A Postmodern Rabbinical Perspective on Same-Sex Marriage

President Obama’s revelation surprised me. I wondered: Why did it take him so long to state his opinion? Wasn’t it obvious?

True, the President indicated that he had reservations on whether he should personally endorse same sex marriage, or not. Although I think the President would be wise to speak more about the economy, the question about accepting gay relationships and marriage is an important issue—but not because of its political ramifications. In a democratic society, the homogenization of public opinion is not always possible or even desirable. People have a right to their opinions on this subject—even if I, as a citizen, may not necessarily agree.

There is a higher issue at work here: it’s really about personal autonomy, i.e., the freedom for consensual adults to live one’s personal life without government interference. Therefore, I support anyone’s right to choose having a same-sex marriage.

In all honesty, I did not always feel this way.

Let me share a story with you. In the late 1980s, I lived in San Francisco and I was the rabbi of a Modern Orthodox congregation in the Richmond District of San Francisco. My father was a Holocaust survivor who had witnessed many terrible things in Auschwitz and Majdanek, two of the worse concentration camps of the Holocaust era. Hitler, as you may know, went after the gay community and killed approximately 15,000 in the camps. My father remembered seeing how they were treated. Their suffering left an impression upon him that he never forgot.

After settling in Alameda, CA., my father helped establish Alameda’s first Reform synagogue—Temple Israel. Well, one Sunday, I went to visit my father and he was on his way to attend a wedding. I asked him, “Where are you going?” He replied, I am going to be a witness for a gay Jewish wedding.” Feeling surprised—even shocked—I observed, “Dad, you never cease to amaze me; you are the last person I would have ever expected to participate in a marriage ceremony, given your religious background . . .” Dad replied with a smile, “What’s the matter with you son? What’s so terrible about two human beings wanting to affirm their love and commitment to each other?”

My Father’s words left a lasting impression. He helped me to look beyond the religious barriers that tend to stigmatize or marginalize feeling people in the name of “Tradition.” Just as I mentioned earlier, same-sex unions between consenting adults is a privacy issue. Nobody—whether it is the State or the Church or synagogue—has the right to micromanage people’s personal lives.

Earlier this past week, I briefly participated on an Orthodox blog named Hirhurim, and while I was on, I was surprised to read some of the comments regarding Rabbi Elliot Dorf, who happens to be an outstanding Conservative rabbinical scholar. One person felt it was wrong to call Rabbi Dorf by his title, “Rabbi,” since he endorses gay marriages. Some of us demurred. I wrote, “Whether you recognize Rabbi Dorf as a rabbi is not the issue here; it’s really about respect. You cannot go wrong showing kindness to another person. One can politely agree to disagree without being disagreeable.”

As the conversation ensued, one participant quipped, “According to the Torah, homosexuality is punishable by death!” I asked him, “Can you show me a single instance in Judaism where anyone was ever executed for being a homosexual?” He had no answer. I pointed out that there are two kinds of cases where a homosexual may be executed according to the Mishnah. One case pertains to someone who is threatening to sodomize a man, i.e., homosexual rape. Alternatively, the Mishnah may be speaking of someone threatening to sodomize an underage male child (BT Sanhedrin 73a). However, both cases appear to be only theoretical for there is no court record of any homosexual ever having been executed. If anything, the law is heuristic and intended for some future application, should the practical need arise. In the medieval Jewish period, the death penalty was sometimes administered on an ad hoc basis.

In our discussion, I explained that the scriptural basis of this law most likely derives from the famous biblical story of Lot and the angels:

  • But before they laid down, the men of the city, the men of Sodom, both young and old, all the people to the last man, surrounded the house; 5 and they called to Lot, “Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us, so that we may know them.” (Gen 19:4-5).

Obviously, the townspeople were interested in not inviting the guests for coffee, cake or crumpets. However, one thing is motivating their behavior—a desire to show that they are in control.  Homosexual rape has nothing to with love or even, “free love (for you ex-Hippies). However, it has everything to do with dominance and control. This would also explain why the Torah considers the rape of a male—“an abomination” (Lev. 20:13). Although this term is not used for cases of ordinary rape, one must remember that in a patriarchal society, sodomizing someone against his will evokes disgust and primal fear. In fact, it still does—even in the 21st century.

So, in the final analysis, what does this mean? For one thing, ancient Israel’s society differed considerably from our own. Just because Abraham and Sarah lived in tents, doesn’t mean that we should live in tents also in order to emulate their particular lifestyle. Monogamous male relationships probably did not exist, or, happened to be extremely uncommon in ancient Israel, as it later occurred in Greek and Roman societies. Therefore, the issue of a same-sex marriage is for all practical terms historically irrelevant.

In addition, I would add that there are numerous passages that we do not interpret the Torah literally. The Torah tells us to “circumcise the foreskin of our hearts” (Deut. 10:16). Yet, I do not know of any fundamentalist who would interpret this passage literally; if he did, he would be a fool. In fact, the rabbis frequently refused to interpret biblical legislation pertaining to the death penalty literally because of their concern for the social welfare of the community.[1] We do not stone people for adultery either. If we did, a sizable portion of our society would be dead by now.

Unlike the Fundamentalists of the evangelical community, which tends to focus on the literalism of biblical truth, Jewish tradition has long argued that exegetical interpretations are derived contextually as well. Evangelical scholars often derive the prohibition against same-sex marriage from the biblical passage, “Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and clings to his wife, and they become one flesh” (Gen 24:25).

While it is true the Genesis passage speaks of a marriage between a man and a woman who create new life, one must remember that marriage is not only for the sake of siring children. The emotional bond of marriage, i.e., “becoming one flesh” can also mean a fully monogamous life that involves sharing and caring to one another. Marriage is the most profound connection that binds two human beings as they face good and sorrowful times together. Each partner is always present supporting the other. “One flesh” entails a lifelong, exclusive attachment of one person to another—both physically and spiritually; this sharing involves a willingness to eliminate all the barriers that keeps their hearts apart from one another.

In summary,  a contextual reading of the Torah dealing with homosexuality allows for a more elastic postmodern interpretation that could conceivably permit same-sex marriages.

