Category: Community

Shemini: A Path to Follow

“And Moses said to Aaron and to his sons Eleazar and Ithamar, “Do not bare your heads [rasheichem al-tifra’u] and do not rend your clothes, lest you die and anger strike the whole community. But your kin, all the house of Israel, shall bewail the burning that [YHVH] has wrought.” — Leviticus/Vayikra 10:6 (TWC translation*)

Commentary from Onkelos:* The entire house of Israel, may mourn. This teaches that when Torah scholars have difficulties, their problems are a burden for the entire community, who are expected to grieve over their distress (Rashi based on the Babylon Talmud, Moed Katan 25a)


from Stone Chumash:* The entire house of Israel. The Sages derive from this verse that the suffering of a talmid chacham [a Torah scholar, in this case, the grieving Aaron and his sons] should be shared by all Israel (Rashi).</p?

True, a Jew should try to accept God’s justice with faith that it is for the best — as Aaron did and as his sons were commanded to do — but other people should mourn and grieve over the misfortunes of a fellow Jew (R’ Shlomo Kluger)

All Are (Like) Kin?

I have not studied the Talmud* section cited above, but I see that it includes a discussion of whether “all are kin” or “all are like kin” to Torah scholars. This, I think, is one fascinating path raised by this week’s text:

What is our kinship to Torah scholars?

How does that apply in a community of egalitarian learning/teaching?

For the rabbis of the Talmud, was “Torah scholar” code for “one of us”?

And, if so, what is the implication for other communities, whatever the level of “scholarship” of each individual in the community?

What is the nature of communal grieving?

Do we ever grieve instead of our scholars or leaders, i.e., while they cannot grieve, perhaps for reasons to do with their leadership roles? How?

Are there other ways in which “their problems are a burden for the entire community”?

Bitter Water and Loosened Hair

A bit further in the discussion (25b) appears what strikes me as an unusually poetic quote attributed to Raba:

When more than ‘a third” wadeth in water deep
Remember the covenant and mercy keep
We strayed from thee as a wayward wife
Leave us not: as at Marah, save our life.

Footnotes reference Numbers/Bamidbar 5:22 (“the Sotah”), wherein the suspected wife is given bitter water to drink. This I find fascinating in part because the sotah’s hair is unloosed, using the same verb which is so awkwardly, and variously, translated into English:

“And Moses said to Aaron and to his sons, Eleazar and Ithamar, ‘Do not bare your heads [rasheichem al-tifra’u]…'” (JPS)

“…’Do not let your hair grow long [rasheichem al-tifra’u]…'” (Onkelos)

“…’Your heads, do not bare [rasheichem al-tifra’u]…'” (Fox)

“…’Your heads, you shall not dishevel [rasheichem al-tifra’u]…'” (Alter)

What is the relationship between loose hair and mourning?

What is the relationship between loose hair, mourning and bitter water?

We at least think we know what “arm” or “hand” mean, metaphorically, when they appear in the Torah as God-parts. But what does “hair” mean in this context?

Is hair simply a vehicle for describing age? See, for example, p.247 in The Many Faces of God: A modern reader of theologies. Or does hair represent something else or something more?

I don’t know — haven’t been far enough down this path — but it looks worth exploring.

*Please see Source Materials for full citations, on-line source links and additional information.

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The “Opening the Book” series was originally presented in cooperation with the independent, cross-community Jewish Study Center and with Kol Isha, an open group that for many years pursued spirituality from a woman’s perspective at Temple Micah (Reform). “A Song Every Day” is an independent blog, however, and all views, mistakes, etc. are the author’s.

Vayikra: Great Source(s)

By allowing laypersons to make their own sacrifices, under the auspices of the priests, the sacrificial laws gave people a degree of control over their spiritual lives. Inviting people into the sanctuary for the sacrifice, people felt themselves personally invited into God’s earthly home.

In essence, the system of sacrifice provided a metaphor, a method, for the Israelites to reach God, responding to the deep psychological, emotional, and religious needs of the people. Indeed, this is the meaning of the Hebrew word for “sacrifice”; it comes from a verb meaning “to bring near.”

