National Scholar Updates

In his study of the killer heat wave that struck Chicago in 1995, Eric Klinenberg found that elderly people died especially when they lacked social networks.  The heat was just as deadly, but the old men and women who lived alone survived, in general, if they had someone to look in on them, to call them, or to ask how they were doing.  Without that minimal level of social contact, they were much less likely to survive.   You can read Klienberg’s conclusions in his book, Heat Wave: A Social Autopsy of Disaster in Chicago. 

Like the Chicago heat wave, the coronavirus pandemic seems more deadly for the old than for the young.  It seems probable that it will, again like the heat wave, especially strike socially isolated people.  The visitor who asks after someone’s health could well make the difference between survival and death.  But now, faced with the corona virus, we all need to isolate ourselves, to limit our meetings with people.  We must not pay physical visits to our neighbors; telecommunications must replace physical visits.

Observant Jews, however, generally will avoid using telecommunications devices for three consecutive days next week: two days of Yom Tov running right into Shabbat (a little easier in Israel, with only one day of Yom Tov).   For an old person living alone, those three days might prove deadly.   Even for a couple, if one of the two must go the hospital, the other will remain at home, isolated, worried, not expecting to communicate  with anyone.

Perhaps, under these circumstances, observant Jews must use telecommunications to keep tabs on isolated neighbors, friends, or relatives.  Observant Jews in isolation must decide whether to use devices to call on their support systems.

What guidance can we offer to people facing these decisions?

I trust that your local rabbi has extensive knowledge of the intricacies of halakhah, the rules of Jewish observance.  However, this question does not depend on the intricacies of halakhah.  It does depend on your assessment of the reality: How frail is Aunt Sadie? Might Uncle Harry remember to take his medicine? What could happen if I get seriously depressed?

No one absolutely knows how to assess this reality. It depends, to some extent, on guesswork.  You have to act or not act based on incomplete knowledge.  You – whether you are frail and isolated, or whether you know someone in that category, you have to decide.  What should you do?

Consider what the Talmud advises in a possibly related case:

If a child gets locked in a room on Shabbat, the Talmud rules that one must chop down the door to free the child.  Whoever does this more quickly deserves praise, and one does not need to ask permission from a rabbinic court (Yoma 84b).

Later authorities codify this ruling (Rambam Shabbat 2:17; Shulhan Arukh, Orah Hayyim 328:13).  R. Yosef Karo adds “whoever asks (for permission in such a situation) spills blood” (Orah Hayyim 328:2). R. Y. M. Epstein goes further: “Whoever is asked spills blood.”  Why?  If the student asks whether to intervene instead of acting at once, that shows that the teacher “should have taught the public that intervening to protect life takes precedence over the laws of Shabbat”   (Arukh HaShulhan, Orah Hayyim 328:1).

Do you feel conflicted about whether to call on your neighbor, or to call your neighbor for help? Rabbi Eugene Korn puts the answer to this dilemma succinctly: “In the end, after taking in as much halakhic knowledge as we can, it is a personal decision because only the people directly involved can best assess the gravity of the potential pikuach nefesh (intervention to protect life) status of  Aunt Sadie.”

Rabbi Korn continues: “I would also add that if we are placed in an existential dilemma like this, it is better to be  machmir (strict) on safek pikuach nefesh (a doubtful need to intervene to protect life) than on lo tivaru aish” (“do not light a fire on Shabbat”.Exodus 35:3 or whatever other prohibition may exist on using telecommunication on Shabbat).

Yoel Finkelman wisely suggests that rabbis do have a role in the determination:

Perhaps the job of rabbis, who know the halakhah but not necessarily the reality, is to guide people who know more about their friends and relatives to be willing to pick up the phone. The prohibition is deeply ingrained and visceral. People will need help to believe that they can and should reach out using electronic devices.

In short, to use a phrase from the Talmud: “Be more strict about danger than about prohibitions.”

The ancient and so-far uncured disease of “anti-Semitism” is reflected in Megillat Esther.  Haman tells the king: “There is a certain people scattered abroad and dispersed among the peoples in all the provinces of your kingdom; and their laws are diverse from those of every people; neither keep they the king’s laws; therefore it profits not the king to let them be.” (Esther 3:8). Haman’s description of the situation is insidious and hateful. It slanders the Jewish people who, although they follow their own religious laws, also are law-abiding people who follow the king’s laws.

The disease of anti-Semitism has persisted through the generations and continues today, with all its false accusations, paranoia and dangerous consequences. How are we to cope with this deep-seated irrationalism? How are we to explain this to our children and grandchildren?

                                                                     *   *   *

Each generation of Jewish parents and grandparents seems to face the same dilemma. We teach our children and grandchildren that all humans are created in the image of God; that we should respect and assist others; that love of God necessarily entails love of God’s creations.

Yet, these right and proper teachings are challenged by the realities which our children and grandchildren witness with their own eyes. They see thousands of missiles shot at Israel by Hamas terrorists with the aim of killing as many Jews as possible. They see throngs of Palestinians cheering as missiles are launched to murder Jews. They hear the rantings of the President of Iran who calls for the annihilation of Israel. They read of anti-Semitic diatribes and attacks by anti-Semites throughout the world. They see the large number of countries at the United Nations who consistently vote against Israel, who consistently side with those who would destroy Israel. They know of the so-called humanitarian groups and journalists who seem to find fault only with Israel, but rarely, if ever, with the vicious enemies of Israel. 

We Jewish parents and grandparents constantly teach our young generations about love of God, love of humanity, the sanctity of human life. Yet, there are so many millions of fellow human beings who are saturated with hatred, who engage in murderous activities against us. And there are so many millions of others who are complicit with the evils of anti-Semitism by their neutrality or silence.

How can we teach of love in a world filled with hatred? How can we teach that all humans are created in the image of God, when so many humans are actively trying to murder us? How can we preach the goodness of humankind, when so much of humankind is engaged in violence? 

