The “collapse” series, launched at the close of Tammuz (late July 2025), began with questions and with cisterns that, God complains, “can hold no water.” In the ensuing weeks, we’ve marked institutional destruction with the mourning and introspection of Av and Elul; we’ve focused on relationship repair and building of shaky new structures through Tishrei’s Days of Awe and Sukkot; and we closed out one Torah reading cycle at Simchat Torah, leading once again into exile, murder, communal violence, catastrophic flood, family conflict, and social scattering.
Now, 14 weeks on, as the Torah portion calls “Lekh Lekha [Go for, or to, yourself!]” (Gen 12:1), this series on repentance in a time of collapse comes to its close. I originally imagined the series as leading toward the high holidays, but the new year came with so many uncertainties… and so I held off, waiting for a logical end point. This closing came for me, sadly, when Tzedek Chicago, where I had been an active member for some years, used my “Al Chet for Institutions” at Yom Kippur services without any plans for organizational teshuvah. (For anyone interested, I formally resigned on October 27 and posted a further update on October 31 after the congregation separated with the second of its foundational co-cantorial soloists.)
Lekh Lekha: Go where?
At the beginning of Elul, Jeremiah’s haftarah questions invited us into a wake-up call and conversation for the season of repentance. The haftarah for Lekh Lekha, Isaiah 40:27-41:16, also begins with a question:
Why do you say, O Jacob, Why declare, O Israel, “My way is hid from GOD, My cause is ignored by my God”? — Isaiah 40:27
Jewish Publication Society commentary notes how this differs from “the theological motif that God deliberately hides [the divine’s] face from [God’s] creatures as an expression of anger or rejection (cf. Deut 31:18; Ps. 44:25)” and identifies the question as a “quote from a communal lament, bemoaning a lack of knowledge” (The JPS Bible Commentary: Haftarot, 2002. Michael Fishbane, citing Claus Westermann, 1969).
The Torah portion itself asks: “Whence do you come [אֵי־מִזֶּה בָאת]? and where do you go?” [וְאָנָה תֵלֵכִי] (a messenger of YHVH of God to Hagar, Gen 16:8).
Both questions seem fitting for this point in our collapse travels.
In addition, the haftarah offers a kind of bookend for the cistern images which began this series. Back then, God chastised the people for having abandoned “Me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, That can hold no water” (Jer 2:13). Now, the people are addressed as “Seed of Abraham my friend” or “…who loved me” [זֶרַע אַבְרָהָם אֹהֲבִי] (Isa 41:8).
We’ve spent weeks considering forms of collapse around us and cisterns that no longer seem to hold water. Now we are reminded that, whatever may be broken around us, the seed of relationship with the divine is still available.
UPDATE October 31, 2025: Over the past four months, Tzedek Chicago has separated the congregation from both long-time co-cantorial soloists: in one case, using the vague “intractable differences” explanation often employed in quashing union/labor disputes; in another case, using specific language about misuse of power which seems directly contradicted by structures of the organization. While I do not deny any individual’s experience of harm, I have witnessed enough problematic uses of power within the organization by those making the public declarations to be wary of how these actions have been taken and announcements made. At this point, although I am deeply grateful for individual relationships I have made over the years and cannot rewrite history to remove my contributions to the congregation, I must re-evaluate any association with the congregation as an entity.
Building communities based on truly transformative justice requires that we strive to “put down the predator’s tools,” according to adrienne maree brown. (We Will Not Cancel Us; more here“). Considering the predator’s tools raises serious misgivings about this week’s Torah portion and many Jewish teachings centering the injunction to pursue “tzedek, tzedek [“justice, justice” or “equity, equity”]. Reflecting on inherited ideas of justice is but one aspect of exploring collapse and the possibility of (re-)building.
Updated for more clarity of expression in the “Justice, In/Out of Context” section and addition of “Some History” section below Friday afternoon (8/29/25, around 5 ET)
Justice, In/Out of Context
The Torah portion “Shoftim [Judges]” (Deut 16:18-21:9) is composed of rules about appointing judges and other legal matters. It contains one of the most quoted verses in the Torah, which begins:
tzedek tzedek tirdof…, …צֶדֶק צֶדֶק תִּרְדֹּף
Justice, justice shall you pursue… (JPS 2006)
Equity, equity you are to pursue… (Fox/Schocken 1996)
— Deuteronomy 16:20
Teaching and preaching on this phrase is frequently separated from the context, in both narrow and wider senses.
In one narrow sense, focusing on the phrase alone and not the surrounding verses allows for generalizing the instruction beyond its most likely connection to the previous verse about accepting bribes. On another verse-specific level, many citations of “justice, justice” leave off the second half of the verse, which reads:
וְיָרַשְׁתָּ אֶת־הָאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר־” אֱלֹהֶיךָ נֹתֵן לָךְ׃
…in order that you may live and possess the land that YHWH your God is giving you! (Fox)
…that you may thrive and occupy the land that your God [YHVH] is giving you. (JPS)
Ignoring the bulk of the verse’s language allows for generalizing the instruction in ways the full verse doesn’t support. These specifics need not invalidate teachings centering “justice, justice.” And it’s essential to note that Torah text never stands on its own in Jewish tradition; it is interpreted and, in many cases, ameliorated by centuries of post-biblical teaching and legal rulings. Still, Shoftim reminds us that our inherited ideas of justice — in- and outside of Judaism — include ideas such as judicial death penalty (Deut 17:2-7), blood-avenging (Deut 19:11-13), “an eye for an eye” (Deut 19:21), and expectations of warfare (Deut 20).
Abolitionist efforts of any kind require serious examination of these and other punitive ideas we’re inherited and a careful look at how they frame our understanding of justice. Alicia Suskin Ostriker offers powerful teachings on the concept of justice and how it relates to Jewish theology — and ideas about the topic, more broadly.
Strange Invention
Decades ago, Ostriker remarked on the “strange invention of the Jews, God’s ‘justice'”:
It is a strange invention of the Jews, God’s “justice.” That God should be “just,” obliged to reward good men who obeyed his laws, care for widows and the poor and so forth, and punish evil ones who didn’t, was not a notion that occurred to the Egyptians, the Canaanites, the Babylonians, the Greeks. We appreciate, if we step back a bit from our theological assumptions, what a peculiar expectation it is that human justice should be intrinsic to a God, and still more odd, that human beings need to remind god about it….
…[God] was waiting for her [Job’s wife, or each of us] to issue her challenge. That is what really happens. God does not know how to be just until the children demand it….
She wants the unjustly slain to be alive and for singing and dance to come to the victims.
We already know what she wants. She wants justice to rain down like waters. She wants adjustment, portion to portion, so that the machinery of the world will look seemly and move powerfully and not scrape and scream. The children of God do not really say that God is just. But they invent the idea. They chew it over and over, holding it up to the light this way and that. And though blood drips from the concept, staining their hands, they are persistent. It is their idea. They want justice to rain down like waters. Justice to rain like waters. Justice to rain. Justice to rain. –Alicia Suskin Ostriker, The Nakedness of the Fathers, p.232, 239, 240. Full citation below**
Ostriker was not writing from an abolitionist perspective or directly addressing the portion Shoftim. But her words point to important work we need to undertake around some basic concepts.
As we move through this period of collapse and consider which tools can still serve, it’s crucial to “take a step back” from many assumptions, in theology and beyond. As we move through Elul toward the new year, we are called to reflect on how our assumptions, and the structures built on them, contribute to harm and what steps we can take to remedy that.
