National Scholar Updates

About the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals

Our Institute has an unwavering commitment to the Torah tradition and to the Jewish people. We promote a vision of Orthodox Judaism that is intellectually sound, spiritually compelling, and emotionally satisfying.  Appreciating the amazing diversity within Orthodoxy,  the Institute encourages responsible discussion of issues in Jewish law, philosophy, religious world-view, and communal policy. It sees Judaism as a world religion with a profound message for Jews, and for non-Jews as well. It seeks to apply the ancient wisdom of Judaism to the challenges of contemporary society.

Do you sense that Orthodox Jewish life is

***narrowing its intellectual horizons?

***adopting ever more extreme halakhic positions?

***encouraging undue conformity in dress, behavior and thought?

***fostering an authoritarian system that restricts creative and independent thinking?

***growing more insulated from non-Orthodox Jews and from society in general?

Do you think that Orthodox Jewish life should be

***intellectually alive, creative, inclusive?

***open to responsible discussion and diverse opinions?

***active in the general Jewish community, and in society as a whole?

***engaged in serious and sophisticated Jewish education for children and adults?

***committed to addressing the halakhic and philosophic problems of our times, drawing on the wisdom and experience of diverse Jewish communities throughout history?

If you agree that Orthodoxy can and should create a better intellectual and spiritual climate, please support THE INSTITUTE FOR JEWISH IDEAS AND IDEALS. The Institute works for an intellectually vibrant, compassionate and inclusive Orthodoxy. Together we can reclaim the grand religious world-view of Torah Judaism at its best.

About the Institute

The Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals was founded in October 2007 by Rabbi Dr. Marc D. Angel. Since 1969, Rabbi Angel has served Congregation Shearith Israel, the historic Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue of New York City, and has been Rabbi Emeritus since 2007. He is now devoting himself full time to the work of the Institute, serving as its Director.

Rabbi Angel has a long career of service to his congregation and community. He has served as President of the Rabbinical Council of America, the Rabbinic Alumni of RIETS, Sephardic House, and various other organizations. He is co-founder of the International Rabbinic Fellowship and its first President. He has served as an officer and board member of UJA-Federation of New York, the HealthCare Chaplaincy, American Sephardi Federation, Cancer Care and other agencies. He has won national rabbinic awards from the Union of Orthodox Jewish Congregations and the United Jewish Communities, and the Finkle Award of the New York Board of Rabbis. Author and editor of 38 books and hundreds of articles, he has won a National Jewish Book Award in the category of Jewish Thought for his book,The Orphaned Adult, published by Human Sciences Press; and a National Jewish Book Finalist Award in the field of Sephardic Studies for his book, Foundations of Sephardic Spirituality: The Inner Life of Jews of the Ottoman Empire; and another National Jewish Book Finalist Award for Jewish Scholarship for his book Maimonides, Spinoza and Us: Toward an Intellectually Vibrant Judaism. The latter two books were published by Jewish Lights Publishers.

Rabbi Hayyim Angel joined the Institute's team in 2013 as our National Scholar. He teaches classes, serves as scholar-in-residence in many communities, arranges symposia on a wide range of topics, runs teacher training seminars, and offers many online shiurim on our website jewishideas.org. He teaches advanced Tanakh classes at Yeshiva University. He is author or editor of 19 books, and has published numerous articles. He lectures widely in synagogues and schools throughout North America, and consults with yeshivot worldwide to improve their Tanakh curricula. His most recent book, Cornerstones: The Bible and Jewish Ideology (Kodesh Press, 2020), contains a number of programmatic essays that reflect the ideology of our Institute.

The Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals serves the community through its active and informative website; publication of our journal, Conversations; public lectures and symposia; publication and distribution of books and educational materials; our youtube channel; zoom classes; University Network; Sephardic Initiative; online learning; workshops for rabbis, educators and laity; cooperation with like-minded individuals and organizations to advance the ideals of the Institute; resource for questions relating to Jewish law, worldview, communal policy...and more.

About our website

The Website provides articles, blogs and links to online classes and youtube programs, as well as an online store where you may order books of interest. The section Min haMuvhar includes selections from the writings of Rabbi Marc D. Angel, Founder and Director of the Institute. The Online Learning section includes many of the classes and lectures of Rabbi Hayyim Angel. The website includes articles, blogs, as well as Rabbi Marc Angel's weekly "Angel for Shabbat" column. We hope you will join us in advancing the important goals of the Institute. Your membership in the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals makes you a partner in fostering a more intelligent, compassionate, creative and diverse Orthodox Judaism. Thanks for your partnership in our work.

Why Didn't Pharaoh Listen To His Wise Men?

 

In Parashat Mikketz, Joseph rises to national prominence by interpreting Pharaoh’s dreams and rescuing the country and the surrounding areas from starvation.

            It is odd, though: Pharaoh had a court filled with wise men, educated in the finest institutions of the ancient world. They had offered their own interpretations, but Pharaoh rejected them, opening the path for Joseph: “Next morning, his spirit was agitated, and he sent for all the magicians of Egypt, and all its wise men; and Pharaoh told them his dreams, but none could interpret them for Pharaoh” (Genesis 41:8).