One last question arises: Is it Halachic?

Halacha is not a static system. It allows for a radical re-visioning of Jewish law based upon the ever changing social circumstances. Hillel, for example, permitted people to circumvent the agricultural laws of the Sabbatical Year—despite the fact scripturally speaking—all debts are cancelled.[2] People who have committed suicide used to be buried in the outer parameters of a Jewish cemetery as a sign of disgrace. Today, psychoanalysis has completely altered our understanding of suicide, which often has physical or psychological causes that overpower a mentally ill person. The rabbis of the Talmud did not understand or legislate against pedophilia, but given what we now know about this terrible social and psychological disease, we would be foolish to rely on the views of Sages that lived almost 2000 years ago who thought molesting a child was harmless.[3] Women never voted in biblical times; today, despite the fact that many Halachic scholars think it is biblically forbidden for women to participate in an election or even run for a political office[4] (see the Woman’s Suffrage debate of the early 20th century in the halachic literature[5]).

For generations, the Orthodox homosexual has been marginalized, ignored, and often shamed for being “different.”

This can no longer be tolerated.

Across the Orthodox divide, more and more Orthodox gays are “coming out” and demand that they be treated honorably and lovingly by their families and by their communities. The world has changed, and so must the Halacha. Nobody has the moral or halachic right to expect or demand that a Jewish homosexual ought to spend the rest of his/her life in seclusion, bereft of a life companion. Continue Reading

Ethical Monotheism vs. Radical Monotheism

Rabbinic minds have thought about the significance of Genesis in a number of different ways. For exegetes like Rashi, Genesis stresses how God is the Owner and Proprietor of the universe and, therefore, God alone has every right to give the Land of Canaan to whomever He pleases; in this case, He bequeaths it to the nation of Israel. As God’s people, Israel has a bond with the land that is eternal and irrevocable.[1] Rashi’s opening salvo was quite a remarkable comment to make at a time when Christians and Muslims were fighting for control of the Holy Land. What began long ago as an ideological struggle during the age of the Crusades continues to haunt present-day reality in the Middle East.

In contrast, some exegetes argue that Rashi’s answer to be inadequate.[2] Genesis stresses a basic theological truth, namely—God is the Author of all existence. Ramban[3] (1194–1270), as well other Judaic commentators teaches the importance of creatio ex nihilo—nothing would exist were it not for the creative power of God. Every creature and entity could not exist were it not due to the conscious act of the Divine bringing each being into existence at every moment.

Like Ramban, Rashbam[4] (ca. 1085-1158) also  supports the doctrine of creatio ex nihilo, while adding, “Do not imagine that this world you now see and experience had existed forever, for everything in the universe had an absolute beginning—that is why the Torah states from the onset: “At the beginning of the creation of the heaven and the earth . . .” (1:1). Furthermore, reasons Rashbam, the purpose of the creation narrative is to explain why the Sabbath is the cornerstone of all the Jewish holidays—a point that is emphatically stressed in the Decalogue: “Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day. . . . In six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in them; but on the seventh day he rested. That is why the LORD has blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy” (Exod. 20:8-10). By observing the Sabbath, Israel bears witness to the world that God is the sole Creator of the universe.

Among the patristic fathers, Theodoret of Cyprus (393-457) explains that after centuries of oppression and assimilation, the Israelites became religiously indistinguishable from their Egyptian masters who believed solely in a visible creation. Consequently, the Israelites had forgotten about the one and true God of their ancestors, who created the heavens and the earth. “The statement that heaven and earth and the other parts of the universe were created and the revelation that the God of the universe was their Creator provided a true doctrine of God sufficient for people of that time.”[5] Theodoret’s point is significant. From the very outset of their freedom, Moses begins re-educating his people by teaching them about the creation story. The purpose of the Sabbath thus serves to teach the people of Israel about the nature of true faith and belief in God. Maimonides later expresses a similar point. According to him, each biblical precept—in one manner or another—aims to raise humankind, as theologian David Hartman notes, “from an anthropocentric to a theocentric concept of religious life.”[6]

Karaite exegete and theologian Aharon ben Eliahu (1260-1320), sharing a somewhat similar opinion to that of Rashbam, points out that the principles of Providence and prophecy would be inconceivable were it not for the belief that God created the world. “Moses,” argues Aharon, “wished to impress upon his people that they look only to God as the Ultimate Cause of their existence.” Like Rashbam, Aharon explains that the purpose of the Creation narrative also serves to theologically reinforce the celebration of the Sabbath.

  • Genesis and the Origin of Ethical Monotheism  

R. Samuel David Luzzato (1800-1865) offers an altogether different interpretation. According to him, the opening salvo of Genesis teaches:

Now God wanted to proclaim to humankind about the unity of the world and the unity of the human race, for in error in these two matters caused many evils in ancient times. Without knowledge of the world’s unity, it followed that people believed in private gods with limitations and imperfections, and that people would do evil deeds in order to win their favor. . . . Without knowledge of the unity of the human race it followed that one people would hate and despise another and that physical force—not justice and righteousness—would rule among them. These two cardinal principles—the unity of the world and the unity of the human race—are the overall purpose in the story of Creation.[7]

S. D. Luzzato’s position is reminiscent of the early rabbinic view of 2nd century sage, R. Simon Ben Azzai, who thought that the greatest single principle one may derive from the Genesis story—or for that matter, the entire Pentateuch—is the statement in Genesis affirming that God created humankind in His Divine image (Gen. 1:26; 5:1). According to Ben Azzai, the most supreme ethical principle in the Torah is the teaching of divine equality and equity. Moreover, this principle exceeds even the famous Levitical passage, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). For Ben Azzai, respecting the divine image beginning first with oneself, and then with others ensures that society will be just and moral. To insult or harm the divine image in any of its forms is to deny the essential brotherhood and sisterhood of humankind. This is why Ben Azzai affirms that the verse affirming the Divine image is by far the most comprehensive principle of the entire Torah—the bedrock of all biblical morality.[8]

The opening chapters of Genesis thus provide the theological basis for ethical monotheism. Since all races of humankind are made in the image and likeness of God, anyone denying this principle will result in a world that is riddled with violence, tragedy, and needless suffering. One may further argue that this particular theme links together the books of Genesis and Exodus. People cannot mistreat one another with impunity, for in God’s creative order there is accountability. Humankind’s very survival depends upon mastering the forces of chaos that threaten its very survival. The same God who creates the universal laws that govern the cosmos also creates the moral law by which humanity must abide. The Decalogue at Sinai is more than a mere ethical prescription—all ethics regarding how one treats one’s fellow beings derive from the creation narrative.

