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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The 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

Did King David Really Sin with Bathsheba?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Abortion as an Ethical Dilemma 2/3

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

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

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

The verse may be interpreted in a two ways:

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

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

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

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

Abortion as an Ethical Dilemma 1/3

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

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

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

Ancient Discussions

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

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

ἐὰν δὲ ἐξεικονισμένον ἦν δώσει ψυχὴν ἀντὶ ψυχῆς

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Back to the Future: Contemporary Perspectives

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Continue Reading

A Portrait of Moses

After the wonderful exodus of the Israelites from Egypt, a king of Arabia sent an artist to Moses, to paint his portrait, that he might always have the likeness of the divine man before him. The painter returns with his handiwork before the King.

The King proudly displays the picture and asks his wise men to comment on the artistic work of Moses. What did the picture reveal? The artist depicts an evil looking man, disfigured by all the worse possible human attributes. The wise men said, “This looks like haughty, sensual, and evil man.” They added, “But the picture is still a masterpiece!”

“What a cheap consolation,” exclaimed the King, “How can I show it to Moses?” Feeling frustrated, the King of Arabia went to Moses and apologizes to him for showing such a disrespectful portrait.

Moses replies “Don’t be upset! Your artist and your experts alike are truly gifted masters. Their depiction is accurate. However, if my fine qualities were a product of nature, I would be no better than a log of wood, which remains forever as nature originally produced it.

He continued, “Let the truth be told, I must confess, I truly possessed all those reprehensible traits your wise men read in my picture and ascribed to me. They were more accurate than they could have possibly realized! However, over time I have learned to master my evil impulses, and I eventually learned to replace these evil habits with good habits so that I would finally become a new human being—Through these changes, and lots of hard work, I have become a respectable and commendable human being in the eyes of mortals as well as well as in heaven.”

This old medieval legend teaches us an important truth:  Each of us has qualities we may not be proud of possessing. However, nobody is born a saint. Besides, every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.

Redemption begins with facing our own inner darkness, which Carl G. Jung identifies as the “shadow.” Shadow defined by Jung, the archetype of the “shadow” represents the hidden or unconscious aspects of oneself—both good and bad—which the ego either represses or never recognizes, as he notes: “The shadow is the thing a person has no wish to be.”[1] The more unaware we are about this darker and amoral side, the less likely we will mindfully confront and change our inner nature.[2] To become self-aware, it is imperative that each of us find a way to integrate our “shadow” nature. This spiritual and psychological task is not without its challenges and difficulties, as Jung explains further:

“The shadow is a moral problem that challenges the whole ego-personality, for no one can become conscious of the shadow without considerable moral effort. To become conscious of it involves recognizing the darker aspects of the personality as present and real. This act is the real existential condition for any kind of self-knowledge, and therefore, as a rule, meets with considerable resistance.“[3]

Awareness of these internal psychological forces can enable a person to be deliberate in thought, word, and deed, while unawareness of the shadow can often lead to the scapegoating of others. Shadow projections are among some of the most pernicious attitudes evident in many social and racial biases. Misogyny, for example, is due to a man’s refusal to recognize his own inner feminine nature that yearns for a conscious expression. The same dynamic is present in any kind of social prejudice.

Conversely, it would be a mistake to identify the shadow with forces of evil; the shadow reflects the underdeveloped good that has yet to become fully realized and conscious. There is another element of the shadow that represents the repressed goodness each of us has which yearns to emerge into consciousness.[4] Jung refers to this presence of the psyche as the “Golden Shadow.” This manifestation of the psyche is always present in the heroes and heroines of the Genesis story. God refuses to give up on His chosen ones; Divine creativity turns inward, the human spirit is a work in progress. Jung explains further: “The shadow is not, however, only the dark underside of the personality. It also consists of instincts, abilities, and positive moral qualities that have either long been buried or have never been conscious. The shadow is merely somewhat inferior, primitive, unadapted, and awkward; not wholly bad. It even contains childish or primitive qualities which would in a way vitalize and embellish human existence, but—convention forbids!”[5]

Admitting that the shadow exists is a crucial step in breaking its compulsive hold on the individual. One of the best illustrations of this in the book of Genesis is the story of Jacob, a man who is in every sense a creature fashioned from the forces of Creation itself—light and darkness commingled as one. As a young man, Jacob feels spiritual yearnings within his heart, but acts ruthlessly in achieving his goals. Jacob’s transformation occurs once he becomes consciously aware of what he has been, and chooses to become something altogether different. By developing an awareness of his spiritual center, Jacob finally learns to shed the fears that commandeer his soul and discovers an inner center of peace. He discovers that blessings can only be obtained through just and honest means—without fanfare or manipulation. Continue Reading

The Symbolism of Forty

“I will send rain on the earth for forty days and forty nights.” —(Gen. 7:4)

Forty  is a portentous number, for it represents the fullness of time. In general, it is usually a round number or estimation more so than an actual precise chronological measurement of time. As the medium of purification in the Torah, water has a unique power in that it can dissolve all the sundry forms it encompasses. In the realm of ritual, the waters of purification determine a new status, hence a new creation. Rabbinic literature develops this concept concerning the various laws pertaining to ritual purification and conversion.