For thousands of years, our people have weathered the storms of persecution. In spite of the senseless hatred and violence perpetrated against us in so many lands, the Jewish people are still here to tell our story.  Our enemies always disappear; we always survive. That is an iron law of history. And that bothers the anti-Semites greatly.

Why do anti-Semites give us such a hard time? Why do people who do not even know us express hatred and malevolence toward us? Why do Israel’s enemies persist in demonizing the Jewish State, rather than  finding a way to co-exist peacefully and happily?

Jews represent an infinitesimal fraction of the world’s population. Yet, so much negative energy is directed against us! I suppose we should feel complimented to receive so much attention!

Our enemies are astounded and troubled by the fact that such a tiny Jewish people has been able to accomplish so much. We gave the world Moses, King David, Isaiah and Queen Esther. Our Bible is venerated by Christianity and Islam and has been a major influence for human civilization. Our sages have produced an unmatched legacy of literature dedicated to righteousness, ethics and law. For thousands of years, our communities have striven to maintain the highest ideals of our tradition.

Jews have distinguished themselves for service to humanity far out of proportion to our numbers. Our enemies resent our persistent commitment to excellence: generations of Jewish doctors and teachers, social workers and scientists, artists and philanthropists, business people and diplomats. They resent the incredibly high proportion of Jewish Nobel Prize winners and other world-class intellectuals and writers.

Some hate us because they see in us a highly educated, highly idealistic, highly charitable group. In contrast to their much larger groups, we are an annoying paradigm. The enemies of Israel do not understand how a tiny Jewish State has become a world leader in science and technology, agriculture and industry. How can such a small State, constantly embattled and boycotted by much of the Arab world, be so amazingly successful in so many ways? How is it that only Israel of all countries in the Middle East has been able to maintain a vibrant and dynamic democracy, a society that gives so much freedom to all its citizens?

Our enemies solve their dilemma by denying or belittling Jewish virtues, or by blaming us for preventing their own advancement. When they cannot come to grips with their own shortcomings, they look for a scapegoat: and we are a convenient target since we are so small and yet so visible. If anything, their anti-Semitism is a blatant admission of their own failings and weaknesses. Those who devote themselves to hatred thereby undermine their own humanity.

The Jewish people are persistent in believing in the ultimate goodness of humanity. In spite of all our enemies and all their hatred, we remain eternally optimistic. We believe that reason and benevolence will prevail. We work to make society better and to alleviate suffering. We believe that even wicked human beings can be redeemed through love and compassion. We can point to many millions of people who think kindly and warmly toward Jews and toward the Jewish State. The good people far outnumber the anti-Semites.

When we come under fire from anti-Semites, we call on our collective historic memory to give us strength. We have survived the millennia due to the incredible courage and fortitude of our forebears. We are the children of the prophets who taught justice, righteousness and love to the world. Our teachings are right: the world simply hasn’t absorbed them as yet.

How can we teach of love in a world filled with hatred? How can we teach that all humans are created in the image of God, when so many humans are actively trying to murder us? How can we preach the goodness of humankind, when so much of humankind is engaged in violence? 

We teach these things because they are true, and because they are the ideas and ideals that can best bring fulfillment to humanity. In spite of so much hatred and evil in the world, the Jews teach love and righteousness.

The day will come when hatred and bigotry will disappear from humanity. In the meanwhile, we must stay strong, courageous and faithful to our tradition. And to our collective Jewish memory.

Get some FRESH AIR.

At least twice a day or as much as you can -even while in quarantine. Even just sitting next to an open window and breathing deeply with eyes closed can be a virtual break from sitting around inside.

Get some SUN.

Again, as much as you can- especially if you are in quarantine. Exposure to direct sunlight helps your body make Vitamin D.

Find a sunny spot in your house/apartment/yard and soak up some rays for 15-30 minutes (unless, of course, it's cloudy).

WRITE something.

Encourage your grandchildren to put thoughts down in words. Inventive spelling is wonderful for the younger children. For yourselves, you can start keeping a diary or journal. Transform your thoughts and feelings into a poem. Write a letter to someone you love - an actual letter, on paper, that you put in an envelope with a stamp - grandchildren especially love to receive those. 

MOVE your body.

Get some physical activity. Stretch and exercise along with a YouTube video. Try the 7-minute workout. Just get the body in motion. Our Director of Athletics, Coach Dejon, has been posting awesome exercise activities on our instagram account and MDS MiBayit.

LAUGH a lot and often.

Laugh and play as much as you can… laughter is the best medicine. Game nights, movie nights, joke books, and looking through family photos and videos can lighten things up and take off some of the pressure.

DISCONNECT from your devices.

This one is tricky when we have to be on our devices for much of the day to attend to the news and stay connected with friends, etc. If you are with your grandchildren, try and carve out some time for unplugging for them. During un-screened time, encourage your grandchildren to read a real book, draw, play cards or board games, dress up, imaginary play, do a puzzle.

Go on an "INFORMATION DIET."

We are encouraging everyone to take breaks from the media…. and stick to reliable, less emotional sources for your news. Turning off the computer and TV and disconnecting can give you and your family some distance and help you put things into perspective and frame the conversation for your children and grandchildren. 

TALK to someone.

It is 100% normal, natural and predictable for people to feel really uncomfortable in this situation. It is very hard to live our lives with a heightened level of worry and uncertainty with which we are currently living. Can talking to someone about your angst and worries change the things that are making you feel that way? Probably not. Can talking to someone change the way you feel about those things? Probably. Believe it or not, talking about your feelings, saying them out loud to another person who listens to you and validates how you feel, actually makes those feelings easier to bear.  

Sending you lots of positive energy and motivation! We can do this!!!

Best,

Ariella Azaraf, School Social Worker and Michal Agus Fox, School Psychologist

Angel for Shabbat, Parashat Bo

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

Rabbi Yitzhak Shemuel Reggio, a 19th century Italian Torah commentator, offers an interesting insight concerning the plague of darkness. The Torah states that Egyptians spent three days in deep darkness while “all the children of Israel had light in their dwellings.”