…[Regarding contemporary animal rights concerns:] First, according to the Bible, the life of the animal was its blood (Gen 9:4). Out of respect for that life force, all biblical sources agree that it was forbidden to imbibe blood. …[one] had to return the blood to God, its divine creator, by offering the blood of sacrificial animals on the altar….

In what may seem like an ironic twist, then, these and other dietary rules are founded on the sanctity and inviolability of life. In this way, the sacrificial laws exemplify one of the most exciting characteristics of the book of Leviticus: behind the seeming arcane rituals lies a system of meaning that we can draw into our own, modern lives.
–Jacob Milgrom, Leviticus: A Book of Ritual and Ethics, pp17-18

Milgrom, Jacob. Leviticus: A Book of Ritual and Ethics. Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 2004.

Milgrom’s book and those below provide historical and anthropological perspectives on the book of Leviticus. While academic and detailed, they can help provide some orientation for what can seem a very foreign territory: the sacrificial system.

For a different sort of orientation see “The Rationale of the Sacrifices,” from Nehama Leibovitz.

Academic Works on Leviticus

Purity and Danger. Douglas, Mary. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1966. In this classic of anthropology, we learn: “Defilement is never an isolated event. It cannot occur except in a systematic ordering of ideas.” Much of the frequently referenced chapter, “The Abominations of Leviticus,” is available at Google Books. Douglas has also written other works on Leviticus and the sacrificial system.

Reading Leviticus: A Conversation with Mary Douglas. Sawyer, John F.A., ed. Sheffield, England: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996. Includes one response from another scholar, following each main paper, and subsequent discussion.

Golden Bells and Pomegranates. Visotzky, Burton L. Tuebingen, Germany: Mohr Siebeck, 2003. A study of the 5th Century CE commentary, Leviticus Rabbah.

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The “Opening the Book” series was originally presented in cooperation with the independent, cross-community Jewish Study Center and with Kol Isha, an open group that for many years pursued spirituality from a woman’s perspective at Temple Micah (Reform). “A Song Every Day” is an independent blog, however, and all views, mistakes, etc. are the author’s.
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Is Thanks Ever Simple?-part 1

Or: Don’t think of a Green Hippo!

Recently, the leader of Fabrangen West‘s Birkot Ha-Shachar/Psukei D’Zimra [Morning Blessings and Verses of Song] introduced the service by asking that we consider the pshat [literal meaning] of the prayers. She mentioned a common tendency to hear (or speak) a negative edge to even the most positive sounding statements.

Everyone present seemed to recognize the tendency we were being asked to avoid. I think most of us have witnessed — if not played both roles, at various points in our lives — exchanges that goes something like this:

“That’s a nice shirt [lovely street, informative graphic].”
“What’s wrong with these pants [this neighborhood, the rest of the report]?”

Moreover, one participant explained a parallel version to her young son: “You know how ‘thanks for cleaning your room,’ might also mean, ‘How come you don’t do that more often?’ even if the mom doesn’t say that?”

And after more than a week of struggling with record- and back-breaking snowfalls, I know some of us were following “How wonderful are your works!” with a muttered, “Wonderful, sure! But don’t ‘Your works’ come in smaller packages?” Conversely, one is reminded of Tevye’s plaintive, “I know you look after all our needs… but would it spoil some vast eternal plan, if I were a wealthy man?”

Pshat Prayer

So, I thought the assignment to focus on the various expressions of thanks and praise in the service, trying to avoid hearing or speaking any hidden negatives, seemed appropriate. A reasonable, even simple, request.

And, with that kavanah [intention], I’m pretty sure that I managed relatively unadulterated gratitude for the first blessing: “Blessed are You, Adonai, Our God, Ruler of the Universe, You have given me understanding to see differences clearly, as between day and night.”

But, then I must have entered some sort of don’t-think-of-a-green-hippo state, as we continued reciting blessings:

“…she-asani b’tzalmo” [made in Your image] — “in Your image, with unlimited potential”* — “Well, really, I’m doing as much as I can right now!”

“…bat chorin” [free] — “free, with the ability to choose”* — “You got a problem with my choices?”

