvious from the results of the test that the child is indeed, a Tay-Sach’s baby will be born—even until the seventh month of pregnancy. If we are able to permit abortion according to the Halacha because of great need and because of pain and anguish, it seems reasonable that this is the classic case for extending such permission. And it is irrelevant in what way pain and suffering is expressed; whether it be physical or psychological—It is all the same. Indeed, psychological suffering in many ways in greater than the bodily suffering.”[15]

R. Eliezer Waldenberg also notes that whenever possible, all such abortions should be performed within the first forty days of the pregnancy or at least within the first three months.[16] Pope Gregory XIII [1572-85) expresses a similar view, and wrote that an embryo less than forty days was not yet considered human. Incidentally,  it was only in 1869, Pope Pius IX who along with this doctrine of infallibility, decreed that the destruction of an embryo—even to save the mother’s life — was a mortal sin that merited excommunication from the Church.[17]

Many Orthodox scholars differ and are of the view that Jewish law prohibits abortion when its sole justification is to prevent the birth of a physically deformed or retarded baby. Likewise, abortion—on demand—purely for the convenience of the mother or even society is considered morally repugnant.”[18]

Suffice it to say as in any Halachic matter, there is no carte blanche answer for every conceivable case in Halacha—especially with regard to abortion.  Every case must be determined by its own unique circumstances. A competent rabbi should be able to help guide any person who is wrestling with this important decision. There is no one answer for such a complex issue as abortion. Continue Reading

Early Rabbinic Reflections on Capital Punishment (Part 1/2)

There can be no doubt rabbinic tradition took a dim view of capital punishment. Mishnahic law required that those accused be warned by witnesses immediately before they commit the offense, and that they acknowledge such warning—a clear indication of the rabbinic distaste for capital punishment, explicitly found elsewhere.[1] Life imprisonment did exist for cases that could not technically be legally prosecuted, even though the evidence left no room for doubt[2]; such a person had to subsist on sparse diet of barley bread and water, and the Talmud indicates the criminal usually died from starvation. There may be a Scriptural allusion to this practice: the prisoner was condemned to eat “the bread of misfortune and the water of distress” (Isa. 30:20). Other rabbinic statements express even greater ambivalence:

  • R. Yose says, “Under no circumstances is one put to death unless both witnesses against him have given warning to him,” as it is said, ‘At the testimony of two witnesses’ (Deut. 7:6).”[3] He whose trial ended and who fled and was brought back before the same court—they do not reverse the judgment concerning him and retry him. He whose trial ended and who fled and was brought back before the same court—they do not reverse the judgment concerning him and retry him . . . A Sanhedrin which imposes the death penalty once in seven years is called murderous. R. Eleazar b. Azariah says, “Once in seventy years.” R. Tarfon and R. Akiba say, “If we were on a Sanhedrin, no one would ever be put to death.”[4] Rabban Simeon b. Gamaliel says, “So these Sages would multiply the number of murderers in Israel.”[5]

Moreover, the defendant may not be put to death unless two (or in some cases three) eyewitnesses testify against him or her.  Each witness must be so certain of his testimony that he personally would be willing to carry out the execution.  A passage from Deuteronomy 19:13-21 asserts that a plotting witness is subject to the same punishment as the defendant—including, presumably, death. Although the Torah prescribes the death penalty in the case of adolescent rebellion (i.e., “the rebellious son” of Deut. 21:18-21), the Sages admit, “Such a case never occurred, and it never will happen.” The entire passage is heuristic, so, “That you may study [the Torah for its own sake] and receive reward.”[6] The rabbinic angst and reticence to implement the death penalty, and its alternative system of imprisonment is of great relevance for modern biblical scholars and laity.

Rabbinic law is pretty straightforward about such cases. Maimonides writes, “The following rules apply when two groups of witnesses offer conflicting testimonies. If one witness from one group came together with one witness from the other group and they both delivered testimony concerning another matter, the testimony is of no consequence for it is obvious that one of them lied, but we cannot ascertain which one.”[7]Likewise Maimonides also notes, “Should a court err with regard to a case involving capital punishment and convict an innocent person, ruling that he is guilty, and they discover a rationale that would require that the ruling be nullified and he be vindicated, they nullify the ruling and retry the case. If the Court erroneously ruled and acquitted a person liable to be executed, then the judgment is not nullified and the case is not retried.”[8]

According to the Jerusalem Talmud, if one of a hundred witnesses is declared invalid, the entire testimony is rejected.[9]This was certainly the case here, and in a Jewish court, Troy Davis would never have been executed on this basis alone, and would have probably even been set free. Beyond this point, if the judge suspects the witnesses are indeed lying, he must refuse to render a decision upon the basis of their evidence (cf. Isa. 11:3-4).[10] Unlike American civil law that allows known criminals to testify in court against an alleged murderer, Rabbinic law prohibits the testimony of criminals either because they have zero credibility in rabbinical law and a valid witness is not even allowed to be associated with a dishonest witness.[11]

Continue Reading

The House of Cards

Haredi family

Religious societies probably grapple with the problem of shame more so than your typical secular community. Rigors of ordinary Orthodox Jewish life are daunting enough. When compared to the members of the Haredi community, Orthodox Jews might just as well consider themselves, “Reform,” or even Unitarian. The Haredi live as though they belong in the 18th century. The modern world with all of its technological wizardly threatens to unravel the foundations of their society. Bombarded by an endless stream of Internet images, they feel as though their world is collapsing—and it is.