Some History
For either Ostriker’s 1986 “Imagining of Justice” or the 1994 “Meditation on Justice,” a quick history reminder might be in order:
In the 1980s, gender was generally treated as a binary in- and outside of Judaism. Women’s leadership — or even full personhood — was not yet accepted in many parts of the Jewish world, although women were ordained as rabbis in some US movements beginning in the 1970s.
Keshet (For LGBTQ+ equality in Jewish life) was not founded until 1996 and, as their story reports: “Not too long ago, lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer Jews were largely invisible in American Jewish life. Marriage equality wasn’t on anyone’s radar — certainly not on the radar of most synagogues and Jewish organizations — and there was not a single gay-straight alliance at a Jewish high school.”
Ostriker’s 1986 statement about being a Jewish woman — “I am and am not a Jew” — made sense across all Jewish movements, at that time, even in the equality-focused Havurah movement. By the time Nakedness of the Fathers was released in 1994, gender equity had advanced in some Jewish spaces; the Jewish Orthodox Feminist Alliance was still years away, however, and issues of gender and sexuality in Judaism still had (have) a long road ahead throughout Judaism.
Keeping this history in mind adds layers to the call to “take a step back” from assumptions. And Ostriker’s reminder that we have to imagine justice — and how it might relate to the divine — couldn’t be more timely…. it was in 1986 and in 1994 and the countless moments I’ve found myself turning to her words over the decades.
** Full citation: “Job, or a Meditation on Justice,” from Nakedness of the Fathers: Biblical Visions and Revisions. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers, 1994.
Figuring out what kind of community is being constituted, under what rules and expectations, across what kind of timeline, and for what purpose, is a constant challenge — in- and outside of Judaism. As the high holidays approach, and we prepare to declare our collective sins and beg forgiveness, it’s worth considering what and who we mean when we say “forgive us.”
Decades back, Riv-Ellen Prell — anthropologist, Professor Emerita of American Studies at the U. of Minnesota; bio at Jewish Women’s Archives — published a book of scholarship on the Havurah movement. Prayer & Community: The Havurah in American Judaism centers on a community to which Prell had belonged and obtained permission to study. What she found back in 1989 still has great relevance to communities struggling at the intersection of politics and worship.
For anyone who wants to dig really deep, check out The Papers of Riv-Ellen Prell” (research, fieldwork, and correspondence regarding Westwood Free Minyan in Los Angeles and related studies.)
See also: Empowered Judaism : what independent minyanim can teach us about building vibrant Jewish communities. Rabbi Ellie Kaunfer. Jewish Lights Publishing, Woodstock, Vt., 2010
Community Words
Jewish liturgy is filled with references to “the People” [העם, ha-am] or “Your People” [עםך, amkhah, commonly with masculine singular suffix], sometimes “the people Yisrael” or “Jewish people” [עם ישראל, am yisrael]. Biblically — and so in the prayerbook — am can also mean “nation,” as in Yisraelites, or as in “other nation.” Related expressions in bible and prayer including adah [עדה, congregation], kahal or kehillah [קהילה, community], and tzibur [צבור, public/worship gathering]. In addition, Jewish tradition speaks of minyan [מנין, quorum] and havurah [חברה, fellowship].
Community Words: alt text below
Jewish prayer often situates “us” in a group that extends beyond any present gathering, physical or virtual — far into the past and into a hoped-for future.
Community Questions
Questions of alignment with larger movements, in- and outside of Judaism, are always present for individual Jewish communities. In these days of collapse, however, as individual congregations and groups become unmoored from anchoring umbrella-institutions, the questions become more complicated.
What is the community’s relationship to political movements in, and beyond, the US?
What is communal relationship to principles of labor and abolitionist organizing?
How do fundamental values — egalitarianism, transparency, mutual aid, collective decision-making, e.g. — manifest in our communities?
What can we expect of one another in a time of so much collapse?
These and so many other questions need asking, just at a time when so many of us — individually and in our collectives — have very little capacity. What’s a community to do?
Image description: Hebrew and English words: Tzibur — public group. community — kehillah. Folk [Latin and Hebrew characters] Minyan — quorum. Adah — congregation. Fellowship — havurah.
As Rosh Chodesh Elul approaches, rough draft of an al chet [litany of missing the mark] in hopes of awakening us to some areas of error we might try to fix as the Days of Awe draw near. Part of series: Calendar Notes for a Summer of Collapse
Selichot for Institutions, Elul 5785
New text for Elul 5785 (by V. Spatz, CC BY-SA-NC) with **quotations from Machzor Lev Shalem (Rabbinical Assembly, 2010)**
Two-page document is designed for praying, sharing, and printing through format that distinguishes machzor quotations and newer text for many readers. Full text also appears in post format below.
The soul is Yours, the body is Your creation
Have compassion on Your handiwork ** (p.225)
In function and in failure, our institutions are Yours as well
Re-orient us to divine sparks and powers within
Save us from ourselves with ourselves under Your guidance
Grant relief to this driven leaf (Lev 26:36)
Have compassion on that which is but dust and ashes
Cast away our sins, be kind to Your creations.
God saw it and appraised it, examined it and plumbed it,
and then God said to human beings:
“The fear of HASHEM — that is wisdom;
departing from sin — that is true knowledge” (Job 28:28) ** (p.224)
Our institutions are at once fragile and ponderous,
fleeting and stagnant, intractable and so easily toppled
conflict and confusion foster many modes of collapse
Keep us from contributing our own brittleness and turmoil
Remind us of connection’s strength and possibility
Help us pursue repair when all seems lost
If you see within me cause for sadness, guide me toward eternal truths
Hear my prayer, God, give ear to my cry; do not disregard my tears;
like all my forebears I am a wanderer, a guest in Your house
Make me an instrument of Your salvation ** (p.228)
My soul yearns for You, though I am afraid of Your judgment
My heart is caught in the web it has spun.
Form me anew, granting me a heart freshly born ** (p.230)
Our understanding is limited, obstacles abound
Our errors serve as brambles, adding pain along the way
We’ve lost ourselves and misled others
Clarify our missteps so we know when we must turn
Teach us to notice stumbling-blocks and dangers in the road
When despair threatens, nudge us back toward hope
We call out in words You taught Moses to use in times of trouble: “HaShem, HaShem, God compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, full of kindness and trust, extending kindness to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin –” (Ex 34:6-7)
For the sin we have committed before You in destroying without thought to the future
For the sin we have committed before You by bowing down to the past
For the sin we have committed before You by focusing on policy in a world on fire
For the sin we have committed before You by thinking crisis overrides all planning and care
For the sin we have committed before You by thoughtlessly allowing ourselves to be led
For the sin we have committed before You by refusing to honor leadership
For the sin we have committed before You by failing to ask how we can help
For the sin we have committed before You by assuming it’s easier to do it all ourselves
For the sin we have committed before You by approving decisions that worry us
For the sin we have committed before You by second-guessing every step
For the sin we have committed before You by treating critique as attack
For the sin we have committed before You by attacking under the guise of help
For the sin we have committed before You by treating lock-step as unity
For the sin we have committed before You by mistaking variety of opinion for inclusion
For the sin we have committed before You by assuming we know too little to offer opinion
For the sin we have committed before You by thinking we know it all
For the sin we have committed before You by assuming our perspectives somehow universal
For the sin we have committed before You by assuming our own experiences unique
For the sin we have committed before You by mistaking outrage for justice
For the sin we have committed before You by succumbing to complacency
For the sin we have committed before You by fearing uncertainty and pause
For the sin we have committed before You by letting uncertainty paralyze us
For the sin we have committed before You by bringing punitive efforts into abolition work
For the sin we have committed before You by using abolition language to absolve real error
For the sin we have committed before You by putting Movement above people
For the sin we have committed before You by failing to keep our eyes on the prize
To all these sins, awaken us, help us recognize harm, and grant us ability to change
Bring us to the day when we can ask that you forgive us, pardon us, and grant us atonement.
