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?

==== Continue Reading

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

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

Jerusalem’s “Eliot Ness”

The 1930s are one of the most famous periods of early 20th century American history. Most of us of the baby boomer era grew up watching the Untouchables.

Chicago, 1930, is best remembered for Al Capone, America’s most successful gangster, who made organized crime into a profitable business.

Capone’s nemesis didn’t have a cape or a utility belt; nor did he fly in the air, or leap over buildings in a single bound. No, Capone’s nemesis was a brave and honest lawman. This man could not be corrupted or intimidated.

His name was Eliot Ness, and he was a real American hero.

Ness took on the Capone mob. The mob could not intimidate him, despite having made murder threats to his family. Ness succeeded in doing the impossible: he arrested Capone and broke up his gang. His crime-fighting antics were very famous. Ness’s exploits inspired one of the most successful television shows of the 1950’s—the “Untouchables.” Kevin Costner directed a movie in 1987, based on the same storyline.

After Ness arrests Capone for tax evasion, he continued fighting organized crime, catching criminals with his bare hands; Ness broadened his crusade to include labor racketeers, crooked cops and the country’s most vicious serial killer, the Mad Butcher of Kingsbury Run. Pretty amazing for a man who didn’t even have a cape!

Israel may have its own version of Eliot Ness, and his name is Maj. Gen. Niso Shaham, who is Jerusalem’s District Police Chief. Every hero has his villain, and Shaham’s enemy happens to be the evil Neturei Karta and their henchmen, known as the Sikrikim (the “dagger men,” named after the infamous thugs who led a war against Rome, resulting in the destruction of the Temple and Jerusalem in 70 C.E.)

The Ultra-Orthodox Eda Haredit hate Shaham with a passion. They showed their contempt for Shahem by showing Hitler and Shaham standing side by side. Within a relatively short period of time, the Haredi responsible for the posters got arrested.

Since last May, Shaham has brought over 100 Haredim to justice—and he’s only beginning! Some of the people he arrested ran charity scams, and like Eliot Ness, Shaham is busting “their chops!”

Almost three years ago, the Sikrikim attacked a busload of Ultra-Orthodox special needs children, which was driving down Me’ah She’arim. As I have mentioned on other occasions, not all the Haredim are bad; many of them struggle like the rest of us, who are struggling to make a living. Although the Sikrikim did not physically harm the children, they did traumatize these children.

Haredi parents complained and begged the Jerusalem Police Department to do something to protect them. Seldom do the residents ever call the Israeli police (Most of them are anti-Zionist!), but this time was different. Enough was enough!

Shaham discovered that the head of the Edah Haredit court proved to be one of the kingpins of the Sikrikim group that has been terrorizing Haredi and Modern Orthodox Jews in Me’ah She’arim and Beth Shemesh.

Shaham arrested Rabbi Yitzhak Tuvia Weiss’s personal assistant: Amram Shapira, along with the heads of the National Committee. The message could hardly have been clearer: If the Sikrikim continue their intimidation and violence, Shaham is going to arrest the head Rabbi!

The other Haredi groups, most notably—the leaders of Gur Hassidic community—like, Deputy Health Minister Yaakov Litzman and others, enjoy seeing their picture with Shaham on the neighborhood posters. For the record, the Sikrikim threatened Litzman on numerous occasions. Litzman regards Shaham as a powerful ally. 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.

Uriel da Costa: A Jewish Tragedy for the Ages

California — Whenever I read the Lubavitcher website, it seems as if we are reliving history.  The Lubavitcher lynching of Shmuley Boteach reminds me of how the 17th century Dutch Jewish community treated one of its heretical spirits and his name was Uriel da Costa (1585-1640).

Uriel was born in Portugal to a family of conversos (people who were forcibly converted to Catholicism) in the 16th century. After studying at Coimbra, he became interested in Judaism. His family fled Portugal and settled in Amsterdam, where he had hoped the Jewish community would welcome his return.

Or, so he hoped . . .

Uriel found the practices of rabbinic Judaism too rigid and mechanical as well as  at odds with the ethical message of Tanakh. In 1624, he published one of his controversial books, Examination of the Traditions of the Pharisees Compared with the Written Law, which created shockwaves throughout the Amsterdam Jewish and Christian community.