Commentators wonder: How could Pharaoh have known that the interpretations of his wise men were incorrect?

Perhaps Pharaoh simply intuited that their interpretations were lacking. Upon hearing Joseph’s interpretation, the truth resonated with Pharaoh. The Sages refer to this phenomenon as nikkarin divrei emet, truth is evident (Sotah 9b).

Several commentators, including Ramban and Abarbanel, submit that Pharaoh was certain that the two dreams really were manifestations of the same dream. Pharaoh’s wise men erroneously understood them as two separate dreams, whereas only Joseph perceived that they were one (Genesis 41:25, 26, 32).

Rashi suggests that the wise men proposed negative interpretations that Pharaoh did not want to accept. He wanted to hear a more optimistic outlook.

            I would like to offer an alternative possibility that is the opposite of Rashi’s interpretation. Pharaoh’s wise men were on Pharaoh’s payroll, and no doubt benefited substantially for their services. As they needed to please their employer, they always were sure to interpret Pharaoh’s dreams in the most positive possible manner.

            This time, however, Pharaoh believed that his dreams carried an ominous note. He suddenly needed someone with vision and integrity, who would speak the truth. He could not trust his well-paid employees who always said just the right thing.

            Enter Joseph, summoned from prison. To garner the Pharaoh’s favor, he too could have constructed a positive meaning of the dreams, hoping Pharaoh would release him from prison. Instead, he humbly speaks in God’s name, with complete integrity.

            Pharaoh was thunderstruck. He was so used to hearing the same flattering drivel from those who benefited from the royal payroll, that he never encountered a person like Joseph who was humble and filled with vision and integrity. Joseph was a strikingly refreshing voice in Pharaoh’s court: “And Pharaoh said to his courtiers, ‘Could we find another like him, a man in whom is the spirit of God?’” (Genesis 41:38).

            If this interpretation is correct, the episode resembles a later narrative in the Book of Kings. The wicked King Ahab of the Northern Kingdom wanted to go to war against Aram. He consulted his 400 court prophets, who all knew exactly what the king wanted to hear: “‘March,’ they said, ‘and the Lord will deliver [Aram] into Your Majesty’s hands’” (I Kings 22:6).

The righteous King Jehoshaphat of the South, however, was not deceived by the groupthink of these so-called prophets. Instead, he insisted on finding an independent prophet of God who would speak a true vision. Ahab begrudgingly conceded that there was one true prophet, Micaiah—but Ahab hated him because he always prophesied negatively.

            Sure enough, Micaiah prophesied that Ahab would perish were he to go to war. But the king had a choice—he could heed the prophet and opt not to go to war! Sadly for the wicked King Ahab, he followed his court prophets and perished in that battle.

In our Genesis narrative, Pharaoh was wiser than that. Through his listening to Joseph’s challenging interpretation, Pharaoh rescued his kingdom. Well-paid wise men on Pharaoh’s payroll were unreliable interpreters of critical events. The visionary Joseph, willing to speak a potentially unpopular truth to an all-powerful ruler, prevailed.

 

Eternal Reward: A Parable

A righteous person dies and the soul is brought before the Heavenly tribunal. The Almighty, seeing that this person had lived an exemplary life, gives options.

“In light of your righteousness, you may choose the section of heaven in which to spend eternity. You may opt for your soul to dwell among the great sages of Israel, the finest Torah scholars of all generations.

“I do not choose this.”

Somewhat surprised, the Almighty then offers: “Your soul may dwell among the righteous rulers of the world, those who led their people with honesty and humility.”

“I do not choose this.”

A third offer: “Your soul may dwell among the famous philanthropists who piously shared their wealth with the poor, who financed great institutions for the betterment of humanity.”

“I do not choose this.”

A fourth offer: “Your soul may dwell among famous, brilliant, respected people of all nations who lived righteously.”

“I do not choose this.”

The Almighty then said: “I have offered you wonderful choices and you have rejected them. Where then would you like your soul to dwell for eternity?”

“I would like my soul to be with my parents and grandparents.”

“But they were simple people. They were not scholars; they were not powerful; they were not rich; they were not famous. They were quiet souls who lived quiet lives. I am offering your soul to be in the presence of the souls of much greater people.”

“I would like my soul to be with my parents and grandparents. They lived pure and good lives. They maintained Torah in the face of many obstacles. They did not hurt anyone. They sacrificed greatly to live as pious Jews. They were abused and cheated and disdained; but their faith was strong. Without my parents and grandparents and the millions of other anonymous quiet souls who kept the flame of Judaism alive over all the generations, I would not have been able to live my life as I did. I would like my soul to be with them.”

The Almighty smiled. “You have chosen wisely. It is precisely their section of heaven that is the highest and most blessed. It is precisely due to your parents and grandparents and the millions of other quiet pious souls that I have not given up entirely on humanity.”