Featured image is cropped from earthquake photo by Angelo Giordano via Pixabay
Presentation title page: “Matir Asurim: Introduction to the Jewish Care Network for Incarcerated People,” Yom Kippur 5785 — Virginia Avniel Spatz. + Tzedek Chicago logo
Some of us have been worshiping together for much of the day. Others may be joining from another context. Either way, I hope this hour will bring focus to one way we can engage in teshuvah/repair for the coming year. The basic concept for this session is that I was asked to share a little about my volunteer work with the organization, Matir Asurim: The Jewish Care Network for Incarcerated People, and bring some text to link that work with Yom Kippur.
Overview, Basics, and Contacts
[SLIDE 2]. The planned shape of the session is:
Basics and contact information for myself and the organization Matir Asurim
Text exploration: Genesis 44
Matir Asurim Guiding Principles
Back to Genesis 44
Thoughts for Yom Kippur and into 5785
So, let’s get started with some basics
[SLIDE 3] Matir Asurim — “One Who Frees Captives”
Who We Are: “We are a collection of Chaplains, Rabbis, Cantors, Kohanot/Hebrew Priestesses, advocates, activists, volunteers, loved ones of incarcerated people, and people with direct experience of incarceration. We are an all volunteer group who began meeting in 2021. We live and work across Turtle Island, in territories, cities, and rural settings of the US and Canada.”
I’ve been volunteering with Matir Asurim for close to two years,
producing the monthly e-newsletter,
serving as a penpal/chevruta partner with an incarcerated Jew,
helping to create resources for readers who are incarcerated,
helping craft materials for outside readers around incarceration,
producing some additional programming,
and working on organizational infrastructure.
We’ll get into some more specifics a bit later. Meanwhile, some contacts:
[Summary] Joseph is 12th of 13 siblings in the family of Jacob, Rachel, Leah, Bilhah, and Zilpah. In his youth, he was the favorite of his father, Jacob, and an annoyance to the rest of the family. So, Joseph’s brothers attempt to get rid of him. Their scheming takes an odd turn, however, and, although his family does not know it, Joseph becomes a powerful government leader in Mitzrayim, second in command to Pharaoh.
When famine strikes in Canaan, Jacob sends the brothers down to Mitzrayim, where grain is plentiful, to beg food. Joseph, still unrecognized by his brothers, treats the brothers to a feast at the palace and grants the requested supplies.
Joseph also orchestrates a criminal charge against the youngest brother – thus creating a situation in which the older siblings can again harm a younger brother, or they can act to avoid such harm.
Genesis 44 starts as the brothers leave the palace with the supplies.
[SLIDE 5] Genesis 44 Revised (2023) Jewish Publication Society translation, via Sefaria
1) Then he [Joseph] instructed his house steward as follows, “Fill the men’s bags with food, as much as they can carry, and put each one’s money in the mouth of his bag.
2) Put my silver goblet in the mouth of the bag of the youngest one, together with his money for the rations.” And he did as Joseph told him.
3) With the first light of morning, the men were sent off with their pack animals.
4) They had just left the city and had not gone far, when Joseph said to his house steward, “Up, go after those men! And when you overtake them, say to them, ‘Why did you repay good with evil?”…
[The house steward follows Joseph’s orders, going after the brothers and accusing them of stealing the goblet.]
12) He searched, beginning with the oldest and ending with the youngest; and the goblet turned up in Benjamin’s bag.
13) At this they rent their clothes. Each reloaded his pack animal, and they returned to the city.
[SLIDE 6] (Genesis 44 cont.)
14) When Judah and his brothers reentered the house of Joseph, who was still there, they threw themselves on the ground before him.
15) Joseph said to them, “What is this deed that you have done? Do you not know that a man like me practices divination?”
16) Judah replied, “What can we say to my lord? How can we plead, how can we prove our innocence? God has uncovered the crime of your servants. Here we are, then, slaves of my lord, the rest of us as much as the one in whose possession the goblet was found.”
17) But [Joseph] replied, “Far be it from me to act thus! Only the man in whose possession the goblet was found shall be my slave; the rest of you go back in peace to your father.”
18) Then Judah went up to him and said, “Please, my lord, let your servant appeal to my lord, and do not be impatient with your servant, you who are the equal of Pharaoh. [Link to bilingual English/Hebrew at Mechon-Mamre]
pray let your servant speak a word in the ears of my lord,
יְדַבֶּר־נָא עַבְדְּךָ דָבָר בְּאׇזְנֵי אֲדֹנִי
and do not let your anger flare up against your servant,
וְאַל־יִחַר אַפְּךָ בְּעַבְדֶּךָ
for you are like Pharaoh!
כִּי כָמוֹךָ כְּפַרְעֹה׃
va’yigash eilav…
This expression, va’yigash eilavis, is worth considering. It comes up in midrash about this Torah story and it appears in Maimonides vocabulary discussion.
Jewish Teachers Discuss “Approaching”
[SLIDE 8] This is a small portion from Maimonides Guide for the Perplexed. Part 1 has many chapters focusing on Hebrew vocabulary.
BTW, I highly recommend checking out Maimonides’ vocabulary chapters, if you can. Sefaria offers free bilingual text with live links to the Tanakh verses mentioned, and I find it a worthwhile exercise to spend some time with the words Maimonides discusses.
Part 1, Chapter 18 is about three similar words: Karov, Naga, and Nagash
קרוב – נגוע – נגוש
Maimonides writes:
“THE three words karab, “to come near,” naga‘, “to touch,” and nagash, “to approach,” sometimes signify “contact” or “nearness in space,” sometimes the approach of man’s knowledge to an object, as if it resembled the physical approach of one body to another.”
He gives examples of each usage, including Gen 44:18: “…And Judah drew near (va-yiggash) unto him”
While we pursue the exchange between Judah and Joseph, it’s worth keeping this expression and the Hebrew vocabulary in mind, more generally: What does it mean to be near to another person in terms of physical space and knowledge of another?
A number of teachers over the centuries have derived lessons from Genesis 44:18. Here are two…
[SLIDE 9] va’yigash eilav yehudah…
It is asked: Judah and Joseph are already in the same room. So, why does the text tell us that Judah vayigash, “drew near” or “came in contact”?
One answer: Jacob ben Asher says:
The last letters of these three words — vayigaSH eilaV yehudaH,shin-vav-hey — spell “shaveh, שָׁוֶה [equal].” Judah’s step forward changes the dynamic, allowing the brothers to speak directly, as equals.
Another answer: The 18th Century teacher, Or Hachayim, from Morocco, cites Prov 27:19: “As face answers to face in water, So does one person’s heart to another”
Building on his teaching, we can see Judah’s step forward as an attempt to create a face-to-face encounter. This was a struggle for Judah, to step across apparent cultural differences and the gap in their positions. The result, ultimately, was reconciliation between the brothers.
This principle of seeking face-to-face interaction can be useful for the season of teshuvah to consider when taking steps in interpersonal reconciliation.
It is also a guiding principle for Matir Asurim as an organization.
Matir Asurim Guiding Concepts
[SLIDE 10] Panim-el-Panim, seeking face-to-face approach, is a guiding principle of Matir Asurim: “Seeking ‘face-to-face’ interactions, despite difference, distance and bars; approaching one another as equals and striving to work in genuine relationship.”
This shapes our penpal relationships, our creation of resources for those who are behind bars, as well as any advocacy on legislation or change of practices, regulations, and conditions inside.