  • The Dangers of Pseudo-Piety

Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin also stresses the importance of ethical monotheism that is the bedrock of the Genesis narratives. He writes:

  • The matter that is explained in the Song of Ha’azinu in the verse, ‘The Rock—how faultless are his deeds, how right all his ways! A faithful God, without deceit, how just and upright he is!’  (Deut. 32:4). The term “right” comes to justify the fairness of God’s judgement regarding the destruction of the Second Temple, a generation that can best be described as “perverse and crooked.” Although there were devout and pious people who labored in the study of Torah, they neglected to act uprightly in an ethical manner (lit. “ways of the world”). Due to the gratuitous hatred they harbored in their hearts, they lashed out against anyone they felt who lacked the “fear of God” as being either a Sadducee or a heretic. Their self-righteous attitude led to internecine strife—resulting in the Temple’s destruction. God’s judgement was truly just, for He does not tolerate self-righteous people of this sort. With respect to all ethical matters, they must walk in the proper path, and not in perversity—even if they claim that they are acting in the Name of Heaven, for in the end they were responsible for the Temple’s destruction.[9]

Berlin’s observations still resonate with our 21st century political and religious landscape. The absence of interpersonal piety is a problem that has manifested itself in a variety of fundamentalist religions of our times and no religion can claim immunity from this charge. In our own day, the insistence upon ideological purity and Pavlovian-like obedience to ecclesiastical authorities often produces the worse kind of citizen.

This is certainly the problem with the Haredi and Hassidic communities in Israel, which insist that even non-Haredi Orthodox Jews comply with their standards of modesty and personal piety. The vitriolic disdain for the Other respects no persons, not even mothers or their young children. In the name of zealotry, violence toward the Other is endorsed by many of Jerusalem’s Haredi and Hassidic leaders, as these groups attempt to expand their political and social influence. With the political ascent of Jihadist Islam (a.k.a. Radical Islam), the threat of holy war and promises of a paradisial world replete with all the sexual pleasure a young man can possibly imagine, threatens to destroy millions in Israel with sophisticated nuclear and biological weaponry. Theocracies are a lot like meat and milk; religion, like milk is fine and politics as an endeavor can also be fine–but when they are mixed, you have a toxic substance.

Here is the paradox: the love of God can function as a healing life-force, the most profound wellspring of compassion. On the flip side, the love of God  is capable of transforming itself into a diabolical death-force, capable of annihilating all life. Religious hatreds tend to be merciless, unyielding, undying, absolute, and are seemingly capable of spontaneous generation.[10]

Let us pray that ethical monotheism finds a way to triumph over its evil twin—radical monotheism, which subsists upon the hatred of the Other for its existence and power.

Continue Reading

Remember: you were once slaves in Egypt . . .

 

As we prepare ourselves for the celebration of Passover and give thought to the meaning of freedom. The Passover Hagadah brings us to an important realization: We are not merely the products of the present. In the words of the Hagadah, “And had the Holy Blessed One not taken us out of Egypt, then we, our children and grandchildren would still be slaves to Pharaoh.”

What do these words mean? Think about it . . . The events of the past impact the events of the future. Imagine how history might have changed, were it not for this seminal event of our people? There are turning points of history that forever alter the course of civilization, which creates the stage for the world we now live in.

The question of “What if?” is one of the ancient rabbi’s tools for enhancing our understanding of human history. This simple question may seem counterfactual, but the process of questioning is the vehicle that takes a past event and makes it come alive.

The question of “What if?” reveals the startling stakes that our ancestors faced in a land that disenfranchised and dehumanized them as people. This question is not the only one that the Passover Seder raises. For example, if the Israelites fail to cross the Sea of Reeds, Pharaoh and his hosts would have brought them back to Egypt where they would live out the rest of their lives serving their masters.

One event changes history. Without the Exodus, there is no revelation at Mt. Sinai. By the same token, there would be no “Promised Land,” no prophets, no Kings of Israel, no Temple, no Second Temple, no Maccabees, no Christianity, and no Islam to speak of.

How would the world look today?

Given that the plenitude of dictatorships we see in the world today, it is probably safe to presume that democracy and freedom would be rare. Scholars and rabbis may question the exact historicity of the Exodus, but there can be no question that the entire Torah is predicated upon the memory of the Exodus. For our ancestors, the experience of ill-treatment was real.

If the Israelites choose the security of slavery over the insecurity of freedom, there would never have been an Exodus. Freedom began with a choice.

And so the world changed in the twinkle of an eye . . .

Physicists and meteorologists sometimes speak about a concept known as the “butterfly effect.” According to the meteorologist Ed Lorenz, the earth’s weather systems are perfectly tuned so that even a butterfly’s stirring the air with its wings in the African jungle today will later generate consequences for the storm systems affecting Boston within a few weeks. (By the way, this same kind movement can also be applied with respect to economics, as seen this past year’s gyrations of the stock market.) The effects of the Exodus continue to reverberate over the ages—from ancient times—to the present. The mythos of the Exodus has become embedded in the collective unconscious of all peoples.

The world is still changing as a result of the Exodus. This wonderful holiday beckons all of us to fight for the freedom of all oppressed peoples.

Indeed, God’s glory becomes manifest whenever people free themselves from tyrants. Our sacred stories teach us another important lesson. God does not act unilaterally to free the Israelites from their misery. For freedom to occur there must be a Moses, an Aaron, a Miriam, a Shifra and Puah—good and brave people must take a stand.