And the soul of the righteous person was bound up in eternal life, along with the souls of parents, grandparents and the millions of other quiet pious souls who sustain God’s hope for humanity.

 

Bars, Gifts to Children, Covid Shots: Rabbi M. Angel Replies to Questions from the Jewish Press

Is it proper to have drinks in a bar?

People will decide for themselves if it’s proper to have drinks in a bar, and under what circumstances they may decide to do so.

But speaking for myself, I think one should avoid entering a bar to have drinks. Bars, by definition, are places where people gather to drink alcoholic beverages…a classic place for idle chatter, gossip, excessive frivolity. There are better, finer places for socializing.

The popularity of bars is a reflection of prevalent hedonism in general society. By patronizing bars, we would be endorsing a set of values very much at odds with Torah values.

Drinking strong liquor, while perhaps appropriate in small quantities on Shabbat or special occasions, is something that should not be encouraged…not only in bars, but at home, in shul or anywhere else.

Rambam (Hilkhot De’ot 5:3) states: “One who becomes intoxicated is a sinner and is despicable, and loses his wisdom. If he [a wise person] becomes drunk in the presence of common folk, he has thereby desecrated the Name.” In his section on the Laws of Holiday Rest (6:20), Rambam rules: “When one eats, drinks and celebrates on a festival, he should not allow himself to become overly drawn to drinking wine, amusement and silliness…for drunkenness and excessive amusement and silliness are not rejoicing; they are frivolity and foolishness.”

It’s fine to drink in moderation and on special occasions. It’s not fine to drink excessively or in a hedonistic environment.

 

Is it proper to give children expensive presents for Chanukah? What about just gelt?

 

Why do we give presents on birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and other special occasions? Ideally, our gifts stem from the desire to express good feelings toward the recipients: we are thinking of you, we love you, we want you to be happy.

Giving gifts on Hanukkah, as on other special occasions, is a way of enhancing excitement and happiness. Children internalize the joyous spirit of the day. The holiday is forever linked in their minds with happiness.

The value of gifts isn’t to be measured in dollars. An inexpensive present that the child really enjoys is better than an expensive present that the child will seldom or never use.

 For our children and older grandchildren, we give checks. They know best what they want. With our younger grandchildren, we generally give their parents money to buy each of them a present that they would really like.

“Expensive” is a relative term. For wealthy people it means one thing; for less wealthy or poor people it means something else. It also depends on how many children and grandchildren will be receiving gifts. The goal should be to find the right level of giving based on one’s own financial situation. Giving overly expensive gifts may not only be a financial burden on the givers; this may also lead to spoiling the recipients so that they keep expecting more and more with each passing holiday.

Rambam taught the importance of following the “middle path” that strives for a balanced approach to life. This lesson is important also in the realm of gift-giving.  Happy Hanukkah!

 

Is it proper to be less than forthcoming about your vaccination status to avoid machloket or harassment?

 

I hope that all our readers are fully vaccinated and have also received booster shots. Given the seriousness of the covid 19 pandemic, it is essential for all of us to protect ourselves to the extent possible. Vaccinations are important not only for our personal health, but for the health of our family and associates. How tragic it is to learn about unvaccinated or under-vaccinated people who contract covid, who suffer, who die, who transmit the virus to their loved ones…all of which could have been prevented by having gotten vaccinated.

Everyone should know if the people near them are properly vaccinated. This is not merely a matter of idle curiosity, but could be a matter of life and death. A person who is asked about vaccination status should answer promptly and accurately. Truthfulness enables others to make responsible decisions.

Unfortunately, a great deal of contradictory information is available about the necessity of vaccinations. In spite of the recommendations of the leading medical experts, there are “anti-vaxxers” who vocally resist getting shots and who urge others not to get vaccinated. If they choose not to vaccinate, they should let the rest of us know. Life is dangerous enough without us having to be in close contact with people who choose not to protect themselves via the available vaccines.

 

To Be a Holy People: Review of New Book by Rabbi Eugene Korn

To Be a Holy People: Jewish Tradition and Ethical Values, by Eugene Korn (Urim Publications, 2021)

 

Reviewed by Israel Drazin

 

(Rabbi Dr. Israel Drazin is a retired US Army Brigadier General. His latest book is “Mysteries of Judaism V: More than 150 Mistaken Ideas about God and the Bible”.)

 

Most people, Jews and non-Jews, think that Judaism prefers that Jews observe Jewish Law, called halakha, rather than ethics, and if the two come in conflict the Jew must follow the halakha. Rabbi Dr. Eugene Korn shows in his excellent easy to understand book that they are wrong.

 

What is Jewish Ethics? How does it differ from Jewish law?

 

Three things must be understood about Jewish Ethics. The first is to recognize that the goal of the Torah is proper behavior and many practices were essential only in the early history of the Jewish people. For example, the Torah requires certain procedures in regard to sacrifices, but Jewish tradition has understood that the Bible wants people to behave properly with one another not spend time trying to please God.