Matir Asurim seeks to provide resources that reflect realities in carceral facilities which often include circumstances that contradict assumptions in much Jewish teaching
reciting prayers or reading Torah right next to toilets;
reciting daily prayers upon waking, which might not align with shacharit, morning prayers, at all;
figuring out how to create community in isolation, when so much of Jewish life assumes access to community (not exclusively an incarceration issue, but a BIG challenge for Jew who are incarcerated)
There are enormous challenges to organizing across bars, and we know that people inside are counting on those of us on the outside to organize and advocate where they cannot.
Still, it’s crucial to take our lead from incarcerated people and those who have experienced incarceration.
All people are created in the image of the Divine.
We all carry a spark of divine goodness as well as the capacity for creative action and transformation.
Teshuva [repentance/return]:
We believe in human resilience and transformation, in our ability to make amends after experiencing and/or perpetrating harm.
We practice this relationally as conflict arises within our organizing, and also strive to create a world that uplifts restorative accountability processes rather than punishment.
Refua Shleima [Complete Healing]:
We work towards collective healing and wholeness, striving to restore balanced relationships within the broader interconnected web of creation and to heal the traumatic effects of white supremacy, colonization, and other systems of oppression that affect our minds and bodies.
Learning from every person:
Learning from every person requires honoring the contributions and voices of people who have been systemically silenced, including through incarceration. In our conversations, we strive to hold awareness around differences in identity and power dynamics.
Kol Yisrael Aravim Zeh Bazeh
[All Jews Are Responsible, One to the Other]/Communal Responsibility:
“All Yisrael is responsible, one for the other.” Jews have many universalist obligations, but we also have a special duty to other Jews.
A little more on this last principle —
[SLIDE 12] Kol Yisrael Aravim Zeh Bazeh
Matir Asurim works with non-Jewish individuals and organizations on issues, trying to address needs of folks who are incarcerated and returning from incarceration in both the US and Canada.
Many non-Jewish groups are larger and better equipped to cope with more general issues, such as solitary confinement and the death penalty. We are also trying to link up with other affected groups regarding what is often called “religious diet.”
But we also focus on specifically Jewish needs: Trying to ensure that incarcerated Jews and those exploring Judaism have access to penpals and spiritual resources. In some carceral facilities, Jews are still offered a Christian bible and told to “ignore the end.” Trying to supply more appropriate resources is one goal. We also seek to fill requests for obtaining a tallit or tefillin – often an issue for those who are not recognized by Aleph (the biggest Jewish organization working in prisons, which provides resources for some Jews but not all).
[SLIDE 13] At a more basic level, we seek to increase awareness in Jewish communities that Jews DO experience incarceration and that we cannot treat incarceration as something that happens to other people.
This awareness also leads, in turn, to more general concerns about incarceration and the toll it takes on individuals, families, and society….
And that takes us back to Maimonides’ idea that “coming near” can be a matter of knowledge as much as one of physical nearness.
Back to “Coming Near”
[SLIDE 14] Back to Genesis 44
[Summary] Judah approaches Joseph and relates the brothers’ previous visit to Mitzrayim for food rations, when Joseph insisted that they return with their youngest brother. Judah includes in his tale the fiction, from years earlier, of a brother killed by a beast and their father’s real grief over the loss. Judah says that incarcerating Benjamin would increase Jacob’s pain and so offers himself as captive instead. At this point, Joseph can no longer restrain himself, clears the room of everyone except his brothers, weeps loudly, and reveals himself.
Gen 45:4-5 – Fox (Schocken) translation:
Then Yosef said to his brothers: I am Yosef. Is my father still alive?
But his brothers were not able to answer him,
for they were terrified before him.
Yosef said to his brothers:
Pray come close to me! [geshu-na eilai גְּשׁוּ־נָא אֵלַי]
They came close. [va’yigashu וַיִּגָּשׁוּ]
He said: I am Yosef your brother, whom you sold into Egypt.
This time, the same verb, nagash, that we saw in Gen 44:18 is used by Joseph to invite approach, and the brother comply. Joseph invites the brothers to hear a truth they previously did not know even though they did know they had a part in causing harm.
In the Torah, Joseph will go on to explain that it’s all good, because even though the brothers meant ill, God meant to put Joseph where he ends up. Still we can consider this verse and what it means for the brothers to hear from Joseph about his direct experience. They come close and learn something they did not know but MUST if they are to understand Joseph’s life and their own roles in the wider world which also includes incarceration as a regular part of its function.
There are ways we all can learn more about the role incarceration plays in our history and our society now and how it impacts individuals and families.
We can opt to get closer to individuals who are or have been incarcerated.
We can also opt to approach through general learning.
[SLIDE 15] They came close: approaching as a matter of knowledge
Explore the complex, interrelated stories of racism, enslavement, and incarceration; of colonialism, displacement and destruction
Learn about the over-representation of Indigenous people in US and Canadian carceral systems
Learn about the Incentive System in the Canadian carceral system
Learn about the Exception Clause in the 13th Amendment to the US Constitution
Learn about the “Auburn system” of incarceration, which predates the US Civil War and the 13th Amendment. We have a video and transcript coming soon about Freeman’s Challenge — and I recommend the book….
One of the things that Robin Bernstein, author of Freeman’s Challenge, says she was trying to do with her book is to stop letting the North off the hook in terms of responsibility for our carceral state. Many of us associate exploiting prisoners for profit with the US South and Reconstruction. But her book describes a prison for profit system that pre-dates the Civil War and originates in the North….
For me, learning about the Auburn system, which originated in upstate New York, was a real shift in my thinking. So, coming on that verse, Gen 45:5 — where Joseph says, “I am the one you sold into imprisonment,” really rings new.
More details on some of the topics above, and some related Jewish texts, are available on Matir Asurim’s Resources page — originally prepared for Passover, but also more widely applicable. For more on Freman’s Challenge, visit this page.
by what can we show ourselves innocent? וּמַה־נִּצְטַדָּק
God has found out your servants’ crime! הָאֱלֹהִים מָצָא אֶת־עֲוֺן עֲבָדֶיךָ
Here we are, servants to my lord, הִנֶּנּוּ עֲבָדִים לַאדֹנִי
so we, גַּם־אֲנַחְנוּ
so the one in whose hand the goblet was found. גַּם אֲשֶׁר־נִמְצָא הַגָּבִיעַ בְּיָדוֹ
[SLIDE 17] When Joseph orchestrates the threatened punishment of Benjamin alone, Judah says “God has found out your servants’ crime!” – ha-elohim, matza et-avon avdeikha
He then repeats the same verb, to find [mem-tzadei-aleph], and offers this poetic statement of collective responsibility:
Many teachers note that Judah seems to be acknowledging the brothers’ long-ago crime. And that verb, mem-tzadei-aleph, finding, might point us to things we might find we are complicit in, like living in a carceral state that relies on ideas of “public safety” leading to people being locked up and tortured.
Judah’s statement — “so we, so the one in whose hand the goblet was found” or “the rest of us as much as he in whose possession the goblet was found” points to an understanding of collective responsibility not unlike what we recite throughout Yom Kippur — when one of us commits a crime, we, all of us, who permitted the conditions that lead to crime, are the ones who sinned.
I am intrigued by disagreement among sources, including origins for a piece of music. So, I am sharing here some things I recently discovered trying to find the right citation for “Return Again,” often sung during the Days of Awe.
The song seems to have begun, as many compositions of Shlomo Carlebach (1925 – 1994), z”l, apparently did, as a wordless niggun. (See brief note on Carlebach‘s controversial legacy with links to more information.)