Rabbi Reggio opines that the plague of darkness did not befall the land of Egypt—but rather the eyes of the Egyptians. Egypt itself was full of light; but while the Israelites continued to enjoy that light, the eyes of the Egyptians were blanketed in darkness. If an Egyptian stood right next to an Israelite, the Egyptian would be unable to see--but the Israelite would see clearly.

Rabbi Reggio notes that after the plague of darkness, the Torah reports that “the man Moses was very great in the land of Egypt, in the eyes of Pharaoh’s servants and in the eyes of the people.” It seems that the Egyptians did not recognize the greatness of Moses until after they had experienced darkness. This plague somehow caused a transformation within them. They started to see things differently, more clearly. It took darkness to make them see the light!

For many years, the Egyptians did not think twice about their enslavement of the Israelites. This was a “normal” fact of life, not to be questioned. They did not see that anything was morally wrong with the status quo. They had grown so accustomed to their pattern of thinking, that they did not question the validity of their assumptions and their lifestyle.
When they were plunged into absolute darkness, they began to realize how wrong they had been. They came to understand that their assumptions and patterns of behavior were immoral. When they “saw the light”, they then recognized the greatness of Moses. He was, after all, telling the truth! He—not Pharaoh—was the agent of truth.

The transformation within the minds of the Egyptians may also be evidenced by the Torah’s later statement that the children of Israel found favor in the eyes of the Egyptians, so that the Egyptians gave them presents. The Egyptians no longer saw the Israelites as slaves, as objects to be exploited; rather, they saw the Israelites as fellow human beings who had been cruelly mistreated. Egyptians felt empathy toward the Israelites, whom they had previously treated so callously and viciously. They wanted to give them presents, to demonstrate human solidarity.

Rabbi Reggio’s insight might be extended to relate to human life in general. People live with assumptions, values, and patterns of behavior typical of their societies. They do not necessarily self-reflect: are these assumptions true? Are these values moral? Are these patterns of behavior ethical? It is highly difficult to rise above one’s milieu and judge one’s reality in a dispassionate, honest manner.

Professor Daniel Kahneman, the Israeli Nobel Prize winner in Economics, has coined the phrase “illusion of validity.” He points out that we tend to think that our own opinions and intuitions are correct. We tend to overlook hard data that contradict our worldview and to dismiss arguments that don’t coincide with our own conception of things. We operate under the illusion that our ideas, insights, intuitions are valid; we don’t let facts or opposing views get in our way.

The illusion of validity leads to innumerable errors, to wrong judgments, to unnecessary confrontations. If we could be more open and honest, self-reflective, willing to entertain new ideas and to correct erroneous assumptions—we would find ourselves in a better, happier and more humane world.

The ancient Egyptians had the illusion of validity, believing that their murderous, slavery-ridden society was fine. They did not question their lifestyle, opinions or worldview. It took the plague of darkness to make them think more carefully about the nature of their society—and the nature of their own humanity. Once they “saw the light”, they were able to make positive adjustments. Although Pharaoh and his army continued to foster the pre-darkness views, the people as a whole seem to have re-oriented their way of thinking and acting.

The plague of darkness might symbolize the need for each of us to periodically clear our minds, re-evaluate our assumptions, and see where we might have fallen victim to the illusion of validity. In the darkness and quiet of our inner selves, we can try to shed light on our opinions, values, attitudes and behaviors. We can try to rise above ourselves, as honestly and objectively as we can.

An old proverb has it that “no one is so blind as the one who refuses to see.” We might offer an addendum to this proverb: “no one sees so clearly as the one who has first experienced darkness.”

A Study of Sephardic and Ashkenazic Liturgy[1

            The core of Jewish liturgy traces back to the early rabbinic period, and is universally followed in traditional communities worldwide. Over the centuries, Sephardim and Ashkenazim developed different nuances in their prayer liturgies. It is valuable to learn about the differences that emerged, to see how rabbinic interpretations and cultures shaped the religious experiences underlying prayer. This essay will briefly survey a few aspects of Sephardic and Ashkenazic liturgy.

Connection to Tanakh

            Although many rabbinic prayers draw inspiration from Tanakh, Sephardim often prefer an even closer connection to Tanakh than do Ashkenazim.

            For example, the Pesukei de-Zimra/Zemirot offer psalms of praise to draw us into the proper religious mindset for the mandatory prayers—the Shema, the Amidah, and their associated blessings. On Shabbat morning, Sephardim read the psalms in order of their appearance in the Book of Psalms. Ashkenazim read the psalms in a different order, presumably arranged for thematic reasons. Rabbi Shalom Carmy recently wrote an article offering a conceptual explanation for the Ashkenazic arrangement.[2] To understand the reasoning behind the order of the Sephardic liturgy, just open a Tanakh.

            In a similar vein, in Minhah of Shabbat, Sephardim and Ashkenazim usually recite three verses beginning with tzidkatekha after the Amidah. Once again, Sephardim recite these verses in their order of appearance in Psalms (36:7; 71:19; 119:142). Ashkenazim reverse the order, requiring explanation. Perishah (on Tur Orah Hayyim 292:6) suggests that God’s Name does not appear in 119:142; Elokim appears twice in 71:19; and God’s Name (Y-H-V-H) appears in 36:7. Therefore, Ashkenazim read the verses in an ascending order of holiness. Others suggest that Ashkenazim arranged the verses so that God’s Name is the last word preceding the Kaddish.[3]

            The Talmud (Berakhot 11b) debates the proper opening to the second blessing prior to the Shema in Shaharit, whether it should be ahavah rabbah or ahavat olam (Sephardim and Ashkenazim both say ahavat olam in the blessing of Arvit). Ashkenazim chose ahavah rabbah, and Sephardim chose ahavat olam. Mishnah Berurah (60:2) explains that Ashkenazim selected ahavah rabbah to parallel Lamentations (3:23): “They are renewed every morning—ample is Your grace! (rabbah emunatekha).” In contrast, Rif and Rambam explain that Sephardim preferred ahavat olam since that formula is biblical: “Eternal love (ahavat olam) I conceived for you then; therefore I continue My grace to you” (Jeremiah 31:2).[4]