Technology is only part of the problem. The world has changed; feminism has redefined the role of a woman in society.  In premodern times, Jewish women  usually spent their days cooking and cleaning the house. She was wholly devoted to raising her family. Today’s Haredi woman often finds herself forced to find work in order to support her family. She does it without fanfare. Today’s Haredi woman behaves like a classical “woman of valor,” mentioned in the book of Proverbs.

  • She is like the ships of the merchant, she brings her food from far away . . . She considers a field and buys it; with the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard. She girds herself with strength, and makes her arms strong. She perceives that her merchandise is profitable. Her lamp does not go out at night (Proverbs 31:14-18).

What does the Haredi husband do? He sharpens his mind through the study of Talmud. He asserts his position as the man of the house, while everyone cringes in fear. Behind the bravado of the Haredi male is a person who suffers from low self-esteem. On some level, he feels ashamed he cannot provide for his family like other Haredim in the United States or in Europe. Most Haredi men lack the most basic skills to hold a job down; they are barely literate. Most of what they study in yeshiva is impractical. Their wives, on the other hand, interact with the modern world. These women have proven to be capable, personable, and successful. Haredi women are their family’s primary breadwinners and they are proud of their accomplishments! The men are jealous of their wives–and for good reason.

So what do these men do? They marginalize and bully the woman—not just their wives, but all women and girls. When they see a young and confidant Orthodox woman, they cringe with pain. They fear such women might actually inspire their wives to choose strength over weakness. They emphasize the “inferiority” of women by excluding them from aspects of public life, and segregating them in the back of the bus.

Why are the Haredi men doing this? The answer is simple: in their hierarchical society, they feel as though the walls of tradition are crashing down upon them from the force of modernity–and indeed they are!

Are the Haredi men completely responsible for this dilemma?

Not entirely.

Their rabbis enabled this kind of behavior for decades.

Prominent Hassidic (and Haredi) rabbis insist that none of their followers study in colleges for an education. As a result, their followers remained trapped in limbo between two opposite worlds: the pre-modern and the postmodern. Karl Marx warned us about the dangers of religious corruption when he said, “Religion is the opium of the masses.” The Haredi structure has a very strong Hassidic constituency,[1] but the Lithuanian and Sephardic components also support this mindset, howbeit to a lesser degree.

Hassidic rebbes, like Rabbi Israel of Ruzhin (1796-1850), developed a new trend that continues today. According to the Israeli scholar David Assaf, this Rebbe unabashedly demanded enormous sums of money from his Hasidim (presumably without offering kickbacks or illegally inflated tax-receipts). His garments consisted of outrageously lavish, silver and gold-laced outfits, favored royally and decorative walking-sticks. The Rebbe even had an orchestra to serenade him to sleep. He traveled in gilded chariot drawn by dozen white stallions (some say six Arabians, while others argue three Rumanian nags). And he infamously was fond of declaring, as a kind of personal motto, “All the money in the world belongs to me.”

You probably heard the old song, “Oy, diamonds are a Rebbe’s best friend!”

Rabbi Yisrael of Ruzhin was not the only one to behave this way. Many of today’s Rebbes have sometimes resorted to crime, money-laundering, and other terrible crimes in order to maintain their lavish lifestyle.

Although scholars like Martin Buber love to write stories about a Rebbe’s piety, not all of them were pious. In fact, many weren’t. Today’s successors in Jerusalem have no financial difficulty providing for their own families. Yet, they begrudge their followers to go out and get a college education. Contact with the outside world remains taboo. Their gullible followers live in squalor, and they take out their angst on their poor women, who are too fearful of the consequences if they fail to comply. An educated person knows how to think for oneself. Knowledge is power; it also creates an opportunity to succeed.

Christopher Hitchens once said, “Shepherds don’t look after sheep because they love them—although I do think some shepherds like their sheep too much. They look after their sheep so they can, first, fleece them and second, turn them into meat. That’s much more like the priesthood as I know it.”

Hitchens’ remarks especially apply to the Hassidic and Haredi rabbis, as well.

All the Halachic prohibitions and stringencies cannot prevent their world from imploding. What the Haredim really need are genuine leaders who deeply care for the flock God has entrusted them. They need leaders to encourage them to take responsibilities for their families; they need to encourage them to become givers, and not mere takers of society’s dole.