 

Second, we need to identify overarching values such as the Tzelem Elokim, the image of God which is implanted in all human beings, Jews and non-Jews, as reflected in Genesis 1:26. The concept of Tzelem Elokim proclaims that human life has immeasurable value. Mishna Sanhedrin 4:5 states it clearly: “One who saves a single life is [i.e. morally equivalent to] as if he saves the entire world; one who destroys a single life is as if he destroys the entire world.”

 

Another significant value is to implement justice as required in Deuteronomy 16:20 “Justice, justice you shall pursue.” Others include love of neighbor in Leviticus 19:18, holiness in Leviticus 19:2, peace as emphasized in Isaiah 57:19, and the general concept of moral rightness and goodness in Deuteronomy 6:18.

 

Still other fundamental guiding value in Jewish ethics include the imperative to imitate God, to clothe the naked, feed the poor, visit the sick, comfort mourners, and perform acts of loving-kindness – because Jewish tradition understood that God did these acts. Another, one that recognizes that the commandments were not the goal but a path toward the goal, is lifnim mishurat ha-din, going beyond the requirements of the commandments, the halakha. Another aspect of Jewish ethics is Tikkun Olam, commonly translated repairing the world, the requirement to be active, to improve one’s self and society, not to sit passively studying halakha or praying or reciting Psalms.

 

The third item that must be understood about Jewish Ethics is that its final objective, the vision that animates the commands and the ethics they teach, is the messianic vision of a society suffused with peace and justice. The goal of the commandments is not the doing of the command; the goal, indeed the purpose of the command is to live ethically according the above-mentioned values.

 

The ancient rabbis recognized the importance of ethics. They said such things as Derekh erets kadmah l’Torah, “Proper behavior preceded the Torah itself.” And R. Yohanan said, “Jerusalem was destroyed only because [Jews] judged according to the law of the Torah.” In essence, R. Yohanan’s assertion is saying that Jews who wrap themselves in a life of halakha, ignoring Jewish Ethics are laying the groundwork to Judaism’s destruction.

 

The classic example of Jewish ethics vs. “the law of the Torah” is the story of Shimon ben Shetach in the Palestinian Talmud Baba Metsi’a 2:5. Simeon ben Shetach, circa 140-60 BCE, was a Pharisee scholar and Nasi of the Sanhedrin, i.e. head of the seventy-one-member court. His students bought a donkey for him from a non-Jewish trader. After the sale, they found a precious gem on it. They told their teacher that he was now rich and did not need to work anymore. Their teacher asked if the trader knew about the gem. “No,” they replied. He then said. “Go and return it.” His students argued, “Is it not the law that you are permitted to keep the gem?” Shimon ben Shetach answered them: “Do you think that Shimon ben Shetach is a barbarian?”

 

We should note that it is clear, beyond dispute, that halakha allowed the teacher to keep the jewel. But Shimon ben Shetach knew that following the law was morally wrong and he must “go beyond the strict line of the law.” His use of the term “barbarian” is shocking, but it indicates his moral outrage,” an outrage against those who follow the law when morality is demanded.

 

The prophets stressed ethical behavior before Shimon ben Shetach. Micah wrote in 6:8, “It has been told to you man what is good, and what the Lord requires of you; only to act justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.” Zechariah proclaimed in 7:8-9, “This is what the Lord almighty said, ‘Administer true justice; show mercy and compassion to one another.’” These are example of many similar statements, none of which mention halakha. 

 

The rabbis continued the teachings of the prophets. Shimon Ben Azzai of the second century CE asserted that the basic teaching of the Torah is that all humans were created in the image of God, as stated in Genesis 6:1, “God created man. In the likeness of God, He made him.” Rabbi Akiva (50 CE -135) said that Leviticus 19:18 has the Torah’s basic teaching, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Hillel (circa 110 BCE-10 CE) said it this way to a would-be convert to whom he was teaching Judaism, “That which is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. That is the whole of the Torah, the rest is explanation, go and learn,” Nachmanides (1194-1270) explained that Leviticus 19:2’s “You shall be holy” and Deuteronomy 6:18’s “You shall do what is right and good in God’s eyes” requires Jews to go beyond the requirements of halakha and promote human welfare, interpersonal relations, and protect individual interests fairly. Maimonides (1038-1204) before him said the same.

 

It should be clear that a central purpose of halakha is the realization of moral values. But this realization does not go far enough. Jewish ethics needs to honor tradition while taking into account the modern sensibilities of justice and equality. The ancient rabbis did it by doing away with slavery, sacrifices, allowing interest on certain loans, stopping executions, turning “an eye for an eye” into monetary compensation, and dozens of other practices. Rabbi Shlomo Goren, the first head of the military rabbinate in the Israel Defense Force (1917-1994), ruled for the IDF, “God forbid that those laws [in the Torah] are applied to non-biblical wars or wars of our times.” We need to copy the initiatives of the rabbis who stressed Jewish Ethics and urge them to do more.