“…pokeiach ivrim” [open the eyes of the blind] — “…providing sight and insight”* — “I do SO recognize other people’s perspectives.”

…and on it went. I was failing seriously at this “pshat prayer.” It was an interesting, if somewhat disturbing, experimental result for me — but it wasn’t exactly the (simple) thanks our service leader had urged.

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* We use Siddur Eit Ratzon, so these English formulations are Joseph Rosenstein’s.
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Obliged to Thank

Then we came to the verse that begins “L’fichach anachnu chayyvim, l’hodot l’cha…” It’s usually translated as something like, “Therefore we are obliged to (acknowledge and) thank You…” (e.g., Sim Shalom, Metsuda, My People’s Prayerbook**).

Therefore we are obliged.…”That explains it,” I thought: Feeling obligated just isn’t consistent with simple anything — including thanks — for me, anyway. So, regardless of prayerbook contents — BTW, Kol Haneshamah and Mishkan T’filah,** e.g., don’t include this verse or the related paragraphs — maybe the awareness of obligation was making (simple) thanks impossible for me.

With this newly confused kavanah — aiming for simple thanks, which is maybe not possible in a relationship which involves obligation…and what relationship doesn’t? — I continued in the prayerbook:

L’fichach anachnu chayyavim [Because of all the blessings we receive, we are]
l’hodot l’cha, [obliged to acknowlege Your presence in our lives,]
ul’shabbeichacha ul’faercha, [to extol and to honor You,]
ul’vareich u’lkaddeish [to bless and to sanctify You,]
v’lateit shevach v’hodayah lishmecha
[and to give praise and gratitude to You.]
Continue reading Is Thanks Ever Simple?-part 1

Terumah: Great Source(s)

Notes on Terumah from study partners, a rabbi and a playwright —

LK —

For a religious culture obsessed with prohibiting (and obliterating) any graven image, how curious that winged golden statues be set above the ark. Even more fascinating is the statement that not from inside the Ark nor even from above it, but instead between the statues will God speak. this “in between” the two cherubim, two statues, two graven images, is the locus of the voice. As Martin Buber taught us, God is uniquely present in the space in between. And, as Kabbalists imagined, the Shekhina, the feminine, indwelling presence of God, resides between the cherubim.

Neither from one cherub nor the other, but from the space created between them — when they confront each other — issues the revelation. Only relationship can imitate life and growth and revelation. And relationship can be created only when one ego realizes that there is another ego of equal importance. It can only be discovered in the presence of another. You simply cannot get there alone, there must always be someone else; it takes two to tango.

Perhaps that is why the prohibition against idolatry does not apply here. Truth be told, we are all only lifeless graven images until we face another and, in so doing, bring our selves and the other to life. And from between that meeting the divine voice issues.

DM–

The Ark of the Covenant and Ezekiel’s wheel could both be called fantasy. But the second is a vision, and the first is a divine instruction. To say an instruction is beyond our understanding is not to say it is impossible of execution.

We say “I do not understand” of the natural world cheerfully, and endeavor to better understand ourselves and call it “science.”

To be dismissive of “natural” evidence is called “ignorance.” To dismiss the divine is called “sophistication.”

–Lawrence Kushner and David Mamet

While reading Five Cities of Refuge: Weekly Reflections on Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy (NY: Schocken Books, 2003), the deepest, most interesting spot to inhabit is often, much as Kushner notes above, “between” the offerings of these study partners. Several reviews note differences in the styles of the co-authors. Stan C. Denman of Baylor University notes, in [contemporary review — can no longer (2019) find working link] that Kushner’s insights “often innovative and unconventional, stay within accessible distance from the text of study,” while Mamet’s sometimes seem more tangential, “against the grain of conventional erudition, often with favorable results.”

Denman also discusses a tendency in this book to focus on “‘we Jews’ and the particularities of Jewish ‘victimization,'” a practice the reviewer believes will turn-off non-Jewish readers. In my reading, however, the “victimization” tendency appears almost exclusively in the comments of Mamet: God introduced the name “YHVH,” he tells us at one point, e.g., because “El Shaddai” was too Jewish. Kushner, on the other hand, (simply) reads the bible as a conversation between God and “Israel,” with any reader expected to take spiritual and ethical lessons from their position as part of that collective noun. And so, between — between their religious and more secular writing, between the particular and the universal, between them — we are privileged to witness relationship… the only place, Kushner says above, where the divine dwells.