Dutch officials burned Uriel’s controversial book, and he was fined for undermining the foundations of religious faith. Although the Dutch people were reasonably tolerant toward the Jews, the Jewish community feared Uriel might endanger their welfare, so the Jewish community decided to excommunicate Uriel da Costa. Using him as a scapegoat meant the Jews of Amsterdam could remain in safety.

Uriel was expendable.

Although Uriel felt strong about his religious principles, he finally decided to acquiesce to the Orthodox Jewish authorities of his time. If his readmission meant that he would, “become an ape, to live among apes,” he would do so, “Monkey see, monkey do.”

* Shades of Nancy Sinatra!

However, Uriel soon became disillusioned with Mosaic Law altogether, and felt that all religions were “human inventions.” By 1640, the Jewish community decided to discipline Uriel. They gave him 39 lashes in the synagogue. They placed a large door over him, and the Jewish community literally walked over him, treating him as though he was dead.

Little did the community realize that he would soon be.

After he returned home, he wrote his autobiography and committed suicide.

Uriel da Costa is a tragic story about how the Jewish community alienated one of its rebellious spirits. Young Benedict de Spinoza made sure that when he wrote his famous philosophical works, he instructed his followers to publish them posthumously.

Had there been a JTS or a Hebrew Union College in Amsterdam, both of these men would have found a home for their idiosyncratic ideas of theology. Unfortunately, they lived in a rather draconian period of Jewish history, a time when people preferred to burn books and ideas, rather than confront them with better ideas.

When I read about the Chabad reactions to Shmuley Boteach’s controversial, Kosher Jesus, I shudder to think what the Jews of Crown Heights would do if they were living in the 17th century. Although they cannot “walk over him,” as they literally did with Uriel da Costa, they are verbally dismembering him before the entire Jewish and Christian world to watch in disbelief. Continue Reading

Freud’s Great Intuition: Religion as Neurosis . . .

Not all Pharisees of the Talmud are worthy of our admiration. No, this statement is not one I personally originated; this idea actually comes from the Talmud itself.

Two thousand years ago, the Jewish community had an entire class of people who delighted in such feats of piety. The Talmud heaps scorn on the religious pretentiousness of these “foolish Pharisees.”

The Jerusalem Talmud writes, “Who is a man of piety that is a fool? “He, for example, who, if a woman is drowning, says, ‘It is unseemly for me to look at her, and therefore, I cannot rescue her. . . . Who is the pious fool? He who sees a child struggling in the water, and says, ‘When I have taken off my phylacteries, I will go and save him.’ By the time he arrives to rescue him, the child has already expired. Who is the crafty scoundrel? R. Huna says, ‘He is the man who behaves leniently toward himself, while teaching others only the strictest rules.’”[1]

“Our Rabbis have taught: There are seven types of Pharisees: the ostentatious Pharisee[2], the Pharisee who knocks his feet together and walks with exaggerated humility[3], the Pharisee is one who knocks his face against the wall rather than gaze at a woman[4] The Pharisee who feigns religious piety while constantly exclaiming, ‘What is my duty that I may perform it?’”[5]

You have just returned from Memory Lane.

Imagine a Haredi convention where the great rabbis come up with their latest technological and religious innovations designed to keep men and women apart. Wait until you see the latest fashions the Haredi rabbis decreed upon their enthusiastic followers. Mind you, I am not saying that all Haredi are lunatics–however, the Belzer, Satmar, Gerer Hassidim have hundreds of thousands of lunatics following some very shady religious leaders. I did not include the Lubavitch or the Bratzlav, for both of these movements operate on a principle of ahavat Yisrael–for the most part (but not always). This is obviously a topic nobody in the Haredi world want to talk about. Like most dysfunctional families, family “secrets” are necessary to allow the dysfunction to continue.

Now, back to our subject . . .