 

“Like the Torah itself, Jewish ethics may have started at Sinai, but it no longer resides there. The Torah and our talmudic rabbis tell us Lo ba’shamayim hi – “It is not in heaven” (Deuteronomy 30:12). Jewish life, and the possibilities of holiness and ethics are in our hands. There is much that still needs to be done. While the fundamental Jewish values of justice and mercy are eternal, how, when, and if they are realized are up to us.

 

My Moroccan Succoth

My father, of blessed memory, was born and raised in the Mellah of Marrakesh. All of the Moroccan traditions I practice on Sukkot are customs I learned and inherited from him.

Those special Moroccan traditions – which I grew up with and practice to this day – adorn Sukkot with an aesthetic beauty and mystical spirituality all its own.

In my Moroccan tradition, the Lulav is far more than the plain spine of a palm branch. Upon bringing it home from the store, the first thing we do is decorate the Lulav with golden threads or ribbons. This is based on a unique tradition dating back to the Mishnah, where it says “The People of Jerusalem bound their Lulavs with strands of gold” (Mishnah Sukkah 3:8). How did this Jerusalem tradition arrive in Morocco? The simple answer would be that someone from Jerusalem brought it there. I think otherwise. If you’ve ever been to a Moroccan Shabbat dinner and seen how we adorn our tables with a colorful array of foods, it makes sense that we’d be attracted to a tradition that decorates our Lulav! As a child, I loved watching my father decorate my Lulav, but that Moroccan custom now belongs to my Ashkenazi wife Peni, who does it with love and her unique creative flair. 

Fresh from decorating the Lulav, we enter the Sukkah, often with the spool of golden ribbons still in our hands. Bamboo sticks – not palm fronds – sit above our heads. My father taught me that in his family, the Sukkah was treated as more than a temporary dwelling place or dining room. It was a sacred space modeled after the Mishkan (Tabernacle), Judaism’s original portable sanctuary. In that spirit, the décor of our Moroccan Sukkah – a colorful assortment of fabrics and materials – was inspired by the Torah’s commandment to hang in the Mishkan “a curtain made of blue, purple and crimson cloths” (Exodus 26:31). It probably helped that my grandfather sold fabrics for a living! The colorful fabrics are fastened to the Sukkah’s walls with decorative hooks, and the golden ribbons left over from decorating the Lulav help line the fabric adorned walls. Moroccan lanterns made of bronze or copper hang as the Sukkah’s light fixtures. Upon entering my Moroccan Sukkah, I always feel the striking blend of colors and lights exuding a warmth that is at once physical and spiritual.

A special custom practiced by my father’s family was hanging a small “Elijah’s Chair” in the Sukkah. My father’s grandfather was Rabbi Yosef Pinto, a Kabbalist descended from a long line of mystics originally from Spain. Rabbi Pinto taught my father that the reason we hang Elijah’s Chair in the Sukkah is because Elijah the Prophet is the primary teacher of Kabbalah for saintly Moroccan Kabbalists, and on Sukkot, we hope that the spirit of Elijah’s sacred teachings permeates our Sukkah. Perhaps my great-grandfather learned this from Elijah himself?

Elijah’s Chair was decorated with colorful Moroccan pillows, and it was customary to place various special Sukkot-related books on those pillows.

 

One of these special books is “Hamad Elohim” (God’s Desire), a Sephardic liturgical book devoted entirely to Sukkot.  “Hamad Elohim” was the “official Sukkot book” for my father’s family, and it remains that for my family today. The book is divided into seven sets of Kabbalistic texts read each night, corresponding to the “Seven Ushpizin” – the seven “special guests” (Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Aaron, Joseph and David) we invite to our Sukkah. My family welcomes each “special guest” by reading and chanting “Hamad Elohim’s” mystical texts in honor of that night’s guest.

I have fond memories of sitting with my father and reading from his “Hamad Elohim” every night of Sukkot. The pages radiated a unique aura of spirituality, and my father’s sweet chanting animated every sentence on the page. Reading “Hamad Elohim” with my father transported me back to the Sukkot of his upbringing in Marrakech, but it also helped bring the beautiful Moroccan customs from this book into my own Jewish life here in America.

One of those special customs is the “Tikkun Leil Hoshana Rabah,” the all-night Torah study and celebration on the last night of Sukkot. Inspired by the Talmudic description of Hoshana Rabah as an all-night celebration in the Temple in Jerusalem, the Kabbalists turned this last night of Sukkot into a beautiful all night event in the Sukkah. My father’s family hosted the “Tikkun Leil Hoshana Rabah” in their Sukkah for his community in Marrakesh. His description of the evening included a dazzling array of sweet pastries, fresh and dried fruits, and lots of Moroccan Mint Tea with Nana. Of course, there was the presence and Torah teachings of his grandfather, Rabbi Yosef Pinto.

While my upbringing in America and the Sukkah in my own family life lacked the presence of my saintly great-grandfather, we continue to study Torah and eat delicious Moroccan pastries in the Sukkah on Hoshana Rabah. 