Memory in Judaic tradition is never passive. Memory is active, dynamic, and transforming. The Passover Hagadah makes it a point to get the participants imagine themselves as if they were personally present at the original Seder. The Torah makes it a point to reiterate:

  • If your kinsman, a Hebrew man or woman, sells himself to you, he is to serve you for six years, but in the seventh year you shall dismiss him from your service, a free man. When you do so, you shall not send him away empty-handed,but shall weight him down with gifts from your flock and threshing floor and wine press, in proportion to the blessing the LORD, your God, has bestowed on you.For remember that you too were once slaves in the land of Egypt, and the LORD, your God, ransomed you. That is why I am giving you this command today (Deut. 15:12-15).
  • You shall not violate the rights of the alien or of the orphan, nor take the clothing of a widow as a pledge. For, remember, you were once slaves in Egypt, and the LORD, your God, ransomed you from there; that is why I command you to observe this rule (Deut 24:17-18)

This morning on NPR, I heard the news about Egyptian women fighting for their civil rights. After marching in the streets for more freedom (the more you have, the more you want), the military authorities arrested a large number of women. The Egyptian police took these women to a room where they had to strip. These brave young women had to undergo a “virginity test,” in front of their tormentors.

Samira Ibrahim, 25, a victim of a forced virginity test after being detained in Tahrir Square a year ago, decided to take the Egyptian authorities to court. However, a military tribunal cleared the doctor of all charges.

The Muslim Brotherhood is no friend of the Jews; they despise Western values. After listening to other dissidents who complained about being beaten and incarcerated for weeks, I wondered: Why is our government giving 1.3 billion dollars to a government that despises freedom? Our President needs to be more assertive and make it clear to the Muslim Brotherhood: All financial aid is contingent upon democratizing Egypt.

I am certain our ancestors also experienced this type of treatment in Egypt.

For us, we must do our part and fight for the freedom that the Arab peoples deserve—whether they be in Syria, Egypt, or Iran. Continue Reading

“I can resist everything but temptation”

Oscar Wilde once said: “The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it… I can resist everything but temptation.”

There’s a lot of truth to Wilde’s temptation. As human beings we often give in to many temptations without thinking about the consequences of our actions.

Lest we start feeling self-righteous and smug, there is hardly a person who cannot be compromised or broken down, provided one is confronted by the right kind of temptation.

An expose appeared in the Ma’ariv newspaper about a man named Yehuda Meshi-Zahav, Eidah Charedis’ former chief operations officer. Meshi-Zahav left his anti-Zionist roots after witnessing the aftermath of a terror attack, and founded ZAKA, the disaster response organization that has rescued countless lives in Israel and elsewhere in the world, whenever a tragedy occurred.

ZAKA’s painstaking attention to gathering all the limbs and organs of terrorist attacks is nothing less than inspiring.

ZAKA provided assistance in Thailand, Sri Lanka, India and Indonesia in the aftermath of the 2004 Indian Ocean earthquake. Their teams of forensic experts were sometimes nicknamed, “the team that sleeps with the dead” because they toiled around the clock, ministering to those who died in the tsunami. The experience of ZAKA members, who reportedly see 38 bodies a week on average in Israel, helped the Israeli forensic team to identify corpses faster than many of the other forensic teams that operated in Thailand in the aftermath of the disaster, which placed them in high demand with grieving families.

The Israeli government bestowed Meshiv-Zahav with the honor of lighting an honorary beacon on Israel’s 55th Independence Day official ceremonies on Mount Herzl in Jerusalem, the revered burial spot of modern Zionism’s founder Theodor Herzl.

So what happened? Although few of know or understand the politics of ZAKA, evidently Meshi-Zahav left the organization and started his own ZAKA organization.

Sounds pretty confusing, no?

And confusing it was. Most people did not realize there were two ZAKA organizations. He and his family raised money for the “new” ZAKA but neglected to tell his donors that his organization was different. In good faith, people all over the world sent considerable sums of money to purchase ambulances and EMT vehicles.

The Ma’ariv report alleges that Meshi-Zahav never bought any of these vehicles. It suggested that he used the money for other personal purposes. These are only allegations, and so far we have not seen a response from Meshi-Zahav. One assumes the case will be litigated in Israeli courts and we’ll learn whether Ma’ariv got its facts right.

In its account, Ma’ariv reported that the original ZAKA did not receive the donors’ money. Yet, Meshi-Zahav used the original ZAKA’s tax I.D. number. Meshi-Zahav’s ZAKA allegedly has an agreement with the original ZAKA that allows this, but Meshi-Zahav is supposed to give 40% of what his ZAKA raises after expenses to the original ZAKA. However, no money has been given to it by Meshi-Zahav’s ZAKA, according to Ma’ariv.

ZAKA is in dire financial straits. The Israeli government is trying to understand why the original ZAKA collapsed, and why millions of dollars are missing from its accounts, Ma’ariv reported. The newspaper said that Meshi-Zahav used ZAKA as a personal account for purchasing groceries and vacation trips.

A religious person in particular ought to know that the Torah teaches that freedom is not the license to do whatever one wants. In a God-centered world, it is God Who determines the boundaries between right and wrong; in a human-centered world, humans define values, and in a sense act like God.

We all face temptation. Oscar Wilde is correct to some degree. However, the solution is not to give in to caprice, but to sublimate these urges by simply saying, “No thank you . . .” Continue Reading

The Soap Merchant’s Tale

Once there was a rabbi and soap merchant who were debating the pros and cons of religion. The soap merchant said, “Frankly I really don’t see the good of religion. Observe how corrupt the world is because of religion!”  The rabbi listened and said nothing. As they were walking together, they came across a youngster that was playing in a mud puddle. The rabbi said, “My goodness, I really don’t see the value of soap, why doesn’t soap keep the mud off of him? Just look how filthy that child is!”  The soap merchant said, “But rabbi, owning soap is not going to make you clean; you must use the soap daily in order for it to be effective!”

The rabbi, replied, “So too is it with religion. It’s not good enough to simply have or own a religion—you must use it daily in order for it to be effective.” Continue Reading

Kandahar Madness: When Soldiers Lose Their Soul . . .