            Piyyut (religious poetry used as prayer) is an area where the prayer services of Sephardim and Ashkenazim diverge significantly, since these poems were composed during the medieval period. Sephardim generally incorporated the piyyutim of Sephardic poets, and Ashkenazim generally incorporated the piyyutim of Ashkenazic poets. True to his Tanakh-centered approach, Ibn Ezra on Kohelet 5:1 levels criticisms against several Ashkenazic poets, including the venerated Rabbi Eliezer HaKalir, whose piyyutim are used widely in Ashkenazic liturgy: (1) Rabbi Eliezer HaKalir speaks in riddles and allusions, whereas prayers should be comprehensible to all. (2) He uses many talmudic Aramaisms, whereas we should pray in Hebrew, our Sacred Tongue. (3) There are many grammatical errors in Rabbi Eliezer HaKalir’s poetry. (4) He uses derashot that are far from peshat, and we need to pray in peshat. Ibn Ezra concludes that it is preferable not to use faulty piyyutim at all. In contrast, he idealizes Rabbi Saadiah Gaon as the model religious poet.

Kaddish and Kedushah[5]

Sometimes, minor text variations reflect deeper concepts. For example, Rabbi Marvin Luban notes a distinction between the Kaddish and the Kedushah.[6] In the Kedushah, we sanctify God’s Name in tandem with the angels. In the Kaddish, we lament the absence of God’s overt presence in the world.

Tosafot on Sanhedrin 37b refer to an early Geonic custom where Kedushah was recited only on Shabbat. Although we do not follow this practice (we recite both Kaddish and Kedushah on weekdays and Shabbat), it makes excellent conceptual sense. Kedushah conveys a sense of serenity, setting a perfect tone for Shabbat. In contrast, Kaddish reflects distress over the exile, which is better suited for weekdays.

A relic of this practice distinguishes the Kedushah read by Sephardim and Ashkenazim for Shaharit on Shabbat. Ashkenazim incorporate the language of Kaddish into the Kedushah by inserting the following paragraph:

Reveal Yourself from Your place, O our King, and reign over us, for we are waiting for You. When will You reign in Zion? May it be soon in our days, and may You dwell there for ever and all time. May You be exalted and sanctified  (titgaddal ve-titkaddash) in the midst of Jerusalem, Your city, from generation to generation for evermore. May our eyes see Your kingdom, as is said in the songs of Your splendor, written by David your righteous and anointed one.  (Koren translation)

In contrast, Sephardim keep the Kaddish and the Kedushah separate. They insist that there is a time and a place for each type of prayer, and do not recite this paragraph.

Haftarot[7]

Although the Sages of the Talmud codified the prophetic passages to be read as Haftarot for holidays, they left the choice of regular Shabbat Haftarot to the discretion of individual communities (Rabbi Joseph Karo, Kesef Mishneh on Rambam, Laws of Prayer, 12:12). Consequently, several Haftarah reading traditions have arisen.

Vayera

Generally, when Sephardim and Ashkenazim read from same passage, Sephardim are more likely to have a shorter Haftarah. In Beshallah, for example, Sephardim read Deborah’s song in Judges chapter 5, whereas Ashkenazim read the chapter of narrative beforehand as well.

A striking example of this phenomenon is the Haftarah of Vayera. II Kings, chapter 4 relates the story of the prophet Elisha and a woman who offered him hospitality. Elisha prophesied that this woman would give birth to a son, and indeed she did. These themes directly parallel elements of the Parashah: Angelic guests visit Abraham and Sarah; Abraham and Sarah offer their guests hospitality; the angels promise them the birth of Isaac; and Isaac is born.

After these initial parallels to the Parashah, the story in the Haftarah takes a tragic turn in verses 18–23. The son dies, and the woman goes to find Elisha. As she leaves home, the woman’s husband asks why she was going out if it was not a special occasion, and she replies, “Shalom.” This is where Sephardim end the Haftarah. Ashkenazim read the continuation of the narrative in verses 24–37, in which the woman finds Elisha who rushes back to her house and God miraculously revives the child. It appears jarring that Sephardim would conclude the Haftarah at a point where the child still is lifeless rather than proceeding to the happy and miraculous ending of the story.

Rabbi Elhanan Samet explains the surprising discrepancy by noting that the entire story is inordinately long for a congregational setting (37 verses). Sephardim therefore abridged the Haftarah to 23 verses at the expense of reading to its happy ending. They conclude with the word “Shalom” to strike at least some positive note.[8] In contrast, Ashkenazim favored completing the story even though that meant reading a lengthy Haftarah.

Shemot

            Parashat Shemot is an example where Sephardim, Ashkenazim, and Yemenites adopted passages from different prophetic books to highlight different themes from the Parashah.

Sephardim read the beginning of the Book of Jeremiah (1:1–2:3). In this passage, God selects Jeremiah as a prophet. Jeremiah expresses reluctance only to be rebuffed by God:

I replied: Ah, Lord God! I don’t know how to speak, for I am still a boy. And the Lord said to me: Do not say, I am still a boy, but go wherever I send you and speak whatever I command you. (Jeremiah 1:6–7)

This choice of Haftarah focuses on the parallels between Jeremiah’s initiation and ensuing reluctance, and Moses’ hesitations in accepting his prophetic mission in the Parashah.

Ashkenazim read from the Book of Isaiah, focusing primarily on the theme of national redemption:

[In days] to come Jacob shall strike root, Israel shall sprout and blossom, and the face of the world shall be covered with fruit. (Isaiah 27:6)

For when he—that is, his children—behold what My hands have wrought in his midst, they will hallow My name. Men will hallow the Holy One of Jacob and stand in awe of the God of Israel. (Isaiah 29:23)

Although there is rebuke in the middle of the Haftarah, the passage begins and ends with consolation and redemption.