My father’s favorite Sukkot song was “Sukkah Ve-Lulav,” a Kabbalistic poem composed in Meknes, Morocco by Rabbi Moshe Adahan in the 18th century. With its rhythmic stanzas and joyous tunes, “Sukkah Ve-Lulav” expresses our ultimate state of happiness in observing this beautiful holiday. “Let Israel rejoice in the shade of God’s Sukkah,” we sing, and “Happy are the pure of heart who set their intentions on the secret essence of the Lulav and its accompanying species.” 

In January 1993, one week after Peni and I got married, my father gave us a special gift – his “Hamad Elohim” Sukkot book from Morocco. In the personal inscription, written in a beautiful Hebrew, my father wrote to us: “This copy of Hamad Elohim belonged to my beloved father Shalom Bouskila of blessed memory. I’ve held onto this book for forty years, and I now hope that you will hold onto it for many more years, using it every year on Sukkot. May the Seven Ushpizin always protect you.” 

Our kids grew up with my father’s “Hamad Elohim” in our Sukkah, along with all of his family’s beautiful Moroccan Sukkot traditions. 

I’m proud that we’ve kept these beautiful traditions alive, and look forward to the day when we will inscribe something in our “Hamad Elohim” and pass it on to our kids.

In the spirit of Sukkot, that brings me tremendous joy.

 

 

Rabbi M. Angel Replies to Questions from the Jewish Press

Is it proper for one to be overly familiar and casual with his/her parents?

 

 Jewish law and tradition emphasize the honor and respect due to parents. Being overly familiar and casual with parents e.g. calling them by their first names, is a breach in proper conduct.

When I grew up among the Sephardim of Seattle, it was expected that children would not only act respectfully to parents, but that we would be deferential to elders and teachers.  The traditional societal structure encouraged a hierarchical system, where the younger generations were imbued with a sense of respect for the older generations. We were not “equals.”

As time has moved on, there has been an increasing societal pressure toward “egalitarianism,” where the traditional hierarchies have been challenged. We now find children addressing parents, teachers and elders by their first names. This isn’t only about names; it’s about an attitude: we are all basically equal, and no one has to defer to anyone else.  While some loosening of the old hierarchical system has positive value, too much loosening leads to an erosion of respect for authority in general.

For a family—and society—to function optimally, it is vital for children and parents to enjoy positive and warm relationships. Austere and authoritarian parenting is not in the best interest of either parents or children. But neither is overly casual and informal parenting to be desired.

Maintaining a proper balance is not always easy…but it is the best way of fostering healthy families and a healthy society.

 

 

 

Is it proper for a husband/father or wife/mother to leave their family for an extended period of time (say, over a month)?

 

 

Ideally, parents and children should live happily and peacefully in harmonious households. Extended separations from family are generally not in the best interest of the parties involved.

 

But we don’t live in an ideal world, and various non-ideal situations arise that may necessitate separations from the family unit. It sometimes happens that one must travel on extended business trips in order to maintain family financial health. While it would be nice to earn a living without having to travel, not everyone can manage this.

 

In unfortunate cases of physical or emotional abuse, it may be necessary for the victim to separate from the abuser until the situation can be ameliorated. Separation in extreme cases is not only proper, but absolutely necessary.

 

It is best to follow the advice of Hillel, as recorded in the Pirkei Avot: Don’t judge others until you find yourself in their same situation.

 

 

Is it proper to give an aliya to one who has a seiruv issued against them by a reputable beit din?

And generally how should one interact with such a person?

 

When issued a summons by a reputable beth din, one is obligated to show up. If the beth din ultimately issues a seiruv, the person should face communal disapproval unless there is good reason behind the refusal to appear. Each case needs to be evaluated on its own merits.

When it comes to the area of gittin, a “get” should never be used as a bargaining chip. Once a marriage has broken up, both husband and wife must arrange for a “get” promptly. Their issues of contention over children or property should be settled in a beth din or civil court.

A man who is summoned by a reputable beth din to issue a “get” must comply. If he refuses and the beth din issues a “seiruv,” the man should be treated as though in “herem.” He certainly should not be given an Aliyah or any communal honor. In my view, he should not even be allowed into a synagogue. He should be shunned in business and avoided socially.

It is especially painful to learn of men who attempt to extort money from their wife or her family before agreeing to give a “get.” Such reprehensible behavior not only reflects on the corrupt nature of the man, but casts discredit on the halakhic system that allows or tolerates such corruption.

The “agunah” problem could be ameliorated if all couples are required to sign a binding pre-nuptial agreement that stipulates that both parties will agree to a “get” if, Heaven forbid, the marriage ends in divorce. A recalcitrant party will face heavy and expensive penalties. There are halakhically approved pre-nuptial agreements available from the Rabbinical Council of America and other responsible rabbinic groups.

If you have children of marriageable age, please make sure they insist on a pre-nuptial agreement before their wedding. Much suffering could be avoided if proper precautions are taken early.