Last year’s innovations included:

  • A  ban on mannequins.
  • The Personal Mechitza, which is a small partition Haredi Jews wear around their heads when travelling on El Al Airlines. The PM prevents Haredim from gazing at the lovely El Al Stewardesses. It comes in only one color: black.
  • Women must sit at the back of the bus!
  • How to attack Modern Orthodox girls walking to elementary school.
  • How to attack wheelchair bound children on Shabbat!
  • Rock concerts for Haredim during the Shabbat, where non-Haredim get stoned!
  • Separate sidewalks!

This year’s innovations include:

  • Use only “BLACK” rabbinically certified baby carriages!
  • Using gangs to intimidate other Haredi Jews.
  • Living like the Coneheads—special headgear for women designed to out-Taliban the Taliban burka!
  • Separate elevators for women as of 1/18/2012![6]

The Taliban are probably experiencing envy as you read this article. “Why can’t we become more religious, more fanatical like the Haredim?” asks a child to her mother.

Most of you have probably heard of OCD—Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I personally prefer identifying this acronym as, “Orthodox Compulsive Disorder.” Hey, if the shoe fits, wear it!

OCD is a very common kind of anxiety disorder. Haredi behavior makes sense when you realize that all these new “halachic” acts of piety involves ways of coping with underlying anxiety, tension, anger, and guilt.

Most modern psychologists and therapists probably are not deeply in love with Freudian psychology, but I have a pretty healthy respect for Freud’s view of religion as an obsessional type of neurosis. Unlike Jung, Frankl, Rodgers, Fromm, and others who saw religions as serving a potentially positive function in society and in the life of the individual, Freud only concerned himself with the pathological aspects of religion that constricts rather than liberates the human spirit from its shackles.

When Freud wrote “Religion as Obsessional Neurosis” in 1907, he observed how religious people suffered from an overwhelming feeling of guilt:

  • We may say that the sufferer from compulsions and prohibitions behaves as if he were dominated by a sense of guilt, of which, however, he knows nothing so that we must call it an unconscious consciousness of guilt, in spite of the apparent contradiction in terms. This sense of guilt has its source in certain early mental events, but it is constantly being revived by renewed temptations which arise whenever there is a contemporary provocation. Moreover, it occasions a lurking sense of expectant anxiety, an expectation of misfortune, which is linked, through the idea of punishment, with the internal perception of the temptation. . . [7]

Freud was right. Religion for many people is a mental disorder. Continue Reading

The Crown Heights Witch Trials (1/15/12)

Kosher Jesus Boteach book cover“[My] book is telling the Jews to reclaim Jesus, the authentic Jesus, the historical Jesus, the Jewish Jesus” and to be inspired by his “beautiful” teachings, Rabbi Shmuley Boteach said this week in Jerusalem.

Shmuley Boteach reminds me a lot of Paul the Apostle. In fact, I think a comparison of these two individuals is interesting and intriguing. Paul would have definitely been a good Lubavitcher, if he were living today. Each of them shares a penchant for getting their names out there in the community. Each of them will do just about anything to get “noticed.” There are many other comparisons, but I will save that for another blog article in the future.

For now, I will share with my readers a brief review on Shmuley Boteach’s newest book, “Kosher Jesus” (Jerusalem: Gefen, 2012) I have read a number of reviews so far; some were surprisingly positive, while others are not-so-surprisingly critical.

As a writer, I think it is important to be kind to other writers; braving your soul and ideas to the public is not for the faint of heart.

With this thought in mind, I would like to begin with the positive aspects of his book. We must be living interesting times. When a member of the Lubavitch Hassidic sect writes a book about Jesus that is actually positive, we must marvel how much the world has changed since the time of the medieval period.

Shmuley has guts—I know, because I am an ex-Chabadnik. The Lubavitcher Rebbe hated Christianity and Jesus so much; he could never even mention Jesus’ name, without referring to him as “THAT man  . . .” I understand the Rebbe’s animus; his family and community experienced the daily horrors of Russian anti-Semitism.

In the Haredi and Hassidic world, pious people save their worse curses for individuals who have historically brought great trouble to the Jewish people. Despite the thousands of talks the Rebbe gave in his life, Rabbi Schnersohn felt that Jesus was a non-person, someone whose name is best left unmentioned. “Even mentioning his name,” according to Rabbi Schnersohn, feeds the powers of impurity.”