Shlomo Carlebach put Hebrew lyrics (from festival musaf) to the tune:
V'hashev kohanim leavodatam velevi'im leshiram ulezimram ve'hashev yisrael linveihem [Restore the priests to their service, the Levites to their song and psalmody, and Israel to their habitations.]
English lyrics came later. Rafael Simcha (Ronnie) Kahn says he wrote them, and this short video shows Carlebach citing “our friend Ronnie Kahn” for the English.
In 2019, Kahn filed suit against Shlomo’s daughters, Nechama and Nedara, over ownership of the song. Kahn vs. Carlebach, claims there was a joint copyright filed in the 1970s, improperly amended later. In June 2023, a US District Court Judge upheld Kahn’s right to sue, while also dismissing some claims. (See also CaseText and Archive.org.)
Zemirot Database for the English notes permission from Nechama Carlebach and cites Shlomo as (sole) author.
Shaina Noll’s (1992) version credits S. Carlebach and The Carlebach Family.
A number of sources in the last five years or so list S. Carlebach for the tune and R. Kahn for the lyrics.
The Hanashir note includes different lyrics attributed to Rafael Simcha Kahn:
"Return again, Return again, Return to the home of your soul; You who have strayed, Be not afraid, You're safe in the house of the Lord"
The note on the 2002 Hanashir list does not discuss the purported lyric shift, from “You who have strayed…in the house of the Lord” to “Return to who you are…born and reborn again.”
…The substantial differences might explain why the video (also linked above), identified as from 1976 and posted by Kahn, is cut off so early in the tune. (There could, of course, be many other reasons for the video’s length.)…
Hanashir does discuss one word change, however:
At a certain point, Shlomo, who started singing his niggun with Ronnie's words as well as the original Hebrew ones, changed the first verse to "...Return to the land of your soul"-- making it more of a (religious, obviously) Zionist verse and less of a general "spiritual" one. I [Robert Cohen] personally thought it was a change for the worse, as it particularized and narrowed whom it might speak to. Ronnie's words, I thought, spoke to every Jew--as the verse in tefillah does.
Complex legacies
I [Virginia Spatz] personally find it fascinating that this (decades old) discussion focused on the shift from “home” to “land,” while assuming that liturgy about restoration of the Temple spoke to “every Jew.”
I find it fascinating that we have this archived discussion still — however informal it was at the time, and however fleeting it was assumed to be. I wonder, even as I participate in it, about the ethics of referencing a communication that was not written for long-term consumption.
I find it fascinating that the musical and Jewish worlds cannot easily answer the simple query: who wrote this song?
And I find it fascinating and important for us to consider how we honor and build on the work of those who came before us. What kinds of changes are appropriate, as we bring forward materials from the past, and what kinds of acknowledgements are needed?
Featured image is heading from legal filing: “United States District Court, Eastern District of New York. Ronnie Kahn, Plaintiff, -against- Neshama Carlebach and Nedara Carlebach, defendants.”
I have a very intense relationship with the book, For Times Such As These: A Radical’s Guide to the Jewish Year by Rabbi Ariana Katz and Rabbi Jessica Rosenberg. (Excerpt here: Tammuz in Times Such as These).
Having been told that it was in the works and pre-ordering it quite early, I felt involved with it before I ever held it in my hands. I’m a big fan of its authors and of Wayne State University Press, with its Jewish studies and midwest-focused titles. Then, as it happened, that fall 2023 pre-order proved a tremendous blessing in ways none of us could have imagined: In those post-Sukkot months, genocidal attacks on the West Bank, as well as Gaza, were launched with justifications based on Jewish survival and Jewish teaching; so many Jews and Jewish institutions seemed ready to turn their backs on Jewish values, so just knowing that there was a book on the way testifying to possibilities of living and organizing in Jewish integrity was a lifeline.
I participated in an on-line book event for Tu B’shvat on January 18 (2024), apparently received one of the first copies Wayne State mailed out (in late January), had my copy signed at the first book reading of the national tour (at Red Emma’s in Baltimore, March 3), and joined a second tour event in Washington, DC (May 22; more on the book and its authors’ tour).
For a book that some would still consider brand new [just over five months together, when I wrote this in July 2024] , me and my copy have been through a lot together. And, today, while deep in conversation, the book’s binding split and some pages began sliding free.
pages sliding out of perfect-bound book
…Now, maybe I was too rough. Maybe the perfect-binding did not quite live up to its name. Or, possibly, the break was some kind of organic result of considering the calamities of the month of Tammuz and questions like: “How are the hurts of your communities’ histories manifesting in the collective body?”…
However the binding break happened, I found myself thinking it was a little soon for this particular volume to join the “well-loved/much-used” stage of our relationship: Do we even know one another well enough for that!? Those thoughts led, as these things do with me, to new lyrics for “Something to Talk About.”
So, here, in honor of this whirlwind start to what I expect will be a long, loving, and fruitful relationship, is “Something to Talk About: Me and For Times Such As These” — with love and respect to Shirley Eikhard and Bonnie Raitt.
“Something to Talk About: Me and For Times Such As These“
Ooh, Ooh…. People are talking, talking about reading I hear them whisper, you won’t believe it They think we’re lovers kept under covers I just ignore it, but they keep saying We meet just a little too much Lean just a little too close We stay just a little too long Maybe they’re seein’ something we don’t, darling
Let’s give ’em something to talk about Let’s give ’em something to talk about How ’bout little something to talk about How about words?
I feel so clumsy, did not expect it you split your binding, could we be rushing, baby ? It took the rumor to start things rumbling Now it seems we’re already tumbling Travelin’ through Jewish days Cyclin’ through the whole year long I’m hoping that you’re up for this trip If we both know it, let’s really show it, baby
Let’s give ’em something to talk about, babe A little mystery to figure out Let’s give ’em something to talk about I want your love!
— Original lyrics by Shirley Eikhard (1955-2022), famously performed by Bonnie Raitt, beginning with 1991 “Luck of the Draw” album
Sometimes, when I wear a book out, I find a new copy. In some cases (Finnegans Wake is one), I keep the old one for sentimental reasons but use the newer copy for practical reasons. With a few books, however, the split-binding copy is the one I continue to use.
Here are the Jewish studies volumes that remain with me, for regular reference, despite binding mishaps:
Max Kadushin. Worship and Ethics: A Study in Rabbinic Judaism. Bloch Publishing, 1963. (Scotch-tape inside)
Arthur I. Waskow. God-Wrestling. Schocken Books, 1978. (Binder clip on open side)
Rabbi Ariana Katz and Rabbi Jessica Rosenberg. For Times Such and These: A Radical’s Guide to the Jewish Year. Wayne State University Press, 2024. (String somehow seemed appropriate for this one, but it will depend on shelf situation.)
Statistically speaking, this house has many books on subjects similar to these three. And surely it must be accidental that these particular three comprise the “broken binding/still used” category. Nevertheless, the three books do seem to belong together, both in terms of theme and in terms of how essential I have found each to be, at different points in my life. So, I cannot shake the urge to anthropomorphize my new-ish book by insisting that it prematurely, purposely joined the broken-binding-brigade.
Looking at these three books, I recall that Max Ticktin (June 30, 1920 – July 3, 2016) , z”l, found Kadushin very dry as a JTS professor and was puzzled by my enthusiasm for this work, while he loved Arthur Waskow’s writing and was proud of his connections to Fabrangen Havurah. I cannot help wondering what Max would have made of For Times Such and These. I am quite sure he would have applauded this line: “We read Korah and ask, how do we organize in ways where all of us get to bring our unique and varied skills and power?” (p.326). And maybe that’s the through-line for the books in my broken-binding-brigade.