 

 Is it proper to spend time on social media?

Assuming we live to age 90 and sleep an average of 8 hours per night, we spend 30 years of our lives asleep. We spend many additional years at work; and other years on our basic bodily needs, waiting on lines, shopping, going to the doctor and dentist, dealing with illness etc. If we spend one hour a day watching television or on social media, that’s another 1/24th of our lives gone.

Time is our most precious commodity. It is limited and irreplaceable. If we keep this in mind, we will be very careful in how we utilize the time that the Almighty grants us.

Having said this, it is important for each person to decide for him/herself how much time to devote to social media. In many cases, people use social media to stay in touch with family and friends who live far from each other. Without this means of communication, these relationships would suffer. In other cases, people turn to social media to keep up with news, communal events, and items of general interest.

While each person should not squander precious time by overusing social media, neither should anyone decide what is or isn’t proper for anyone else. Each person has the right—and responsibility—to use his and her time in the way that seems best in their personal judgment.

Thoughts on Parashat Vayelekh

In Parashat Vayeilekh, the fourth aliyah seems to be out of place. The beginning of the Parasha is about Moshe preparing B'nei Yisrael to enter Israel without him, and telling them that Yehoshua will be their new leader. All of a sudden, Moshe introduces a new commandment to them, the commandant of Hakhel. In Devarim 31:10-13, Moshe describes this mitzvah. Every seventh year on Succot, all of B'nei Yisrael should go to the place that Hashem will choose and listen to the Torah so that they will fear Hashem. 

There are a few glaring questions: why does Moshe randomly tell B'nei Yisrael this new Mitzvah when they are about to enter Israel? What does Sehmitah have to do with this? How will reading the Torah make us fear Hashem?

In order to fully understand this problem, we need to answer these questions in reverse order. Why will hearing the Torah make B'nei Yisrael fear Hashem? Because all of B'nei Yisrael gathered together should remind us of Har Sinai. The events at Har Sinai created our relationship with Hashem, which involves fear. There’s only one problem with this answer. At Har Sinai, there was thunder and lightning so of course we were scared! 

This is where Shemitah comes in. To an ordinary person, Shemitah sounds very strange. We should take a whole year to not work the fields? How are we going to make money or get food! Fulfilling the commandment of Shemitah requires the utmost fear of and reliance on Hashem. Hakhel is essentially recreating this historic moment to renew our relationship with Hashem. So when B'nei Yisrael are gathered all together and hear the Torah at the end of the Shemitah year, they have two big reminders of why we should fear Hashem while they hear the Torah. Obviously this gathering won’t be as dramatic as Har Sinai itself, but it will have a similar outcome.

Now to the last and most troubling question: why did Moshe mention this now just before his death? Moshe mentioned this now because B'nei Yisrael’s lives were about to be transformed by losing Moshe, who was the living reminder of their connection to Hashem. Once gone, B'nei Yisrael might not take their relationship with Hashem as seriously. This Mitzvah is actually the perfect exit speech for Moshe since it was meant to remind B'nei Yisrael of Har Sinai. With this taste of the most important moment in Jewish History, B'nei Yisrael would maintain their relationship with Hashem.  Moshe needed to tell them this Mitzvah now so that they stay connected in the future when he would no longer be with them. Another crucial factor of this Mitzvah is to continue it in the future for the coming generations to get that same taste of Har Sinai as inspiration to have a special relationship with Hashem and fulfill his commandments.

I heard this Dvar Torah from Ami Silver who works for Aleph Beta.

Thoughts on Albert Einstein

     

   When Albert Einstein was a little boy, his father showed him a compass. The needle pointed north no matter which way Einstein turned the compass around. This amazed the child. In his autobiography published in 1949, Einstein recalls his feelings on that occasion. “The needle behaved in such a determined way and did not fit into the usual explanation of how the world works. That is that you must touch something to move it. I still remember now, or I believe that I remember, that this experience made a deep and lasting impression on me. There must be something deeply hidden behind everything.”

     But more than his amazement about the compass, Einstein gained another insight. “Why do we come, sometimes spontaneously, to wonder about something? I think that wondering to one’s self occurs when an experience conflicts with our fixed ways of seeing the world.”

     Albert Einstein (1879-1955) was one of humanity’s greatest geniuses, a man whose mind plumbed the depths of universe. But his greatness transcended his being gifted with an extraordinary IQ: he had imagination; he wondered about things; he let his mind drift in new and unexpected pathways. He remarked: “Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world” (Einstein on Cosmic Religion, p. 97).