Fortunately, we are living in more tolerant times.

Honestly, I admire Shmuley’s courage—as well as his marketing skills. I think Paul the Apostle would have been impressed. Unfortunately, nearly the entire Chabad community has chastised and eviscerated Shmuley’s reputation. I am astounded by the vast majority of Lubavitchers who have opinions on a book they have never read.

Given the large number of Jews for Jesus–100,000–Shmuley’s approach also strikes at the heart of Messianic Judaism’s Christology. Messianic Jews may rethink their relationship to Jesus after reading Shmuley’s book. Demythologizing Jesus is an important first step–otherwise, we risk losing a large number of Jews to Christianity. Shmuley mentions that according to the Talmud, there are at least two major Jesus figures.  The Jesus of the Talmud was a student of Yehoshua ben Perachia (BT Sotah, 47a), who lived about 130 years before the destruction of the Temple. The temporal distortion alone reveals that Jesus of the NT could not have been his disciple. Other early rabbinic sources such as Seder Hadorot likewise explains there were two major Jesus figures–thus what we have here is what scholars refer to as an anachronism.

Personally, I think the title, “Kosher Jesus,” is a not an appropriate title for such a book. True, it may sell more books, but Shmuley has managed to alienate a large number of people in the process–especially those who can’t get past the book’s title. Showing a picture of Jesus’s stigmata is not what any Jew–secular or Orthodox–might expect. A more modest cover and title could easily have eliminated this problem. I am more surprised at the publisher–who happens to market Orthodox Jewish books!!

Shmuley embraces the evangelical Christian community—not in the spirit of polemics, but in the spirit of genuine friendship (on a personal note, we share that value in common). Many Jews across the religious spectrum dislike and distrust Christian evangelicals. Many fear the Christian evangelical’s support of Israel is solely based on their eschatological beliefs about the “Second Coming of Jesus.” While most of us are well aware of this reality, I am more concerned how the Evangelicals bravely stood with Israelis in Israel, when the Hezbollah missiles came flying into their towns.

Incidentally, some Chabadniks actually promote interfaith activities with the evangelical churches–and that’s something to think about.[1]

Most of the ideas found in the “Kosher Jesus” reflect the ideas of the British Jewish scholar Hayam Maccoby’s works. Like other NT scholars, before and after him, Maccoby argues Jesus was an observant Jew who followed Jewish law. Jesus erred in thinking that God would supernaturally bring about the end of the Roman Empire; he hoped God would let him inaugurate the Messianic Age that was foretold by the prophets. Jesus failed in achieving these goals, ergo—he could not be the Messiah.

There exists an elitism and Chabad-centricism that saturates today’s Chabad’s anti-intellectual culture. The Rebbes of Chabad are perceived as, “infallible,” much like the Popes of Catholicism. Chabadniks have no idea how much their sect resembles Pauline Christianity of Late Antiquity. It is a shame Chabad has retained Haredi Judaism’s disdain for secular education and history. When I was a rabbinical student in Kfar Chabad, all my books on biblical archaeology were confiscated and destroyed!

Chabad rabbis rarely (if ever) refer to the writings of Rabbi Ya’akob Emden (1697–1776). Rabbi Emden is widely considered one of the most important rabbinic scholars of the 18th century, greatly respected by the Vilna Gaon. In one of his small tracts, Rabbi Emden praises Jesus in his (Seder Olam Rabbah Vezuta):