Image descriptions: 1) stack of three paper-back books — God-Wrestling,Worship and Ethics, and For Times Such as These — showing loose pages and wear. 2) Three books — For Times Such as These, God-Wrestling, and Worship and Ethics — shown cover out: first, held together by string; second, with a large binder-clip; third shows ragged pages (bound with tape).
Is “living in luxury” the root of all “sin [chet]”?
The high holiday liturgy is filled with the word, “chet,” usually translated as “sin,” as in the prominent confession:
“For the sin we have sinned… […עַל חֵטְא שֶׁחָטָאנוּ, al chet sh’chatanu…].”
One root-meaning of chet is “[to miss], to fail, err, sin.” Archery metaphors abound this time of year. And considering how, where, and why we “missed the mark” is an important endeavor for the season. But rarely** are we asked to focus on another definition for the same root letters: “living in luxury” or “well-dressed, polished, cleansed.” Exploring the intersection of “luxury” and “sin” can be an important addition to our self-reflections.
There are plenty of resources out there for exploring the intersection of wealth, privilege, and “sin.” See this year’s Hill Havurah resources, for just one example. But here, as an offering for this season of return and repentance, is a basic exploration of the dictionary path less traveled.
**In fact, I don’t know of any such discussions and would appreciate any citations.
Please note: Geekier details appear further below, following an attempt at a more narrative approach.
Although this is my own exploration, this post was inspired by Elul studies at SVARA: The traditionally radical yeshiva, and by learning with Hill Havurah and sister organization, Mount Moriah Baptist Church.
Image is a pile of gold bricks. Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Chet I, Chet II
The biblical lexicon, Brown-Driver-Briggs, has only one long entry for “chet,” based on the root “miss the mark,” with comparison to an Arabic word with a similar root-meaning. The Jastrow Dictionary, however, offers word has two separate entries for the same root-letters: The second (II) is the commonly cited “miss the mark,” and the first (I) is “to live in luxury, to be like a nobleman, to be well-dressed, clean &c.” based on a root-meaning “to stroll idly, saunter.”
The chet I entry is filled with references to midrashic texts that develop meaning through word-play and sound associations. (The full Jastrow entry can be found at Sefaria.)
The first example finds that “chet” means “purify” through a word-play around Leviticus 1:5 (sacrificial slaughter [veshacḥat] of a bull) with “cleansing” [chat] centered on a body part that bends [shach]. (See bend below.)
Examples of “chet” used to mean “to be gratified” and “to ask petulantly” are also explored. (See gratification below.)
An example linking “chet” with luxury centers on a midrash involving Abraham refusing gifts from the King of Sodom and Daniel refusing gifts from Balshezar. (See luxury below.)
The chet I entry does not offer straightforward grammar to explain the nature of sin in biblical or rabbinic thought. It does present a fascinating glimpse at rabbinic word-play over the centuries. And the mere existence of this entry offers food for thought on links between wealth and sin:
What can we learn from the examples of Abraham and Daniel rejecting wealth from rulers associated with excess and oppression?
Why did Jastrow include this speculative exploration here? And how can it help us this season of return, repentance, and repair?
With this entry as preamble to the one on “missing the mark,” what might we learn about how “living in luxury” and “being accustomed to comfort” affect our ability to hit the mark in all manner of thought and action?
Further exploration of the chet I examples follow, with some additional details also linked.
Luxury and Its Rejection
The chet I entry includes several citations to commentary on the Song of Songs, Shir HaShirim Rabbah. (Jastrow uses the Latin-based abbreviation “Cant.” to refer to the bible book [“Canticles”] and “Cant. R.” to refer to the midrash collection.)
Shir HaShirim Rabbah, dated roughly to 800-1000 CE, offers homelitical explanations for each phrase in the Song of Songs. To illustrate a reflexive form of “chet” as “to show one’s self a nobleman, to be generous, proud,” Jastrow references a midrash on Song of Songs 7:7, “How fair you are and how pleasant you are, love, in delights.”
The phrase, “love, in delights,” is explained with reference to biblical incidents involving riches:
Abraham refuses gifts (“excuses himself”) from the King of Sodom (Gen 14:22-23) after helping the king recover captured people and goods;
Daniel refuses gifts (“excuses himself”) from Belshazar (Dan 5:16-17), while providing him the service of reading “the writing on the wall.”
In each case, the biblical hero would have been expected to accept goods and recognition for services rendered. Refusing could seem insulting. In these instances, however, Abraham and Daniel are praised for doing so. The King of Sodom and Belshazar are associated, in their respective biblical stories, with a variety of excesses in their conduct and oppression in their rule. Abraham and Daniel stand in contrast. Their refusals to take “earthly delights” are understood as expressing love of God.
It seems clear that both the bible stories and the midrash hold Abraham and Daniel as righteous; it is less obvious (to me, anyway) how the midrash and grammar function: Who, in the midrash, exemplifies this sauntering show of luxury?
Are Abraham and Daniel showing themselves as noble, generous and proud, that is, (avoiding sin by) rejecting luxury? OR
Are the King of Sodom and Belshazzar showing themselves as noble, generous and proud, that is, (committing the sin of) flaunting luxury?
Abraham is clear and succinct that his rejection of the gifts is about NOT giving credit to the apparently generous King of Sodom:
I will not take so much as a thread or a sandal strap of what is yours; you shall not say, ‘It is I who made Abram rich.’ — Gen 14:23
Daniel’s response to Belshazzar is more complex:
You may keep your gifts for yourself, and give your presents to others. But I will read the writing for the king, and make its meaning known to him….
[to Belshazzar] You exalted yourself against the Lord of Heaven, and had the vessels of [God’s] temple brought to you. You and your nobles, your consorts, and your concubines drank wine from them and praised the gods of silver and gold, bronze and iron, wood and stone, which do not see, hear, or understand; but the God who controls your lifebreath and every move you make—[God] you did not glorify!
[Eventually, Daniel is given the gifts at Belshazzar’s command, and then Belshazzar is killed.]
— Dan 5:17, 23, [29-30]
While both Abraham and Daniel end up with riches at various points in their stories, cautionary elements remain in their tales and in Jewish commentary over the centuries. (See also “Belshazzar and the Wall.”)
The chet I entry offers opportunities to consider these tales in the approach to the high holidays or in other consideration of “sin” and what it means to “miss the mark.”
The chet I examples for “being raised in luxury, being delicate” include more commentary from Shir HaShirim Rabbah as well as some from Kohelet Rabbah, commentary on Ecclesiastes dated to about 750 – 900 CE. In addition, this meaning is supported by citations to the Targum, Aramaic translation of the Torah, from the early centuries of the Common Era:
The man who is gentle [דְמֶחְטֵי, d’mechtei] and refined among you will look with evil eyes upon his brother, and the wife who reposes on his bosom, and upon the rest of his children who remain.
She who is delicate [דִמְחַטַיְיתָא, dimchatai’eta] and luxurious among you, who has not ventured to put the sole of her foot upon the ground from tenderness and delicacy, will look with evil eyes upon the husband of her bosom, upon her son and her daughter.
— Targum for Deut 28:54, 56
Worth noting, if only as evidence for complex interactions between the related words and their meanings, is the entry for the word, “chitui [חִיטּוּי, חִטּוּי].” It includes both the “cleansing, purification” and the “delicacy, luxury, enjoyment” meanings of chet, citing both chet I and chet II.