     Einstein believed that the sense of wonder is an essential foundation for human creativity. “The fairest thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion which stands at the cradle of true art and true science. He who knows it not and can no longer wonder, no longer feel amazement, is as good as dead, a snuffed-out candle” (The World as I See It, p. 7). In one of his famous aphorisms, he asserted: “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

     Although Einstein was a deeply religious man, but in his own sense of the word “religion.”  He believed in a cosmic religious sense. “This is hard to make clear to those who do not experience it, since it does not involve an anthropomorphic ideas of God; the individual feels the vanity of human desires and aims, and the nobility and marvelous order which are revealed in nature and in the world of thought” (Einstein on Cosmic Religion, p. 48). He did not subscribe to the classic dogmas and rituals of religion, but was drawn to a cosmic God who is manifested in the awesome orderliness and vastness of nature. “The basis of all scientific work is the conviction that the world is an ordered and comprehensive entity, which is a religious sentiment. My religious feeling is a humble amazement at the order revealed in the small patch of reality to which our feeble intelligence is equal” (Ibid., p. 98). He was convinced that “the cosmic religious experience is the strongest and noblest driving force behind scientific research. The only deeply religious people of our largely materialistic are the earnest men of research” (Ibid. pp. 52, 54).

     He described his own understanding of religiosity: “A knowledge of the existence of something we cannot penetrate, of the manifestations of the profoundest reason and the most radiant beauty, which are only accessible to our reason in their most elementary forms—it is this knowledge and this emotion that constitute the truly religious attitude; in this sense, and in this alone, I am a deeply religious man” (The World as I See It, p. 7).

     Einstein, while proud of his Jewish identity, was not particularly observant of Jewish religious traditions. His religious focus remained “cosmic,” not particularistic. He tended to view Judaism (and “organized” religion in general) as being bogged down in dogmas and rituals, not centered on cosmic religion. Einstein’s cosmic religious sense infused his scientific work.

     His papers on general and special relativity led to a dramatic revolution in scientific thought. In 1922 he was awarded the Nobel Prize for his work in physics.

     When Hitler came to power, Einstein realized there was no future for Jews in Germany. He settled in the United States, and was appointed head of the Institute for Advanced Study at Princeton University. While philosophically aligned with pacifism, he played a significant role in having the United States develop atomic weapons.

     Along with his intellectual and scientific work, Einstein was famous for his advocacy of ethics, social justice, and human rights. He identified with the Zionist movement, which offered Jews the possibility of living in their own land of Israel. Given the prevalence of anti-Semitism, he understood that Jews needed a safe haven where they could live as dignified and free human beings. He lent his name to the establishment of the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, and was hopeful that the Jewish return to their ancient homeland would usher in a new era of Jewish creativity.

     He became a member of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, and campaigned for the civil rights movement in America. In 1946, Einstein was awarded an honorary degree by Lincoln University in Pennsylvania—a historically black college. In his address on that occasion, he spoke about the scourge of racism in America, stating that “I do not intend to be quiet about it.” And he wasn’t.

     He viewed his Jewishness as a foundation of his humanitarian outlook.  He noted: “The pursuit of knowledge for its own sake, an almost fanatical love of justice, and the desire for personal independence—these are the features of the Jewish tradition which make me thank my stars that I belong to it” (The World as I See It, p. 103).  He believed that “the bond that has united the Jews for thousands of years and that unites them today is, above all, the democratic ideal of social justice, coupled with the ideal of mutual ad and tolerance among all men” (Ideas and Opinions, p. 195).

     While stressing the long-standing Jewish commitment to social justice, Einstein lamented the general moral decay which he felt was setting into society.  “One misses the elementary reaction against injustice and for justice—that reaction which in the long run represents man’s only protection against a relapse into barbarism” (Out of My Later Years, p. 10). He felt that technological advances gave humans great powers—but that if these powers were misused, then catastrophe would ensue. He was optimistic that humanity had the ability to achieve a better world. “If we desire sincerely and passionately the safety, the welfare and the free development of the talents of all men, we shall not be in want of the means to approach such a state” (Ibid., p. 113).

     Einstein sought a Grand Unified Theory that would explain the workings of the universe in a comprehensive way. He was convinced of the ultimate orderliness and unity of nature. In spite of his mighty brain and his tremendous efforts, he was unable to achieve his goal. But he pointed the way for others who would continue the search.

                                                                   *     *     *

            When I was a student at Yeshiva College, I wanted to gain an understanding of Einstein’s theories of relativity so I enrolled in a philosophy of science class. The professor was excellent; the readings were enlightening; the assignments were challenging. I was a diligent student—but I was unable to fully grasp Einstein’s theories.

            In the process of my readings for the class, I came across a passage from Einstein that was more important to me than my failed efforts to understand relativity. The passage reflected Einstein’s genius, humility, and ultimate optimism. “Our lives are so small that we are too often in our solitude like children crying in the dark. Nevertheless our little solitude is a great and august solitude in which we can contemplate things that are greater than mankind.”

            And if that is all that I learned from the class, I have no complaints.

 

References:

Einstein On Cosmic Religion and Other Opinions and Aphorisms, Dover Publications, Mineola, 2009.

Essays in Humanism, Philosophical Library, New York, 1978.

Ideas and Opinions, Three Rivers Press, New York, 1954.

Out of My Later Years, Citadel Press, Secaucus, 1956.

The World as I See It, Citadel Press, New York, 2006.