  • It is therefore a habitual saying of mine (not as a hypocritical flatterer, God forbid, for I am of the faithful believers of Israel, and I know well that the remnant of Israel will not speak falsehood, nor will their mouths contain a deceitful tongue) that the Nazarene brought about a double kindness in the world. On the one hand, he strengthened the Torah of Moses majestically, as mentioned earlier, and not one of our Sages spoke out more emphatically concerning the immutability of the Torah. And on the other hand, he did much good for the Gentiles (provided they do not turn about his intent as they please, as some foolish ones have done because they did not fully understand the intent of the authors of the Gospels. I have recently seen someone publish a book, and he had no idea about what he was writing. For if he had understood the subject, he would have kept his silence and not wasted the paper and ink. There are also found among us foolish scholars who know not their right from their left in the Written and Oral Torahs and cause the people to err with their pompous pronouncements. But there are true scholars among the Christians, just as there are the chosen few among Torah scholars; and there are few of the truly great.) by doing away with idolatry and removing the images from their midst. He obligated them with the Seven Commandments so that they should not be as the beasts of the field. He also bestowed upon them ethical ways, and in this respect he was much more stringent with them than the Torah of Moses, as is well-known. This in itself was most proper, as it is the correct way to acquire ethical practices, as the philosopher (Maimonides) mentioned. We have written similarly in our Siddur. However, it is not necessary to impose upon Jews such extreme ethical practices, since they have been obligated to the yoke of Torah, which weakens the strength of the (evil) inclination without it. They have taken the oath at Sinai and are already trained in proper practice and nature. These are clear words that will not be rejected by a clear-thinking person.

More recently, Rabbi Shlomo Rivkin also praised Jesus in a video that created some firestorms within the Haredi community. Shortly after he made his video, Rabbi Rivkin sheepishly rescinded some of his remarks because he feared the Haredim of his community.

The video begins:

  • Shalom to all. My name is Shlomo Riskin. I am the Chief rabbi of the City of Efrat…..I am an Orthodox Rabbi…and an Orthodox Rabbi who is very profoundly interested in religion in general, in Christianity, and especially in the persona of Jesus in particular…. I was truly fascinated by the personality of Jesus, whom to myself I have always referred to as “Rabbi Jesus”….because I think he is indeed a “model Rabbi” in many counts…and he lived the life of a Jewish Rabbi in Israel in a very critical time in our history…..I have constantly come back to the study of his personality and his teachings which are very strongly rooted in Talmudic teachings…..”

Chabad cannot admit it: they do not have a monopoly on Jewish thought. In the words of the 20th century Russian writer Mikhail Bahktin, their thinking is totally “monological.” It is their way—or the highway. Rather than providing coherent reasons why Shmuley’s book is wrong, they would rather, “crucify” him instead, through nasty ad hominem attacks—which can be read at http://collive.com/show_news.rtx?id=18125&alias=shmuley-boteach-blasts-collive.

It is even more appalling to observe how the Crown Heights Chabad community is attempting to tar and feather Rabbi Chaim Miller, author of the Gutnick Chumash, for being Shmuley’s good friend.

The behavior of Hasidim in Crown Heights is a really shanda. They behave as if we are living in the Dark Ages. The Jewish world needs heretical spirits to wake it up from its stodginess and intellectual lethargy.

Kudos go to you Shmuley–for challenging antiquated attitudes that belong in the dustbin of history.

And so the Lubavitcher Witch hunt begins . . . I wonder how many bodies will they pile up?

Shmuley, take some good advice: Next time you write a book about Jesus, will you try to remember writing something about the Prodigal Son? (Sorry, Shmuley, I could not resist the humor in this statement.) Actually, the theme of this lovely parable has been often utilized by many Hassidic Rebbes, despite their ignorance of the original source.

Shmuley is a fine ambassador to the general community, but do not expect him to be something he is not—a New Testament biblical scholar. His book has value if you like something that is not too intellectually challenging. His criticisms of Pauline Christianity are very important and Chabadnicks would be wise to familiarize themselves with his arguments. If nothing else, it is nice to see one well (maybe I should really say, “ex”)-respected Lubavitcher break with the anti-Christian attitudes of the movement that spawned him.

However, if you want to read something much more historically intriguing and exciting, buy yourself a copy of the “The Jewish Annotated New Testament,” which is now available.  This slim volume is a study edition of the NSRV translation of the New Testament with commentary and essays by Jewish Biblical scholars (including Jewish New Testament scholars) such as Marc Zvi Brettler, Amy-Jill Levine, Daniel Boyarin, and Mark Nanos. The scholars attempt to understand the NT from a respectful Jewish perspective. Such a work would hardly have been possible a few centuries ago. Fortunately, countless numbers of Christian scholars are now studying Talmud and other Judaic texts to better understand the life of Jesus as a Jew.