In the Mishnah, for example, the waters of the mikvah (a “ritual bath”) must contain 40 se’ah (approximately 120 gallons) of water—the amount that is necessary to completely cover the human body as it undergoes ritual purification.[1] Ritual immersion represents a symbolic death for the person undergoing ritual. Upon arising, s/he becomes like a new person, as indicated by the Talmudic dictum, “Anyone who has become a proselyte is likened to a newborn baby.”[2]

Ritual immersion always introduces a change in status. For a priest, immersion enables him to eat from the priestly tithes; for the leper, immersion terminates his ceremonially impure  status and facilitates his reintegrate to the community. In the same manner, the Flood lasted for 40 days and 40 nights and served as a means of purifying and purging the world of the violence that had infected it.[3]

Throughout the Tanakh and much of early rabbinic tradition, the number 40 is also associated with dramatic change, upheaval,[4] judgment [5] , hardship, affliction and censure, temptation and punishment, probation, [6] purification, forgiveness,[7] wisdom,[8] redemptive rescuing (as evidenced here) and finally, revelation.[9] The Jewish mystical tradition also sees a profound relationship among all these seemingly disparate nuances associated with the number.

On a psychological level, the number 40 seems to suggest that it is only when we are most broken and humbled we become spiritually open and receptive to God’s revelation and promise of renewal. From a Jungian perspective, 40 also corresponds to the period of life commonly known as midlife, when one often experiences turbulent changes as one comes to grips with mortality and the meaning of human existence. At midlife, that is when we start asking the great questions–even now as we wade our way through the current economic deluge our country is experiencing. Use this time to rediscover the real “You.” 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

Dancing with Wolves: Shmuely Boteach and His Lubavitcher Critics

I could not help but read the Chabad reaction to Shmuley Boteach’s new book, Kosher Jesus. Most of us, who have no inner access to the Chabad inner circle, might be surprised by the ferocity of the Lubavitchers’ reactions.

Rabbi Yitzchok Wolf, Dean of SJ Abrams Cheder Lubavitch Hebrew Day School in Chicago, wrote a scathing attack on Boteach’s book, even though he did not bother reading it. Wolf writes, “With utter contempt I have read the title of Shmuely Boteach’s new book ‘Kosher [Yoshke].’” Note that “Yoshke” is the contemptuous name Hasidic Jews give to Jesus.

Wolf goes on to say, “This book is telling the Jews to reclaim J…, the authentic J…, the historical J…, the Jewish J….” and to be inspired by his “beautiful” teachings, as this author and TV show host told Ha’aretz this week in Jerusalem. This book poses great danger to thousands of unsuspecting Jews who are approached daily by Jews for J with the sole purpose of getting them to embrace Christianity. To Jews for J this book will now become the Jewish Rabbinical textbook urging embracing Yoshke as an authentic Jew, urging us to be inspired by him, G-d forbid.”

My old Professor Lewis Rambo (no relation to Sylvester Stallone) once explained how closed societies build a force field around their communities; contact with undesirable people or thinkers are in a manner of speaking, quarantined. Since Boteach’s days at the Chabad House of Oxford, G.B., Chabad has always viewed Boteach with suspicion. After all, what kind of Chabadnik writes articles for Playboy Magazine, or associates with people like Michael Jackson?

The other reactions from the Lubavitcher community are laced with criticism. “Thank you for saying what nobody seems to have the courage to say…” Another person writes, “Thank you Rabbi Wolf, it is refreshing to see a Shliach [Lubavitcher emissary] who is not afraid of what others will think, and not afraid to say the truth… The silence is deafening . . . we should be hearing an outcry”

Reacting to Wolf’s condemnation of Kosher Jesus, one man writes, “This is quite possibly the most judgmental, disparaging, close minded statement EVER made on this site. It’s obscene and unheard of to not only “judge’ but condemn a book by its cover.”

Then again, the critic cites Wolf, “There is absolutely no need to read the actual content of the book; the title will do more harm than imaginable, Heaven forbid!!