Yemenites read one of Ezekiel’s harsh diatribes against Israel for their infidelity to God. The prophet compares them to an unfaithful woman who has cheated on God by turning to idolatry and the allures of pagan nations: “O mortal, proclaim Jerusalem’s abominations to her” (Ezekiel 16:2).

Ashkenazim highlight the link between the national exile and redemption. Yemenites selected Ezekiel’s caustic condemnation of the Israelites, implying that the Israelites deserved slavery as a punishment for having assimilated in Egypt. It likely was used as an exhortation to contemporary Jews to remain faithful to the Torah. Sephardim chose to highlight the development of the outstanding individual figure of the Parashah—Moses.

Music and Mood During the High Holy Days

One notable practice in many Sephardic communities is to sing several melodies during the High Holy Day season that are lively, exciting, and even joyous. One of the most dramatic examples is the refrain in the Selihot (penitential prayers), Hattanu lefanekha rahem alenu, we have sinned before You; have mercy on us! Amidst our confession of sinning, this tune is rousing and upbeat. If an Ashkenazic Jew heard some of these Sephardic tunes, he or she might intuitively feel that the happiness of the music was inappropriate for Yom Kippur. If a Sephardic Jew heard some of the solemn Ashkenazic tunes, he or she might wonder why the music lacks this happiness. Yet, both sets of tunes are consistent with different aspects of the day.

Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef discusses whether one should use joyous or awe-inspiring tunes on Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur (Yehavveh Da’at II:69). Among many authorities, he quotes Rabbi Hayyim Vital, who stated that his teacher, Rabbi Isaac Luria (Ari), used to cry while praying on Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. Rabbi Yosef quotes Rabbi Elijah of Vilna (Gra), who ruled that people should not cry but rather should use festive holiday melodies. Rabbi Yosef concludes that if one is overcome with emotion, one certainly may cry. However, one otherwise should try to be in a festive, happy mood.[9]

            Not only do melodic differences elicit different emotions, but the words do, as well. To take one prominent example, a central prayer of the Ashkenazic High Holy Day liturgy is the “U-Netaneh Tokef,” during which the congregation contemplates the gravity of being judged. Yet, this prayer—composed during the medieval period—is not part of the liturgy in most Sephardic communities.

            Rabbi Simhah bar Yehoshua, an Ashkenazic rabbi, traveled on a ship with Sephardim to the Land of Israel. He wrote,

On the entire voyage we prayed with the Sephardim. The Sephardim awoke prior to daybreak to say Selihot with a quorum as is their custom in the month of Elul. During the day they eat and rejoice and are happy of heart. Some of them spend their entire days in study. (in J. D. Eisenstein, Otzar ha-Masa’ot, 1969, p. 241)

When Jews of different backgrounds live together, they have the opportunity to learn from the practices of one another, thereby appreciating other aspects of our rich tradition.

The Censored Verse in Alenu

The Alenu prayer is ancient, and initially was recited only during the High Holy Days. It appears to have entered the daily prayers around the year 1300 ce. In the original text, we contrast ourselves with pagans, “For they worship vanity and emptiness, and pray to a god who cannot save, she-hem mishtahavim la-hevel va-rik, u-mitpallelim el el lo yoshia.” This line derives from two verses in the Book of Isaiah:

For the help of Egypt shall be vain and empty (hevel va-rik). (Isaiah 30:7)

No foreknowledge had they who carry their wooden images and pray to a god who cannot give success (u-mitpallelim el el lo yoshia). (Isaiah 45:20)

Around 1400, an apostate claimed that this line in Alenu was intended to slur Christianity. He observed that the numerical value (gematria) of va-rik is 316, the same as Yeshu, the Hebrew name of the Christian savior. This accusation led to the Christian censor striking this line from the Alenu in France and Germany. In 1703, the Prussian government even placed guards in synagogues to ensure that Jews would not recite that line.

In their attempts to defend the original prayer, rabbis protested that the line is anti-pagan, and cannot be anti-Christian. Among other arguments, they noted that the verses are from Isaiah (eighth century bce), who long pre-dates Christianity. Nevertheless, the censor required Ashkenazic Jews to remove that line, whereas Sephardim retained the original text.[10] Today, several Ashkenazic communities have restored that line to their prayer books.[11]

Conclusion

            Most aspects of the Sephardic and Ashkenazic liturgy are strikingly similar. The biblical passages, ancient rabbinic prayers, and the structure of the service, are largely the same with minor variations.

In those areas where there were choices left to later generations, such as ordering of the psalms, choosing between rabbinic interpretations, medieval piyyutim, Shabbat Haftarot, and music, we can appreciate the choices different communities made to shape their prayer experience.

More broadly, Jewish schools, synagogues, and adult education programs must teach the full range of Jewish thought, interpretation, history, liturgy, and many other elements from the Sephardic and Ashkenazic experience. In this manner, we become stronger and become more united as a people, even as we retain our diverse customs and traditions.[12]

When bombs are exploding and tanks are rolling, it is difficult to imagine peace. When children are taught to hate and suicide/homicide murderers are called "freedom fighters", it is difficult to imagine peace. When all sides list their grievances and do not listen to the grievances of others, it is difficult to imagine peace.

But if we do not try to imagine peace, peace will not come. So let us imagine, in spite of all the "facts on the ground", that peace must be achieved. What voices can guide us? What words can be a salve to our wounds? How can we put the dream of peace into real terms?

In 1919, Rabbi Benzion Uziel, then a young rabbi, spoke to a conference of rabbis in Jerusalem. He stated: "Israel, the nation of peace, does not want and never will want to be built on the ruins of others....Let all the nations hear our blessing of peace, and let them return to us a hand for true peace, so that they may be blessed with the blessing of peace." In 1939, when Rabbi Uziel became Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel, he delivered his inaugural address in Hebrew, and then added words in Arabic. He appealed to the Arab community: "We reach our hands out to you in peace, pure and trustworthy....Make peace with us and we will make peace with you. Together all of us will benefit from the blessing of God on His land; with quiet and peace, with love and fellowship, with goodwill and pure heart we will find the way of peace."