The chet I entry includes citation to a word-play around Leviticus 1:5 (sacrificial slaughter of a bull). Jastrow’s citation appears in a passage about kosher slaughter techniques for ordinary, non-sacrificial food (Babylonian Talmud, Chullin ([חולין], “ordinary”). The meaning “to make look well, polish, dress, cleanse, prepare” is derived from a play on the Hebrew for slaughter [veshacḥat]:
Slaughter is conducted “from the place where the animal bends [shach],” i.e., the neck; it is purified[chattehu] through letting the blood run out, “cleansing.” Additional citations are to Lev 14:52 (“v’chitei ha-bayit [you shall purity the house]…”) and Psalms 51:9 (“Purge me [techatte’eni] with hyssop and I will be pure.”)
Further discussion in Chullin asks if slaughter could be conducted from the tail, which is also bent. But this is countered with the idea that the tail is perpetually bent, and the requirement is for a body part which is usually erect but bent for slaughter.
It is not explicit in the cited discussion at Chullin 27a, but it is noteworthy that “bending” is key here. The bending aspect of slaughter is also discussed at Rereading4Liberation.
A Dictionary of the Targumim, Talmud Bavli and Yerushalmi, and the Midrashic Literature, edited by Professor Marcus Jastrow, was first published in 1903. It is available in many editions (although I do not believe newer versions differ from older ones). It can now be accessed through Wikipedia and Sefaria. More on Jastrow in the 1906 Jewish Encyclopedia.
Jastrow thanks earlier scholars:
In conclusion, the author begs to state his indebtedness to Jacob Levy’s Targumic and Neo-Hebrew Dictionaries, where an amount of material far exceeding the vocabularies of the Arukh and Buxtorf’s Lexicon Hebraicum et Chaldaicum is accumulated, which alone could have encouraged and enabled the author to undertake a task the mere preparation for which may well fill a lifetime.
— preface 1903, p.XIII
Jacob Levy (1819-1892) published the two-volume Wörterbuch über die Talmudim und Midrashim in Leipzig in 1867-68. The same publishers issued new editions in 1876 and 1881. These include an appendix by Heinrich Leberecht Fleischer (1801-1888), described by Wikipedia as “a German orientalist.” (I think these references are only available in German.)
In Jastrow, Fleischer’s appendix to Levy’s dictionary is referenced directly as “Fl. to Levy Targ. Dict.” These references, including the one in chet I, are infrequent.
Chet-tet-aleph/chet-tet-yud [חטי, חָטָא] has two separate entries in the Jastrow Dictionary. The second is the commonly cited “miss the mark” (II). The first entry (I) in Jastrow for chet-tet-aleph/chet-tet-yud [חטי, חָטָא] is quite different:
[to stroll idly, saunter (v. Fl. to Levy Targ. Dict. I 424,2)] to live in luxury, to be like a nobleman, to be well-dressed, clean &c. (cmp. פנק, פרנק).
The full Jastrow entry can be found at Sefaria. And here, for convenience, are the two verbs listed for comparison:
פָּנַק (b. h.; cmp. פּוּק) [to go out,] to be a freeman; to live in luxury (cmp. חָטָא I).
פִּרְנֵק (Parel of פָּנַק) to delight; to treat with dainties.
Hithpa. – הִתְפַּרְנֵק to enjoy dainties. Cant. R. to VII, 2 מִתְפַּרְנְקִין, v. חָטָא I.
The midrash contains a repeated expression, with a reflexive form of chet: “…שֶׁהָיָה מִתְחַטֵּא, she-hayah mit-chatei…” — translated as “excuses himself.”
for Abraham: שֶׁהָיָה מִתְחַטֵּא עַל מֶלֶךְ סְדוֹם
There is at least one spot where the Jastrow dictionary references BOTH meanings, chet I and chet II. Jastrow entry for the word, “chitui” includes both the “cleansing, purification” and the “delicacy, luxury, enjoyment” meanings.
חִיטּוּי, חִטּוּי m. (v. חטי I, II) [reference here to the verb chet-tet-yud entries I and II] 1)cleansing, purification. Sifré Num. 126 לכלל ח׳ under the law of purification (ref. to Num. XIX, 12, Naz. 61ᵇטהרה). —2)delicacy, luxury, enjoyment.—Pl. חִיטּוּיִין. Cant. R. to VII, 2חיטטין (corr. acc.), v. חָטָא I.
Three challenging Bible passages come together in the Jewish calendar in the next two days:
Devarim (Deut 1:1-3:12), the first portion in the Book of Deuteronomy (Deut 1:1-3:12);
Isaiah 1:1-27, the prophetic reading which gives this Shabbat it’s special name, “Shabbat of Vision,” or Shabbat Chazon; and
Eikha, the Book of Lamentations, read on Tisha B’av.
In some years, there are several days between Shabbat Chazon and Tisha B’av — offering a chance for us to take the admonitions to heart before entering into the deepest day of mourning the Jewish calendar and then beginning the slow climb toward the new year. Some years, like this one, leave no space between that last Shabbat of Affliction (or Admonition) and Tisha B’av. So we’re about to enter a complicated couple of days.
Historical and Literary Context
A bit of history is useful for viewing the confluence of readings for Shabbat Chazon and Tisha B’av:
Eikha/Lamentations is probably, current scholarship says, from the middle of the 6th Century BCE, although some parts may be older; the book as a whole is traditionally ascribed to the prophet Jeremiah (c. 650-570 BCE).
Jeremiah was active at the time of King Josiah (c.640-609 BCE), from the 13th year of the young king’s reign through Exile and the destruction of the First Temple. Substantial portions of the Book of Deuteronomy are also linked with King Josiah’s era.
The prophet Isaiah lived a century earlier, with the year 733 BCE a prominent date for his vision… which led him to criticize focus on ritual when what is required is tending to those in need:
Your new moons and your appointed seasons My soul hates…
Your hands are full of blood (stained with crime).
…Seek justice, relieve the oppressed….
How [Eikha] is the faithful city…once full of justice,
righteousness lodged in her, but now murderers!
–Isa 1:14-17, 1:21
How?!
That mournful cry, beginning with the word “Eikha” in Isaiah 1:21, is echoed in both Deuteronomy and the book of that name.
For the record, “eikha” appears only the once in Isaiah, four times in Eikha, and five times in Deuteronomy, plus twice in Jeremiah and once each in four other books of Tanakh. (See handout, “Eikha and Chazon,” below).
Isaiah’s vision prompts us to consider any number of collective crimes. The compressed time period of Shabbat followed immediately by the day of mourning makes it difficult to process or respond. But Isaiah doesn’t just leave us with blood on our hands; he suggests a way forward:
Learn to do good. Devote yourselves to justice; Aid the wronged. Uphold the rights of the orphan; Defend the cause of the widow.
Isaiah 1:17 (see “Isaiah page one” handout, also below)
We can read this message as a simple “do better.” And, of course, that is what we are being told to do. But we must also heed that first commandment: Learn.
For nearly 3000 years, Isaiah has railing at us that we have blood on our hands. And for just as long, the prophet has been telling us that the first step — before trying to undertake the work of justice, provide aid, uphold anyone’s rights, or defend the most vulnerable — is to learn.
We can inform ourselves about the problems and issues. We can listen to the voices of those most affected by crimes in which we have participated, however inadvertently. We can get to know what solutions others are already working to implement. We can learn more about Jewish history, practice, and philosophy to shore up our ability to respond Jewishly — and/or steep ourselves in other traditions that inspire us.
For nearly 3000 years, Jewish tradition has been calling us to do better by learning better.
TRANSLITERATION NOTE: The Hebrew word ” איכה ” is pretty commonly transliterated “eicha” (and this blog often used that spelling in the past); eikha is used here, though, in an effort to make clear the distinction between the chet of “[חזון] chazon” and the khaf of “eikha.”