In his classical work on masculine spirituality, Iron John, Robert Bly notes how our contemporary society no longer provides the necessary rituals to help reintegrate warriors after a war. Unlike the ancient societies, which presented a series of complex rituals to help their soldiers make a transition to their former lives, today’s warriors have no means of making such a psychological transition to a normal life.[1]

Bly notes that in some cultures, a group of women would bare their breasts at the soldier to awaken their sense of compassion. Ritual washings in a pool of warm water often served to symbolize the renewal of the person; it helped the soldier get in touch with his essential humanity. But for today’s soldiers, there are no parades honoring the soldiers’ return from the battlefront. Nor do beautiful maidens throw golden applies to the soldiers as they celebrate their return.

“Is it any wonder,” argues Bly, “why so many Vietnam War veterans committed suicide after they arrived home? Is it any wonder why so many veterans became homeless?” Bly’s arguments speak with a great deal of force. I have personally worked with the traumatized soldiers who return, who often complain about the inner demons they face. Even now, as soldiers return from battle in Iraq, many of them suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder that has made their reintegration to society difficult. Often these soldiers return home and try to regain their lives and relationships–only to find the ghosts of their past haunting them. The wounded soldier is frequently spiritually and psychologically scarred from his experiences and memories.

When we study the rituals of war in the Torah, we also discover the purification rites that enabled individuals who became spiritually and ceremonially defiled in battle, and how they eventually became purified and spiritually renewed (cf. Num. 19 ff.). Interestingly, even before going to the battlefield, soldiers had to donate half shekel. The biblical writer notes, “When you take a census of the Israelites who are to be registered, each one, as he is enrolled, shall give the LORD a forfeit for his life, so that no plague may come upon them for being registered” (Exod. 30:12).

The verse suggests that a soul needs atonement whenever one goes out to war. Every enemy soldier has a family and wears many hats other than that of a soldier. The ritual of the half shekel reminded soldiers that killing a human being is wrong unless one is doing so in self-defense. Reasons for such a rite are obvious. War brutalizes a people. Once one sees an enemy soldier as an foe, killing becomes permitted.

But how can the act of killing not brutalize a soul–especially a sensitive soul? Even the Nazis realized that they could not command their soldiers to kill Jews as fellow human beings; but they could command them to kill the Jews “because they were not human–but were like vermin.”

There is a very moving passage in the Book of Jeremiah that provides an answer to this perplexing moral question:

“And do you seek great things for yourself? Seek them not; for, behold, I am bringing evil upon all flesh, says the LORD; but I will give you your soul as a prize of war in all places to which you may go” (Jer. 45:5). In some ways, this prophetic text serves to clarify the passage in Exodus 30:12. There is something profound in this passage. When we are engaged in a conflict such as a war, or for that manner – any kind of conflict – we must be careful not to let our soul be tainted or diminished. If you are fighting for something that is dear to you, then be careful to guard your soul, i.e. don’t let yourself sink to a level where you forget your humanity.

Remember, even an enemy soldier is not some faceless entity; always be careful even in a time of conflict never to lose your humanity.

Jeremiah’s teachings offers a sobering perspective on what happened this past week in the province of Kandahar, where an American sergeant (who had recently suffered a head-injury in Iraq) went on a wild shooting spree killing sixteen people of all ages. As a 38 year-old father of two children, one wonders whether he thought of his own small children, as he shot, killed and then burned the bodies of the village people.

Sometimes the hardest battles we fight are not on the physical battlefield, but on the emotional battlefield of life. A soldier’s struggle to hold on to his soul becomes challenging and difficult–and full of pitfalls. Singer Carole King’s song, “Just Call Out My Name,” has a stanza that really speaks on many levels about this theme:

Ain’t it good to know that you’ve got a friend
When people can be so cold
They’ll hurt you, yes, and desert you
And take your soul if you let them
Oh, but don’t you let them

Our country needs to realize that force is not always a solution to solving the world’s problems. It is one thing when a country like Israel is compelled to fight for its very survival, but the discretionary wars we have seen in Iraq and Afghanistan are very different.

We ought to ask ourselves and our leaders: At what cost shall we continue this fight?

The time has come to bring our troops home. Continue Reading

Thoughts on Idolatry and Contemporary Culture

One might wonder: Why did the Israelites worship a Golden Calf? Why does the Torah forbid the making of graven images in the Ten Commandments? For one thing, our ancestors believed graven images of a person or a god gave them power over deities and mortals alike. It seems that the Torah wished to stress that God cannot be controlled–despite the human attempt to make God cater to one’s personal needs. No graven image can hope to contain, control, and manipulate God.

Many ancient peoples had a different perception of idols from what most of us imagine. Among the more sophisticated forms of polytheism, the image meant more than a simple representation – the idols housed the deities `life-force,’ and élan vital much like the body houses the soul. Among the ancient Egyptians, the sculptor would symbolically “animate” the image by breathing into the mouth of the vessel, thereby infusing it with the deity’s life force and being. Potters still carry out this ritual create a vessel by breathing into the vessel to animate it. In a mystical sense, the idol’s image magically participates in the divinity’s existence and reality.

In some Eastern religions, many regard the image as an embodiment of the deity.  In the Hindu tradition, there is ceremony called pratishta (a term used for dedicating an newly made idol for the deity it represents) where the maker or the owner of the idol consecrates the image by inviting the deity to take up residence in the image. This idol then serves the worshiper as a locus of the deity, the focal point of his or her devotion. For others, the embodiment lasts only for the duration of the ritual, while others regard the image as a focal points for meditation on the god’s personal traits. I suspect that the Golden Calf probably served much in the same capacity for our ancestors; they wanted a visible symbol that God was dwelling among them–and that they were not alone.

The deity’s image was treated as the god himself would be treated if he were actually there in person. The Egyptian and the Mesopotamian cultists  used to awaken their deities in the morning, open the mouth, eyes, and ears,  groom them by washing or ritually purifying them, and clothe them, provide meals  and furnish sleeping arrangements.  On happy occasions, the worshipers would parade around carrying the idols with cheer, who added a sacred presence to the festivities. In ancient Egypt, Sarna notes “the statues of the monarchs are elevated to the status of independent deities and the ultimate absurdity is reached when the king is depicted worshiping his own statue.”