The words of Rabbi Uziel reflected the wishes of the tiny Jewish community in the land of Israel in those times. His words still reflect the wishes of the Jewish community of Israel today. Hawks and doves alike would like nothing better than genuine, secure peace. They would like Israeli society to be free and happy, without the specter of warfare and terrorism, without the constant threat and reality of Arab military, economic and political attacks. They would like to live in harmony with their Arab neighbors-and to trust that their Arab neighbors will want to live in harmony with them.

But the words of Rabbi Uziel need to be stated and restated by the leaders of Israel. The idea of reaching a mutually rewarding peace must be put into words, must be repeated, must be believed and taught. Will words create peace? Not immediately. But they will set the foundations of peace. The words will help transform the dream of peace into a framework for peace.

In 1919, at the Paris peace conference following World War I, the Emir Feisal, one of the great Arab leaders of the time, made the following comments about the Jewish desire to return to their ancient homeland in Israel: "We Arabs...look with the deepest sympathy on the Zionist movement....We will wish the Jews a most hearty welcome home....I look forward, and my people with me look forward, to a future in which we will help you and you will help us, so that the countries in which we are mutually interested may once again take their places in the community of civilized peoples of the world."

I do not know if any Arab leaders today can say these words with sincerity. Yet, if Arab leaders-especially Palestinian leaders-could find the strength to say these words, the dream of peace might be brought closer to reality. Israel wants most what the Arab world has for the most part not given: a sign of acceptance, a sign of welcome, a sign that Jews have a right to live in peace and tranquility in the land of Israel. The people of Israel need to hear what Emir Feisal said: welcome home; we will help you and you will help us. Together we will raise our peoples to great cultural and economic heights.

We need to hear these words. The people of Israel and the Arab nations need to hear these words. If we are to imagine peace, we must articulate the words that can point us to peace. If we all start saying, and believing, and teaching our children these words, we will be on our way.

But who has the courage to speak as Rabbi Uziel and as Emir Feisal did? We are waiting. Israelis and Palestinians are waiting. Jews and Muslims and Christians are waiting. The world is waiting. Let us hear these words, let us begin to understand.

When I speak to Torah Jews about the environment, I often find that they expect me to speak about hugging trees.  In some communities, the environment is thought of as a friendly topic, one that will be interesting to children, perhaps at camp.  In other communities, the environment is a topic that has hardly been broached at all.  Our community is uninformed about the environmental challenges we face, the Torah view, and our own responsibilities to our families, our communities, and our world.  It is my hope that this article will begin to cast light on these issues, to help our community learn and act.

Our environment is severely threatened today.  We face the breakdown of major systems on our planet; systems that all human beings rely on for basic elements such as food, clean air, and clean water. More than half of the world’s major rivers are seriously depleted and polluted.  Nearly 1.8 million people die worldwide each year due to urban pollution.  Thirteen thousand species are listed as threatened or endangered with extinction or as species of concern under the Endangered Species Act, more than 100 times what we understand to be normal rates of species extinction. Large predatory fish in our oceans have been reduced to a mere 10% (by mass) of pre-industrial levels. The Millenium Ecosystem Assessment, a recent study of worldwide ecosystems, concluded that we are destroying our natural resources at a rate that will leave a seriously depleted world for our own children.

The problem is even more severe in Israel, where more people die from air pollution in metropolitan areas in Israel than from traffic deaths in all of Israel in a given year. Water scarcity has caused nearly all of the rivers in the land of Israel to become polluted or depleted, though efforts since 1993 are working to restore the major rivers in Israel.

While the modern environmental movement has done much to raise awareness of environmental challenges and to find technological solutions, the movement has done little to change the culture of Western society.  Western society tends to focus on a glorification of the physical, on quick “soundbites” versus wisdom, on instant gratification over patience, and on consumption rather than restraint.  This focus has, in part, caused today’s environmental challenges.  We will not succeed at protecting our environment by using the same methods that caused the problems we face.  The Torah, on the other hand, presents a time-tested philosophy which can help us address today’s problems – if we can listen to it.

The Torah has a deep tradition for protecting what is now known as the environment.  Reading our sources with an eye for environmental sensitivity, we find a wealth of connections and teachings that encourage us to protect our resources, care for our health, prevent unnecessary damage to our neighbors, show concern and respect for other creatures, and avoid unnecessary waste.  These teachings can help us find solutions to some of the grave environmental threats that we face today.

Building awareness of our Torah responsibility to protect the environment allows us to strengthen our understanding of the Torah’s perspective on modern issues.  In so doing, we can engage in these issues while remaining true to a Torah approach.  Meanwhile, the Torah wisdom on the environment has much to offer our troubled Western society, which is struggling to address environmental issues within the paradigms that created them.  Ultimately, bringing Jews together on an issue of common concern such as the environment can provide important opportunities for Jewish unity. 

The Torah’s teachings on our responsibility to Hashem’s world begin in Bereishit, when we are given two separate explanations for our role on the earth:

“Be fruitful and multiply, fill the Earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over every living thing that moves on the Earth.” (Bereishit 1:28)

“And the L-rd G-d took the man and put him into the Garden of Eden, to cultivate it and to protect it.” (Bereishis 2:15)

In “The Lonely Man of Faith,” Rav Soloveitchik discusses two different conceptions of man based on these verses.  The first instruction calls to the physical person, who works the earth and uses it for his physical needs. This person relates to the earth and uses it in a physical way, to get what he needs to survive.  This function might be called “subduing the earth,” and Rav Solovetchik sees this as a holy endeavor, part of our human responsibility and part of what makes humanity great.

The second instruction calls to the spiritual side of man: the person who wants to know, understand, and connect to Hashem.  This person looks at the universe and wonders.  This person is given the instruction to cultivate the land and to protect it.  This person wants to connect to the land that we’ve been given.  In the second story which includes this instruction, Adam also goes around and names the animals.  He establishes a relationship with the earth.