Handout for Hill Havurah, six-page-PDF includes both “Eicha and Chazon” (5 pages) and “Isaiah page one” (1 page) in one document. Also below: separate pieces.
This week’s Torah reading [July 26, 2022/ 27 Tamuz 5782] includes a series of stages reported like this:
The people-Yisrael set out from [_Place X_] va-yisu bnei-Yisrael and encamped in [_Place Y_ ] va’yachanu E.g., (Num 33:5):
The people-Yisrael set out from Ramses and encamped at Succot. וַיִּסְעוּ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵל מֵרַעְמְסֵס וַֽיַּחֲנוּ בְּסֻכֹּֽת va-yisu bnei-Yisrael mei-ra’amseis va’yachanu b’sukot
This series of journeying stages, or “marches,” begins at the start of the second portion in this week’s double-Torah-reading: Matot (Numbers 30:2-32:42) and Masei (Numbers 33:1- 36:13). The idea of leaving one stage to reach another was reverberating for me while Joni Mitchell sang at the recent Newport Folk Festival:
Late last night, I heard the screen door slam
and a big yellow taxi took away my old man
don’t it always seem to go
you don’t know what you’ve lost til it’s gone
Watching video from Mitchell’s surprise appearance on 7/24/22, I was reminded of something I learned many years ago, from Amy Brookman at Fabrangen Havurah, in reference to the portion Masei: We have to “set out” to get to anywhere new.
From One Stage…
It is now possible to see Mitchell’s “The Last Waltz” performances — The Band’s farewell at Winterland, 11/25/1976 (Thanksgiving) — via The Band on Music Vault. Robbie Robertson and the crowd enthusiastically welcome Mitchell, and she performs three songs: “Coyote,” Shadows and Light,” and “Furry Sings the Blues.” (Details on these pieces at JoniMitchell.com). Earlier Mitchell sings harmony — from backstage — on Neil Young’s “Helpless,” her unseen contributions allowing for her later, proper welcome to the stage. On Mitchell’s third number, Young — who has already performed “Helpless” and “Four Strong Winds” — joins her on harmonica. In short: The Band went to some pains to ensure that both Mitchell and Young were recognized as artists, individually, while also including collaborative performances. Martin Scorcese, however, made other choices for the film.
B/W raw footage from The Band on MV: Mitchell’s “Coyote” with the Band at The Last Waltz
B/W raw footage from The Band on MV: Mitchell’s “Shadow and Light” with The Band at The Last Waltz.
B/W raw footage from The Band on MV: Mitchell’s “Fury Sings the Blues” with the Band at The Last Waltz, plus Neil Young on harmonica.
When Mitchell appears in the 1978 Scorcese documentary, only “Coyote” is included — the film includes only one number from most of the guest performers; and I believe the director made the choices — and she is introduced on the heels of an interview segment called “Women on the Road” (see below). That is, Scorcese chose to place Mitchell’s welcome onto the stage immediately after leering interview remarks from about “women” as objects. To be extra clear: the director of a concert documentary chose to introduce an influential musician and composer with ugly, sexist and unrelated blither, rather than, say, thoughts about musical composition or influences — which the documentary does also include — or just with Robbie Robertson announcing, as in the above raw footage, “Joni Mitchell. Right!” (as the audience yells her name before she appears).
…”The Last Waltz” film includes studio performances by Emmylou Harris and the Staple Singers sisters (Cleotha [1934-2013], Pervis [1935-2021], and Mavis), but Mitchell is the only woman featured on stage during the concert. And I’ve come to think of that image, one woman among a stage full of men, as a kind of encapsulation of how the industry functioned then. (A cropped section of that final stage grouping is the feature image for this blog; description below.) See also footnote from a musician present at the time. [This paragraph was corrected in 2025, clarifying who was on stage in 1976 and who was filmed in studio and added to the film.]…
The film’s presentation of Joni Mitchell has been stuck in my consciousness since I first saw it at a theater in 1977. On the one hand, this was a boorish artistic move by one man; on the other, it was emblematic of a time. In both ways, experience of the film shaped my brain and body, in ways that I can sometimes recognize today and in ways that I probably do not even know. [Raw footage was not available back then, and I was not in the audience.]
….And, for the record: I do love and recommend the movie, for all the anger I harbor toward its director over many of its specifics. It’s available through Kanopy streaming and local libraries. (Rhino offers an extended anniversary soundtrack including numbers originally omitted.)
…to Another
On July 24, 2022 at Newport, Mitchell was surrounded by musicians of different musical backgrounds, gender identities, skin colors, and ages — many of them born long after Mitchell’s last appearance at Newport, in 1969, or her participation in The Band’s “Last Waltz” at Winterland in 1976.
Comparing the two images — Mitchell surrounded by collaborative, supportive (really, adoring) fellow performers in 2022 and Mitchell a powerful, lone woman actively denigrated by the filmmaker (if not her fellow performers) — brought me to that idea, from this week’s Torah portion, of needing to leave one stage in order to get to another. Of course, Mitchell’s reception and introduction in 2022 owes much to the strength of her long career and her personal hard road to physical recovery.
But this is not just a personal progression: We, as a society, had to leave the 1970s to get to later stages in the musical world and beyond. Watching the varied musicians collaborate with Mitchell through “Big Yellow Taxi” and the other numbers shared by Newport Folk Festival, I couldn’t help but think:
yes, often we don’t know what is lost til it’s gone; but sometimes, it’s a blessing to watch that taxi pull away.
Some background footage, FYI:
Here is some material from the film (inexpertly shared, complete with clutter from my den and an annoying lamp reflection):
Beginning: from early in the film — one of the few times we see the director — Martin Scorcese and Robertson talk about “The Last Waltz” concept
1:19 Robertson explains, backstage, that Ronnie Hawkins first hired him saying, “well, son, it doesn’t pay much, but you’ll get more pussy than Frank Sinatra.” This is spliced into the launch of Ronnie Hawkins’ performance on stage.
1:43 “Women on the Road,” as the scene is called on the DVD: backstage interview with band members. At 2:55 Levon Helm (1940-2012) offers “I thought you weren’t supposed to talk about it too much” — earning him my personal, undying gratitude from my teenage years onward. Rick Danko (1943-1999) says something about how “as we’ve grown, so have the women,” and Richard Manuel (1943-1986) just leers.
WARNING: Both Canadian and U.S. Confederate flags appear on the walls in this interview scene. (I don’t know enough about The Band to add any context beyond that most of the band were Canadian born and bred, and they wrote songs about the U.S. South.)
clips from “The Last Waltz” shown, complete with the clutter in my den and annoying lamp reflection
This haphazard presentation of clips from “The Last Waltz” is fair use for purposes of review and discussion; it does not include the actual performance of “Coyote” from the 1978 documentary. The latter is widely available on YouTube, etc. in form that will be easier to enjoy — without violating copyright
L-R in still from 1978 Doc — so all in clothes popular at the time: Dr. John, Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Rick Danko, Robbie Robertson on stage at The Last Waltz concert. Dr. John is wearing a baret and sunglasses, looking at distance. Joni is wearing a long-sleeve leotard-type top and lots of necklaces, looking a little annoyed and (accidentally?) facing the camera. Neil is wearing a t-shirt with an open workshirt over it, smiling in a buzzed kind of way, looking outside the frame. Rick and Robbie are looking down at their guitars, but only Rick’s guitar is visible; both are wearing long-sleeve button-down shirts.
![Hebrew and English words: Tzibur -- public group. community -- kehillah. Folk [Latin and Hebrew characters] Minyan -- quorum. Adah -- congregation. Fellowship -- havurah.](https://songeveryday.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/08/community-words.png)
"A Song Every Day" 