Modern Forms of Idolatry

In an age such as ours, our idols tend to be much more subtle, e.g., the worship of the self, material success, pleasure, status, wealth, consumerism, and so on. To paraphrase Paul Tillich, we need to focus on what religion really means, otherwise we risk turning even the wellspring of faith into an idolatrous cult.

The image continues to shape and control our individual and group imagination. Images of success, e.g., the beautiful woman wearing high-heels next to a sports-car, suggest that you–the consumer–will find greater fulfillment and sexual happiness if you purchase “our product.” Consumerism has become a religion in and of itself.

We believe in a world where everything can be fixed and made right through human resourcefulness; every predicament or human anxiety can be solved—whether scientifically or politically. Bombarded by countless images through the media, we find ourselves dazzled by the bling-bling culture of success. We live in a society that presents the world as a sea of endless resources that are available to us, with no regard to our neighbor’s needs. However, consumerism alone cannot make us “happy,” nor can its images bring us peace of mind and fulfillment.

Parodied Religion is an Idol

In the culture of consumerism, we often unconsciously bring its values to the synagogue. We find ourselves affected by its seductive values.  In modern societies, we often view prayer as a means of manipulating God to do our bidding, rather than the other way around. Protestant theologian Paul Tillich dubbed this kind of attitude as, “God, the Cosmic Bellboy.” Oftentimes, even modern people resort to magical spells as a means of controlling the deity; this is one of the reasons why I personally remain critical of Kabbalists who resort to “white magic,” e.g., arcane and bizarre Kabbalistic mumbo-jumbo as a means of getting what they want from God.

It is embarrassing–even scandalous–that religious people tend to be among the most idolatrous and superstitious of societies across the continental divide.

Who would imagine that in the 21st century, one can find advertisements for purchasing prayer notes, which are later placed in-between the stones of the Western Wall? Whatever happened to the old saying, “Dialing direct is always cheaper?”  Lubavitcher Hasidic Jews encourage people to send their prayer requests that are later read at the Rebbe’s tomb. A picture of the Rebbe is believed to save one from evil. The Kabbalah Center loves promoting the Kabbalistic Red strings, which purportedly will protect the wearer from the Evil Eye.  By the way, this product is available on Amazon.com. “Holy Rabbis” claiming mystical powers believe they can even exorcize evil spirits through Skype on the Internet. (See my other blog articles on this topic)

How does one make sense about this insanity? The ancients lived in what the astronomer Carl Sagan describes as a “demon-haunted world.” They still do. Maimonides experienced the same kind of behavior in his time as well.

Fortunately for us, God is not so easily duped.

Idolatrous Conceptions of God

Maimonides believed that distorted concepts of God could transform even a monotheistic God into a pagan idol. Francis Bacon wrote back in the 17th century, ” It were better to have no opinion of God at all, than such an opinion as is unworthy of him. For the one is unbelief, the other is contumely; and certainly superstition is the reproach of the Deity.” Once again, I can imagine Maimonides nodding his head in perfect agreement.

How true.

Just look at the Muslim Jihadists who joyfully destroy themselves and their enemies in the Name of God–what can possibly be more idolatrous than that kind of wretched behavior? Who would imagine that we would see child-sacrifice reborn in the modern age? The Jewish community also has its own share of fanatics. Sometimes the worship of rabbinical authority can be equally dangerous. The Ultra-Orthodox (known as Haredim) cynical use of politics and theocratic religion can almost flatten and dispirit an entire nation’s belief in a moral and ethical God. Just because someone  “worships God,” doesn’t mean he worships an ethical God, Who demands that he too, behave ethically. Ethical monotheism is infinitely more important than radical monotheism, which often transforms good people into monsters waiting to do God’s violent bidding.

Yes, as Maimonides noted, the forms of idolatry can be subtle and dangerous. Like a biblical prophet, Carl Sagan warns us, “I worry that, especially as the millennium edges nearer, pseudo-science and superstition will seem year by year more tempting, the siren song of unreason more sonorous and attractive.” Continue Reading

Resurrecting Dracula: The Problem of Metsita b’peh . . . (Revised 3/12/12)

For the past 2000 years, enemies of the Jews have often portrayed the Jews as leeches and vampires. Some people think Bram Stoker’s gothic novel about the blood-thirsty demon bears an uncanny resemblance to the pale-skinned Jew, who hates anything associated with the light of Christianity. Over 110 years since the Dracula novel’s first appearance, the Arab world continues depicting the Jew as a blood-sucker. One of the most popular themes in Arab cartoons is the blood-loving or blood-thirsty Jew.

What else would you expect from a society that subsists on anti-Semitism as a form of self-definition?

However, images of Jews as “leeches” and “blood-suckers” finds occasional literary expression in the United States as well. Almost a year ago, an Internet comic-book named, “Foreskin-man,”  appeared on the Internet. The cartoonist used his new character to launch a new political campaign to ban ritual circumcision in the State of California. The cartoonist had enough common sense not to attack the Muslim community, but directed his animus toward the Jewish community. The cartoonist depicts the mohel as a dark and sinister figure who loves mutilating Jewish male infants. In contrast, his protagonist, Foreskin-man is the blond-haired and blue-eyed superhero who rescues Jewish male children from the villain named, “Evil Mohel.” This fiendish ghoul delights in a ritual called, metsitsa b’peh, literally, “sucking the blood [of a baby’s penis] with one’s mouth.”

By now, many folks are probably wondering: You must be kidding me, right? No, this is not a joke. The real tragedy of this depiction is the fact that many mohels perform this ritual while paying no regard to the potential health risks.

The Mishnah discusses the sundry rituals associated with the circumcision of a young infant boy. One of the customs included “suction.” The Mishnah does not provide a clear definition what this custom means. The ancients believed that sucking the blood of a baby’s penis prevented infection and that the saliva of a person is “clean,” functioning almost like an anti-septic. Well, modern medical science has demonstrated that this folk-medicinal belief has no basis in science. In fact, sucking the baby’s penis has sometimes lead to tragic consequences.