Rav Solovetchik considers both aspects – the subduing and the protecting – as essential parts of a human being.  Looking at this from an environmental perspective, we can see that Hashem created the land for us to use.  But we also have a responsibility to temper our instincts to build and subdue.  There must be a balanced relationship with the earth.  We are permitted to use the earth -- but we must use it wisely. This balanced view is the Torah perspective on the environment, and we can see this balance running through our tradition whenever we are interacting with the world.

One example of the Torah’s wisdom regarding protecting Hashem’s resources comes in an unlikely place: in Bava Batra, in a discussion of laws that relate to protection of privacy.  These ancient laws read like modern day laws preventing pollution.  For example, the Talmud required that certain industries be kept at a distance from the town so that those living in the town would not be afflicted by the bad smells.  The Rambam follows on this example and prevents individuals from building certain technologies, such as threshing floors, on their property unless they are done at a distance where the particles of earth or dust will not reach his neighbor.  The Rambam says that it must be done at a distance that the wind will not carry the particles to his neighbor. The Rambam considered this in the same category as doing damage with arrows.  The Shulchan Aruch also describes a law requiring us to protect our neighbor’s drinking sources.

We can see from these sources that one of the major categories of what is now called “environmentalism” was included in our sources, and simply understood as part of our responsibilities to our neighbors.  But to what extent do our “environmental” actions today ensure the health and comfort of our neighbors?  When we drive our cars and idle them in school parking lots, do we think of the impact on our neighbors’ children who may have asthma?  When we wash our cars, fertilize our lawns, or pour chemicals down the drain, do we think of the impact on our neighbors’ water sources?  Perhaps we should revisit these sources in the context of our modern environmental challenges.

Even more important than our responsibility to protect our neighbors is our responsibility to protect our own health and that of our families.  The Torah’s teaching, “But you shall greatly beware for your souls” (devarim 4:15) requires us to be especially careful in protecting our health.  We all should take a moment to reflect on how well we are taking care of our bodies in light of this major obligation.  We must also remember that many actions that are today called “environmental” can have a significant impact on our health and especially on the health of our children.  Some products that we use in our homes include carcinogens which could, G-d forbid, affect our families.  Some pesticides being used on our lawns (or those of our children’s schools, or being used as pesticides on our food) can cause significant threats to our children. 

Once a person begins to recognize the breadth of the environmental problem, the next reaction is often to feel completely overwhelmed.  There are so many other things to do.  How can we protect the environment too?  But as Torah Jews, we are familiar with taking actions that are consistent with Torah.  We’ve all stopped buying a favorite product when it lost its heksher, or passed up a concert because it happened during the Three Weeks.   We know how to do the right thing, even when it is difficult.  This restraint is part of the wisdom of our tradition.

How do we choose the more difficult path?  By taking one action at a time.  In fact, we have a teaching from the Rambam that helps us focus this way.  The Rambam teaches us to see each action we take as tipping the balance for good or bad, in our own lives – and for the whole world.  Applied to the environment, we can see that we need to begin with our “daled amot” (the four spaces around us) and change just one action.  It will make a difference.  And in time, it will lead to the next action: a mitzvah begets another mitzvah.

There are many initial actions that we can take which will improve our own lives and also protect the world. 

• To save energy, we can turn of the lights when leaving the room, use cold water in the washing machine, change the thermostat a few degrees to reduce heating and air conditioning costs, and choose to walk when we can instead of driving. 
• We can make the air in our homes cleaner by investing in eco-friendly cleaning products, reducing air fresheners and aerosols, and ensuring that our home has a Carbon Monoxide detector. 
• To reduce chemicals in our home, we can begin to buy organic.  (The most important 12 fruits and vegetables to buy organic are apples, bell peppers, celery, cherries, imported grapes, nectarines, peaches, pears, potatoes, red raspberries, spinach, and strawberries. For an exploration of this issue visit www.canfeinesharim.org and search “organic.”) 
• To reduce waste, we can recycle, buy recycled paper with the highest “post-consumer waste” percentage available, stop buying bottled water and use tap water (with filter, if needed), and use real dishes and cloth napkins rather than disposable.  

Any of these actions would help us begin on a path toward healthy and sustainable living.  Choose one to start with, and when you have mastered that, it will be time to choose another.

The Torah’s wisdom on the environment is being taught today by Canfei Nesharim, an organization which is working to inspire the Jewish community to understand and act on the relationship between traditional Jewish sources and modern environmental issues.  Since its inception in 2003, Canfei Nesharim has implemented environmentally-focused programs for Jewish holidays and the Sabbath in dozens of local communities worldwide.

Canfei Nesharim (“the Wings of Eagles”) is the only organization that focuses on environmental education specifically within the Orthodox Jewish community.  In 2007, the Rabbinical Council of America (RCA) passed a resolution supporting the Torah-based environmental movement and recognizing the work of Canfei Nesharim, urging “every Jew to join its cause.” The RCA called upon its members to “educate themselves and their constituents both scientifically and halakhically about the environmental challenges we face.” Canfei Nesharim has also been recognized as one of the fifty most innovative Jewish non-profit organizations in North America by 21/64 (Slingshot), a division of The Andrea and Charles Bronfman Philanthropies. 

In 2008, Canfei Nesharim embarked on three new initiatives.  The first is a strategy for environmental engagement in Orthodox day schools, beginning with a series of educator focus groups in summer 2008.  The second is a series of seminars for San Francisco educators on Jewish environmental wisdom, based on a set of weekly Torah commentary resources.  The third is a program series for local synagogues, called Daled Amot & Beyond.  In addition, Canfei Nesharim’s executive director will present two sessions at CAJE’s upcoming conference.  All of Canfei Nesharim’s programs provide education about the relevance of Torah wisdom to the environment, and help Jews address modern environmental concerns from within the context of Jewish tradition.

Canfei Nesharim offers a wealth of resources about Torah and the environment via its searchable web-based resource library, its weekly Torah commentary on the environment, and its first publication, A Compendium of Sources in Halacha and the Environment, which includes articles by rabbis about the connections between Torah and protecting the environment, and has been distributed to approximately 500 rabbis, educators, and families.  More information about Canfei Nesharim’s resources and programs can be found at www.canfeinesharim.org.