Five Cities of Refuge is available in hardcover or ebook. At $21.00, this might not be at the top of everyone’s “must-purchase” list, but I recommend checking it out, if you’re able.

See Source Materials for more information/links on this title and others.

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The “Opening the Book” series was originally presented in cooperation with the independent, cross-community Jewish Study Center and with Kol Isha, an open group that for many years pursued spirituality from a woman’s perspective at Temple Micah (Reform). “A Song Every Day” is an independent blog, however, and all views, mistakes, etc. are the author’s.

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Vayishlach: Something to Notice

The following excerpt, based in part on this week’s portion, is from “Godwrestling: Jacob and Esau,” the first chapter in Arthur Waskow‘s 1978 book, Godwrestling.*

I first learned of Fabrangen** through this book, recommended by Chuck Fager, a Quaker writer who thought Fabrangen had some things in common with unprogrammed Friends. More than a decade after joining Fabrangen in real life, I now find that Arthur’s words capture an aspect of my own experience: “My deepest learning was precisely the process of wrestling itself, not particular conclusions,” and, although I don’t generally write about Fabrangen — or Temple Micah or the Jewish Study Center, I do struggle with how and where to include fellow Godwrestlers in writing they might not necessarily endorse.***

I think this excerpt, and this weekly portion, offer a great reminder for each of us to take note of those who struggle with us to glimpse the “outlines of God’s Face”:

I was learning to grapple with Torah in the midst of a community of Jews….

The community of Jews was, is, called Fabrangen* — the Yiddish for “coming together.” In it people come together around the effort, the hope–sometimes bright, sometimes flickering–to create a modern path of life that draws authentically from Jewish tradition but is expressed in new ways… (pp. 2-3)

We have no rabbi and no rebbe….

From our many different life experiences, we wrestle with each other. And we wrestle with Torah and all of Jewish tradition…. (p.4)

By telling stories about Fabrangen I give Fabrangen a shape. Because the stories are my stories, the shape Fabrangen takes on is, of necessity, the shape I see…

Perhaps I could avoid this problem by simply writing down the result of the process….Leave Fabrangen to an honorable footnote. But that would be unfaithful to my sense that my deepest learning was precisely the process of wrestling itself, not particular conclusions.

…for now this is one of the many struggles in which we are still straining our eyes in the dark before daybreak, straining to see —

…I welcome wrestling partners to this book. Together may we be able to begin to see the outlines of God’s Face. And of each other’s. (p.12)
— from Godwrestling, Arthur Waskow. NY: Schocken, 1978.

* I believe the 1978 version is out of print. A later edition, God Wrestling-Round 2: Ancient Wisdom, Future Paths, was published in 1998.

** “Farbrangen” is a Yiddish word that means “coming together,” as for a meeting. “Fabrangen” — with no “r” — is the name of a Washington, DC, havurah founded in 1971 and focusing on “coming together in joy.” The name might have been a simple misspelling, the result of translating a Bostoner’s pronunciation, or an indication that Fabrangen has no rabbi.

** Now, footnotes — endangered species though they be — are actually among the most exciting spots in some reading material….Did you ever notice, for example, the footnote in Wittgenstein’s Philosophical Grammar that begins “Compare the joke”? (I’ve hit the jackpot and he wants to give me lessons) [hypernote]

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The “Opening the Book” series was originally presented in cooperation with the independent, cross-community Jewish Study Center and with Kol Isha, an open group that for many years pursued spirituality from a woman’s perspective at Temple Micah (Reform). “A Song Every Day” is an independent blog, however, and all views, mistakes, etc. are the author’s.

Chant it everyday, Chant it everyday

“Rabbi Akiva said: ‘Chant it every day, Chant it every day’” (San 99b). This blog invites you to consider some electronic and print “chants” as part of a daily or occasional practice of learning:
Continue reading Chant it everyday, Chant it everyday