The problem boils to down to what Tevya on Fiddler on the Roof calls, “Tradition!”  Can or should Tradition change when it is confronted by the medical and technological advances of the times? Or must we robotically perpetuate tradition for its own sake, especially because the Kabbalah has developed a mythology centering on an antiquated custom?

A two-week old boy died at a Brooklyn hospital last September after contracting herpes through a religious circumcision ritual. The unidentified infant died Sept. 28, 2011, at Maimonides Hospital, according to a spokeswoman for the city Medical Examiner, who confirmed the death after a News inquiry. The cause of death: “disseminated herpes simplex virus Type 1, complicating ritual circumcision with oral suction.”[4]

Many leading rabbis within the Haredi and Modern Orthodox community have urged the mohels to take extra-precautions when fulfilling the precept of brit milah (ritual circumcision). Several leading rabbinical authorities have offered an important alternative to the traditional sucking: using a sterilized glass tube between the wound and the mohel’s mouth avoids direct oral contact.[6]

In the past, Rabbi David Zwiebel, the head of Agudath Israel of America admitted that the Haredi leaders may have lied to their constituencies about both the dangers of metsitsa b’peh, and the city’s intent.[7] Chabad mohels have sometimes  disregarded the hygienic problems of the metsitsa b’peh ritual.[8] For people in the San Diego area, anyone wishing to use an Orthodox mohel would be wise to tell the rabbi that either he use a sterilized tube if he wishes to do the metsitsa b’peh, or else it would be far safer for the rabbi to not perform this ritual.

Ask yourself one last question: How would an anti-Semite view this story?

In the age of the Internet, as Jews, we need to avoid giving credence to images of the Jew that craves the blood of babies, thus inviting anti-Semites to exploit this antiquated tradition as a modern-day blood libel–especially when the custom results in multiple deaths.  We have more than enough enemies to deal with; must we give the tormentors of our people another reason to decry us as blood-sucking monsters? Haredi and Hassidic Jewish leaders need to recognize that the greater world community observes our behavior much more than we may realize.

It is surprising that the great anti-Semites of history did not refer to this particular custom in their blood libels. The relative scarce mentioning of this custom may give us pause to wonder how prevalent the metsitsa b’peh  in the pre-Lurianic world of the 16th century. Tradition is important, but not if it results in the death of an infant because of a Mohel’s carelessness. Combined with the health dangers associated with metsitsa b’peh, if only one child’s life is ruined or lost as a result of this custom, then we would be wise to remember the wisdom of the ancient Judaic teachers, “God created the first human being alone in order to teach us that whosoever kills a single soul is considered as though he has destroyed an entire world. By the same token, anyone who preserves a single human soul, it is as if that person sustained a whole world.” [9]

* Continue Reading

What Shmuley Boteach could have written in ‘Kosher Jesus’

Shmuley Boteach is a complicated man. At the risk of sounding obvious, Shmuley is not your typical Chabad rabbi. His past associations with singer Michael Jackson and his book on Kosher Sex have set him apart from most of his colleagues. He has a flare for the sensational and his critics say there is hardly a camera he does not like. Boteach’s ambitions vary depending upon his mood. More recently, he has even explored the possibility of running for Congress. Prior to that, he expressed interest in becoming the next Chief Rabbi of Britain.

Is the ultra-Haredi rabbinate of the British Commonwealth ready for Shmuley Boteach? Sorry, not in this incarnation.

Boteach would probably be wise and return to what he does best: teaching, writing interesting books, and appearing on the Oprah and Dr. Phil shows.

Although I have written on this topic before, there are some lingering afterthoughts I would like to share with you—the reader, especially since I have had more time to read the book for a second time.

While Boteach may seem like a radical in acknowledging Jesus as an important teacher of ancient Israel, he is not the first Orthodox rabbi to make such a claim. Boteach did not mention the 18th century savant, Rabbi Yaakob Emden (1707-1776), who is one of the first Orthodox rabbis of the modern era to praise Jesus as an innovative ethical teacher. [1] Hacham Isaac Barnays (1792-1840) [2], an early mentor of Samson Raphael Hirsch (1808-1888), went even further and considered Jesus on par with the biblical prophets. By today’s Haredi and Hassidic standards, both Emden’s and Barnays’ view of Jesus would have been considered risqué—even heretical. More recently, Rabbi Shlomo Riskin spoke glowingly about Jesus as an ancient 1st century Jewish sage. He even referred to Jesus as, “Rabbi Jesus,” but quickly retracted his earlier statement in order to quell the Haredi critics of his community and beyond.

Although Boteach briefly referred to the Historical Jesus, he chose not to explain why this subject ought to be of interest to Jews and Christians alike. There are many Christian thinkers and expositors he might have considered using, e.g., Marcus Borg, in his excellent, Jesus: A New Vision, (NY: SPCK Publishing; 2nd edition, 1994). Borg is a Christian theologian and NT scholar who has written extensively about the ethical message of Jesus and how it fits in within the context of 1st century Judaism. The Historical Jesus movement is not a 21st or 20th century phenomena; it actually has antecedents that begin in the 18th century with Hermann Samuel Reimarus (1694-1768), and later with Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826), David Freidrich Strauss (1808-1874), and Albert Schweitzer 1875-1965).

Boteach’s introduction to Kosher Jesus makes no reference whatsoever to the pioneering work of Jewish scholars like R. Pinchas Lapide (an Orthodox rabbi), Rabbi Leo Baeck (best known as the rabbi of Theresienstadt), who wrote some important books on Jesus and his relationship to Judaism, or Samuel Sandmel of Hebrew Union College. David Flusser’s excellent works are also among the most important studies on this topic. Flusser loves showing the rabbinical parallels between Jesus and the subsequent rabbis of his era. There was no need for Boteach to reinvent the wheel on how Jews have historically viewed Jesus–especially in modern times.