Canfei Nesharim has volunteers in 20 cities, including Washington, DC; New York, NY; Sharon, MA; Los Angeles, CA; Milwaukee, WI, and San Francisco, CA.  To find a partner school or synagogue near you (or to create a new partnership with Canfei Nesharim), send an email to [email protected]. 

One would not imagine that our sages could have imagined the environmental problems that we face today.  And yet, the Torah includes teachings for every type of challenge that we face.  We conclude with this remarkable insight from the Midrash:

At the time when G-d created Adam, He took him around the trees of the Garden of Eden, and He said to them, “Look at My works!  How beautiful and praiseworthy they are.  Everything that I have created, I created for you.  Take care not to damage and destroy My world, for if you damage it, there is no one to repair it after you.” (Kohelet Rabba 7:28)

Angel for Shabbat, Parashat Vayikra

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

In his short story, “The Intelligence Office,” Nathaniel Hawthorne describes a group of people who make requests from an intelligence officer. Some are seeking worldly things, and others are seeking truths of one kind or another.

One of the clients states that he wants a place. The officer explains that there are many vacant or soon to be vacant places, but he needs more information from the petitioner as to what he is looking for. 

The client responds:  “I want my place! My own place! My true place in the world! My proper sphere! My thing to do, which nature intended me to perform when she fashioned me thus awry, and which I have vainly sought all my lifetime!” The intelligence officer could not satisfy his wishes and the man left dejected.

One after the other, clients expressed their wishes and goals, and one after the other their requests were logged in the record book. But no help was offered. Each person ultimately had to solve his/her own problem.

The record book of the Intelligence Office would be an amazing reflection of the needs and wishes of human beings. Hawthorne writes:  “Human character in its individual developments—human nature in the mass—may best be studied in its wishes.”

What do we wish for?  Good health (physical, spiritual, emotional), good family, friends, happiness, love, wholeness, self-worth, usefulness, a feeling that our lives mean something…that we each have our own unique and valued place in the world.

We are not only what we seem to be; we also are what we aspire to become, what we wish for. Ideally, we have worthy aspirations; ideally, we conduct our lives so as we can best reach toward those aspirations.

In this week’s Torah portion, we begin the book of Vayikra…and we read about many forms of sacrifices that took place in the Mishkan of the ancient Israelites as they wandered in the wilderness. Obviously, their primary wish at that time would have been to enter the Promised Land and get settled there. This was a practical and sensible wish.

But the Torah emphasizes the necessity of spiritual aspirations. It describes the offerings as a way of reminding the Israelites of the primacy of their relationship with God.  In order to have a proper physical place, it is vital to have a spiritual place. It is imperative to have aspirations that transcend time and space, that reach toward the Being of all beings.

One of the Hebrew terms for God is “haMakom,” which means the Place. The Bereishith Rabba (68:9) indicates that haMakom connotes that “God is the place of the world, and His world is not His place.”  This phrase seems to mean: God encompasses the entire universe but is not limited to it. In Ezekiel’s vision, the angels bless God’s glory “miMekomo,” from His place.  His place is far beyond us…i.e. in Heaven.

The Temple sacrifices of old were a way for the Israelites to internalize a personal relationship with God. They learned to think beyond their immediate physical needs and wishes, and to place their lives in a spiritual, transcendent context.

Since the destruction of our ancient Temples in Jerusalem, our spiritual “place” has been found in our synagogues, study halls, in our homes and hearts. Our prayers— the classic liturgy of the siddur as well as our own private devotions—are a means of our finding our own place in the world. Our prayers—our wishes and aspirations—obviously relate to our physical needs. But for us truly to find our own “place” in the scheme of things, our prayers must bring us into relationship with the ultimate Place.

To paraphrase Nathaniel Hawthorne, our character as individuals may best be studied in our wishes, in our prayers and aspirations.

Our National Scholar, Rabbi Hayyim Angel, published a new Book Review in Tradition (the journal of the Rabbinical Council of America) discussing the interface between religious Bible study and archaeology.

Koren Publishers has embarked on an impressive new project, a popular companion to the Torah presenting contemporary research on archaeology, Egyptology, flora and fauna, geology, the languages and realia of the ancient Near East, and other areas that elucidate aspects of the biblical text. It is presented in a similar engaging manner to the Hebrew series, Olam HaTanakh, and like that Hebrew work was composed by a team of scholars who specialize in a variety of fields of scholarship. There are brief articles and glossy photographs, maps, and illustrations that bring these areas to light. Living up to the standard that the community has come to expect from Koren publications, the volume is an impressive work of graphic design, with a high aesthetic sense. Unlike Olam HaTanakh, which also offers a running commentary on biblical books, The Koren Tanakh of the Land of Israel discusses specifically those background areas that may enhance our understanding of the text within its real-world setting.

This series is written from an Orthodox perspective. Its authors believe that God revealed the Torah to Moses, and they utilize contemporary scholarship as a tool for understanding God’s word. The articles generally are presented judiciously, rather than reaching conclusions that exceed the biblical and archaeological evidence. The volume does not purport to be original scholarship, but rather synthesizes contemporary academic scholarship in an accessible and Orthodox-friendly manner.

Here are a few brief examples of how the authors highlight elements of the background of the narrative and laws...

To read the complete review, please go to 

https://traditiononline.org/11255-2/ 

https://www.jewishlinknj.com/features/35850-good-scholarship-to-promote-jewish-unity-the-institute-for-jewish-ideas-and-ideals

We are pleased to announce that an article about the Institute appeared in the Jewish Link of Bergen County, New Jersey (January 24, 2020 edition). We are working to spread our reach to an ever-broadening audience, as we continue to develop programs and written materials to promote our ideology. Please share this article with your friends so that together we may spread the word about our unique and vital mission in the Jewish community.

Rabbi Hayyim Angel

National Scholar