The condemnations get even more interesting:

  • I  just read the Ha’aretz article and comments—what Boteach has done is a complete Chillul HaShem. He has no Rav, no Mashpia and clearly suffers from delusions of grandeur and messianic complex. I used to like Shmuely until I was in Israel and turned on the television in my hotel room to discover him on his show with a women who had been recently widowed and he COULDN’T STOP HUGGING HER. He decided that shomer nagiah no longer applies to him. To me, that was the beginning of the end. We cannot trust anything he says or does. Will the frum world put him in Cherem? We must take action to stop this ego maniacal monster. He is rewriting our holy Torah.

Another reader argues that public condemnations of Boteach’s book are actually helping Boteach sell more books! He writes:

  • Rabbi Wolf, how much did Shmuely pay you to make this most horrendous statement? Nothing sells books like controversy. You noticed the title (don’t judge a book by its cover) and what was written second hand. Had you a least gone to Amazon and read the table of contents, you would have seen a major section of the book is “WHY JEWS CAN’T BELIEVE IN J.”Seems you have been duped.

One person makes an observation that I completely endorse.

  • Rabbi Boteach’s book shows that Yushke wanted people to keep Halacha completely and shows that Yushke did not think he was a god, and that the Christians rewrote his life story and lied about him. There are 100,000 Jews who have converted to Christianity in America and no one is successfully doing anything to reach out to them and bring them back to torah. This book could help them return to Yiddishkeit. This book {shows}Christianity is a lie and is a very good tool in anti missionary work.

This particular respondent hits the nail on its head. Boteach has taken a bold step in trying to reach out to the Messianic Jewish community, in an effort to raise some cognitive dissonance among its ranks.

Personally, I have engaged a number of “Jews for Jesus” in discussion with the sole purpose of showing them how and why the Jesus of Christianity is the creation of Paul and the Early Church Fathers. Historically, Jesus’s brother James, felt nothing but contempt for Paul. In his view, Paul transformed Jesus into something that was totally alien to Jesus’s overall message. Once I have demonstrated James’ negative opinion of Paul the Apostle, a fair number of the Jews for Jesus have abandoned their cult, and I have helped many of them return to Judaism. In the controversial 1988 film, The Last Temptation of Jesus Christ, producer Martin Scorsese (a Catholic), took quite a bit of heat from the Christian world when he portrayed Jesus as a sensuous man, who marries Mary Magdalene, raises a huge family and lives a full life.

True to my contrarian nature, I argued that the real heresy is when Jesus in a vision (produced by Satan himself), hears Paul the Apostle preaching about the miracle of Jesus’ resurrection; Jesus discovers that his mother was a virgin, while he is  “son of God.” Jesus confronts Paul, and asks him, “Did you ever see this ‘Jesus of Nazareth?’  Paul sheepishly admits, all he saw was the blinding white light on his way to Damascus.

Jesus then reveals his identity to Paul. Bluntly, Jesus asks, “Why are you promoting this nonsense about me ‘rising from the dead’ ?  . . . I live a normal and happy life for the first time . . .” and he threatened to expose Paul for the fraud he was.  Paul basically admits that he made up the story because people need someone to believe in and that he was willing to make up just about anything so that people would believe in something that would give purpose to their lives.  Striking is Paul’s comment, “I will crucify you and resurrect you if I have to. . .  The Jesus Christ I believe in is greater than you . . .”

It is a pity Shmuely does not refer to the Last Temptation. It’s a greater pity Shmuely didn’t write an entire chapter about James, Jesus’s brother. Unlike Paul, who believes a man is saved by faith alone, James differs; he is concerned about the primacy of deeds; behavior reflects one’s true values and faith more so than all the platitudes about faith. No man can be “saved” by faith alone—as Paul taught, but each man can gain Eternity through living an ethical life that includes integrity and compassion. When reading the book of James, we can better understand Jesus’s real message. It is a pity the Early Church did not name itself, “Paulanity,” instead of “Christianity.” Paul alienated the Jewish community from Jesus more than anyone else. Boteach seems to share this position as well. It is a pity that Lubavitchers are not looking at the total picture here.

Lubavitchers do not want to know anything about Jesus. For them, Jesus is the reason why so many Jews have died throughout for almost 2000 years. The Rebbe and his followers would rather hold on to a medieval mindset and ignore the facts that contradict rabbinic opinions found in the Talmud and Maimonides.

Modern NT scholars have shown that the historical Jesus is not the same as the Jesus of Paul and the Early Church. The Jesus Seminar scholars have done a fabulous job showing the evolution of the NT and how the New Testament assumed its present form.

If Jesus were to appear today, he would scarcely recognize the religion that has arisen in his name. In all likelihood, he would attend a synagogue for Shabbat services and conduct himself like a religious Jew—and not a Christian. Continue Reading