Another great book is Geza Vermes’ outstanding book, “Jesus the Jew: A Historian’s Reading of the Gospels” (Oxford, 1973).  Vermes is a Holocaust survivor who converted to Catholicism, and later returned to Judaism. His perspective is scholarly, and very important for modern Jews who wish to really understand the unique message of Jesus  during the days of the  Second Temple. For a Christian perspective that examines Jesus in non-supernatural context, check out Marcus Borg’s outstanding, “Jesus: A New Vision” (NY: Harper Collins, 1991).

* Continue Reading

Defining “The Great Commandment” — An Ancient Debate

It’s a pity many Hasidic Jews do not study or take to heart the Ba’al Shem Tov’s ethical message about loving one’s neighbor as oneself. It’s also a pity when outstanding Lithuanian scholars don’t live by the ethical imperatives found in the Talmud and Midrashic literature.

The ancient Sages of Israel often debated about the ethical hierarchy of precepts. Such debates existed even in the first century. In the NT, a Pharisee asks Jesus:

  • “Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?” He said to him, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”[1]

In the Halachic midrashim of the second century, the early Sages also occupied themselves with similar questions.  They asked: What is the most fundamental ethical principle of the Torah? Rabbi Akiba derives his ethos from the verse, “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). Ben Azzai differs: “Do not say, ‘Since I have already been put to shame, it does not matter to me, whether somebody shamed my neighbor!’ “Not so,” says Ben Azai, “Shaming is wrong, for God has made every person in his likeness.”

Put in more contemporary terms: Self-respect begins with realizing the unique image of God that each human being possesses. Recognizing this ethical reality holds the key to recognizing this quality in others. Even when someone shames you, such disparaging treatment does not entitle you to reciprocate in kind—even in the face of provocation. All forms of human degradation harm the divine image, while denying the essential brotherhood and sisterhood of humankind. Affirming the Divine image is by far the most comprehensive principle of the entire Torah—it is the essence of all biblical morality.[2]

For R. Akiba, love is the highest value for interpersonal relationships. However, for Ben Azzai, human society depends upon respecting the divine image in oneself and others. Without this principle, how will the human community survive? Elsewhere, Ben Azzai extols the uniqueness of the human individual, “Do not despise any human being and do not consider anything as improbable—for there is not a man who does not have his hour, and there is not a thing which does not have its place.”[3]  There is no human being in this world that does not have the capacity for excellence and spiritual growth.

Going one step further, there is a rabbinic poignant story which deepens this point of Ben Azzai:

  • Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar had returned from a trip in Migdal Eder, from his teacher’s house. As he was riding on his horse, he met a certain man who was exceedingly ugly. Rabbi Shimon said to him, “Raka (simpleton), how ugly are the children of Abraham our father.” The other man replied, “There is nothing I can do about this! Why do you not complain to the Craftsman who made me?” Rabbi Shimon immediately alighted from his horse and bowed before the man saying, “I apologize to you, please forgive me.” He replies to him, “I will not forgive you until you go to the Craftsman Who made me and say, “How ugly is the vessel which You have made.” Rabbi Shimon walks behind him for three miles. When the townspeople heard of Rabbi Shimon’s arrival, they came out and met him; they greeted him with the words, “Peace be unto you, rabbi.” The other man says to them, “Who are you calling rabbi?” They reply, “The man who is walking behind you.” He then exclaims, “If this man is a ‘rabbi,’ I sure hope he is the last of his kind in Israel!” He told the people the whole story, and the townspeople begged him to forgive the rabbi, and he agrees, only on one condition—he must never act in this manner toward anyone again.[4]

As is the case with so many of the rabbinic anecdotes dealing with ethics and human nature, this story is a good example of how the Jewish community understood the image of God in practical and ethical terms. According to R. Abraham Isaac Kook, the love of humankind and God are insuperably related. One cannot love God and hate His creation.  According to Kook, the love of humankind must transcend the narrow confines of tribal loyalty; it is all-inclusive of every religious and ethnic grouping. In Kook’s description, one sees the complete synthesis of Ben Azzai and R. Akiba:

  • Love for humankind must be alive in one’s heart and soul—love for each individual separately, and love for all nations, [together with] desire for their advancement and for their spiritual and material progress—… an inner love from the depths of one’s heart and soul, to be beneficent to all nations, to add to their material wealth, and to increase their happiness.…The highest form of love for all creatures is love for human beings, and it must include all people . . .For only when one is infused with love for God’s creatures and all humankind can one elevate love of country to its most noble level, both spiritually and materially. Narrow-mindedness, which results in seeing everything outside the boundaries of one’s own country—even if that country is Israel—as repulsive and unclean, is extremely contemptible; it leads to wide destruction of every valuable spiritual resource to which every decent person looks for enlightenment. [5]

 


Notes:

[1] NT. Matthew 22:36-40.

[2] Sifra, Kedoshim 4:12. In Genesis Rabba 24:7, the order is reversed, but there can be little doubt that the Sifra represents the older of the two traditions.

[3] Mishnah Aboth 4:3.

[4]  Tractate Derech Eretz  (Chapter 4).

[5] Cited from M. Elon, Jewish Law: History, Sources,Principles = Ha-mishpat ha-Ivri (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1994), Vol. 3, 1852.

A Maimonidean Prescription for Haredi Behavior

Badatz Yerushalayim logo

One of my congregants asked a recent synagogue class, “How can we try to be respectful and understanding of the ultra-Orthodox when they are at the forefront of hostile activities like rioting at places which are open on Shabbat and more recently, vandalizing a girls’ school in Bet Shemesh because it bordered their neighborhood?”

The short answer is simple: Everybody deserves respect, provided one acts in a manner that is respectful. Since the Haredim do not behave in a manner that is respectful, they need to change and improve their behavior to win our respect back.

They may want to start the process of healing  by following Maimonides’ prescription for repentance. The first step is an acknowledgement of responsibility and fault. The second step involves a change in behavior for the better–no more attacks on innocents. The third step requires restitution to the city and school property, which were damaged. Arresting and incarcerating those responsible for the violence might also be included in this step. Forgiveness comes only in the end when all the other steps have been carried out to fruition.

Platitudes and empty promises mean nothing. Without a change in behavior, they are analogous to Maimonides’s example of the individual who immerses himself in the mikveh, while holding on to a rat–the symbol of ritual defilement. Immersion means nothing so long as the individual is still holding on to dysfunctional attitudes and deeds. [2]

Some law-abiding Haredim in Israel find their cohorts’ religious behavior embarrassing. Yet, despite the condemnations we have heard from the leading Chief Rabbis of Israel, we have yet to hear a universal condemnation from all of the Haredi scholars and leaders—and this attitude is most disturbing. Some have even done the opposite!

Eidah Haredit [the Haredi ecclesiastical authority of Jerusalem]released a  letter earlier this week, “The arrests of violent Haredim who attacked police, women and girls is yet another chapter in the worst of all the exiles, the one imposed by the evil State of Israel . . . they harbor a deep jealousy for those who fear God . . .who serve God in truth and purity . . .”

Houston, we’ve got a problem . . .

How can constructive change occur if the leaders of the Haredi deny all responsibility? Not only do they enable poor behavior by saying nothing, many of them have even actively encouraged violent behavior.

How can constructive change occur if the leaders of the Haredi deny all responsibility? Not only do they enable poor behavior by saying nothing, many of them have even actively encouraged violent behavior. The ancient Chinese philosopher Confucius said, “When a man in his own person is guilty of doing evil, a superior man will not associate with him” (Analects 7:1). Jewish tradition has similar teachings, “You shall not join hands with the wicked to act as a malicious witness” (Exod. 23:1); “I hate the company of evildoers, and will not sit with the wicked” (Ps 26:5).  The Sages sum up this idea well, “‘Woe to the wicked and woe to his neighbor!’  (Numbers Rabbah 3:12). A person is judged by the company one keeps.

We seem to be reliving a chaotic period of Jewish history, “In those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did what he thought best” (Judges 21:25).

======

[1] MT Hilchot Teshuvah 1:1

[2] Ibid., 2:3.