The study of the Book of James has become an important field of scholarly endeavor, largely because he is the brother of Jesus. Martin Luther’s disdain for the book of James is especially significant. Luther writes in his Preface to the NT that James is an “epistle of straw” because the author rejected the Pauline doctrine of “justification by faith” that is at the heart of Pauline Christianity. By referring to James’ value as “straw,” Luther wished to convey the idea that the Letter of James has no value to a Christian. Luther even argued for its removal from the NT canon because of its “Judaic” overtones.

It is a pity Boteach did not say something about James—especially in light of the  animus James and Boteach both  felt toward Paul the Apostle. According to James, good works will always mean more than the platitudes of faith espoused by Paul.

  • So also faith of itself, if it does not have works, is dead. Indeed someone might say, ‘You have faith and I have works.’   Demonstrate your faith to me without works, and I will demonstrate my faith to  you from my works. You believe that God is one. You do well. Even the Devil believes that and trembles. Do you want proof, you ignoramus, that faith without works is useless? (James 2:18-20)

Boteach might have used this passage in particular to illustrate why Paul was wrong. Obviously James was speaking about anyone who would be foolish enough to follow Paul’s “justification by faith” doctrine that subsequent Christianity accepted, hook, line and sinker. James appears to have held a position similar to the Ebionites, who categorically rejected Paul’s doctrine of the Virgin Birth, as well as his metaphysical belief in the cosmic “divinity” of Jesus that is necessary for personal salvation. Paul makes almost no reference to James, perhaps because James considered Paul a religious opportunist. From James’ perspective, Paul was a man who did not understand Jesus’s seminal message about inseparable relation between faith and ethics. In the end, James may have also felt that Paul was much better suited for a gentile audience. (Readers may want to consider watching Martin Scorsese’s 1988 film, “The Last Temptation of Christ,” for Jesus survives the crucifixion, gets married and lives a happily married life. One day he meets Paul, who preaches about the “Risen Christ.” Jesus then scolds Paul for distorting his original teachings. The film is available on Youtube.)

Although Boteach briefly touches upon the Ebionites in a quote he makes from Maccoby, he uses the latter’s argument to prove that Paul was not really a native-born Jew, but a convert. Boteach should have said more about this remarkable sect of Jews, who stood loyal to their tradition and faith, while following in the ethical steps of Jesus—the Jew. Incidentally, the Ebionites regarded the Hebrew Gospel of Matthew as the only true record of Jesus’ teachings. Most importantly, the Ebionites rejected the supersessionist claim that Christianity “replaced” Judaism. The Ebionites also rejected Paul’s attempt to eliminate the Torah’s distinction between Gentile and Jew. [2] For the Ebionites, Jesus represented the exemplar of the pious man that every human being ought to aspire toward becoming. Jesus is not the great exception, but he is a great example of the righteous person.

With all it faults and omissions, Kosher Jesus is a bold book, and its most positive feature is the fact that a Hassidic rabbi wishes to talk about Jesus in a manner that is respectful and kind. This is quite a rarity—especially when you consider the animus that most Hassidic and Haredi Jews feel toward Jesus.

Although the true believer might be shocked by this idea, Jesus’s personality bears a striking resemblance to one of the greatest Jewish spiritual teachers of the 18th century—Rabbi Israel ben Eliezer, the Baal Shem Tov (Master of the Good Name)! When one looks back in history, the Baal Shem Tov taught a very important message that many of his movement’s descendents have seemed to forgotten. Here are some his seminal teachings:

  • Ahavat HaShem—a love for God; in the theology of the Baal Shem Tov, the bond between a Jew and God Almighty is grounded in the heart of the Divine. More than that, the precept of love is   the basis of the entire Torah.
  • Harmony and peace with one’s neighbors is  essential for having a healthy relationship with God.
  • Worship of God with a joyfulness of heart enables one to achieve of mystical state of bliss with God called “devukut”   (cleaving).
  • There is no room for asceticism in the spiritual life of a Jew.
  • The Baal Shem Tov managed to upset the  scholarly elite of his era by befriending the most ignorant Jews of his community.

Jesus similarly taught:

  • The love of God is reflected in how we love  and treat our fellow man.
  • Although ritual and religious tradition are important, they cannot come at the expense of one’s interpersonal relationships.
  • Harmony with God and peace with one’s neighbor are symbiotically interconnected—you cannot have one with the   other
  • Always treat the downtrodden and marginalized  members of society with respect and love.
  • Love is the basis of the entire   Torah.
  • Acts of love and sacrifice will redeem the world.
  • Jesus also upset the Pharisees and directed most of his attention to the scattered flock of Israel.

It is a shame Boteach did explain why Jesus and Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson are examples of “failed messiahs,” i.e., messianic personalities who did not fulfill all the biblical criteria regarding the Messiah. A chapter on this subject would have added even more controversy to his book. Timidly, the author decided to stay far away from this soul-searching topic. In failing to doing so, Boteach missed an opportunity to make Kosher Jesus a more memorable book.

Shmuley Boteach may want to consider some of the ideas I have mentioned in this short book review and use them for a future revision of his Kosher Jesus. All in all I admire his courage and his willingness to talk about a subject that has remained a forbidden topic of discussion in Jewish circles of all denominations. The Chinese say, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step” and by this standard, one can argue that Shmuley’s Kosher Jesus should serve as a meaningful first step for many Jews wishing to promote a more truthful and meaningful dialogue with the Christian community. Continue Reading

Better than a thousand hollow words, is one word that brings peace

A congregant shared with me a wonderful story about his little nephew who lived in the State of Illinois. One day, his uncle was trying to teach him some Hebrew blessings.  After he taught him the blessings, he went home. A week later, he asked his nephew, “Do you remember the bracha (blessing) over bread? It goes, ‘Baruch Atah Adonai …’ Do you remember how to say the blessing?”

The little boy said, “Sure, Uncle. Here’s how it goes: I broke my toy in Illinois . . .

It’s one thing when a child makes an error, but it’s quite another matter when diplomats or leaders choose the wrong word in expressing an important communication with another government. A single gaffe can lead to a war!  Human language can be awkward at times. The terms we use to express a specific thought can alter the way others perceive our intentions.   Continue Reading