Did Yitro Really Convert?

When I was meeting with the rabbi this morning, he mentioned this week's parshah, Yitro, in relation to conversion, and it got me thinking more about the portion.

Yitro, also known as Jethro, is Moshe's father-in-law, also known as the father of Tzipporah, Moshe's wife! Together, Moshe and Tzipporah have two children. In this parshah, Yitro brings Tzipporah and the two boys out to Moshe to be reunited with their father. Likewise, Yitro helps Moshe delegate some of the work that is keeping him overly busy (decision-making and what have you) so that he can spend some time with his family. The big thing about this parshah, though, is that Yitro supposedly converts to Moshe's and the Israelite's religion (not quite yet Judaism, but, you know).

When the rabbi was discussing this, he focused on Yitro's returning to his land in Exodus 18:27. We never hear about Yitro again, and the rabbi suggested that the reason we never hear from Yitro again is perhaps because he faded back into the way of the idolatrous land -- without community, he couldn't live as a Jew.

I've always had a difficult time accepting the fact that Yitro converts in this parshah. The basis for this assumption is that Yitro is talking to Moshe, telling him about all that he had heard for what G-d did for the Isarelites in Egypt, and goes on to say, in Exodus 18:11, that he now knows that G-d is the greatest of all gods. In some translations, it reads that "your G-d is the greatest of all gods" and in others merely "G-d is the greatest of all gods." There is a big difference between the two, but overall the argument remains. By simply stating that he believes that G-d is greater than all other gods, is this a basis for assuming that Yitro embraces the Israelite religion? As a pagan, perhaps Yitro had various gods, and Yitro recognized that G-d is the greatest, but that does not mean that he embraced YHWH as the ONLY god.

At the end of this passage, in Exodus 18:27, it says that Moshe sees his father off, and Yitro goes home to his own land. The parenthetical in my Gutnick Chumash adds "to convert his family" after this statement, which I find a little troublesome. (This derives from the Rashi commentary.) If Yitro had in fact left, converted his family to the Israelite religion, and went about his life, wouldn't they have joined the rest of the Israelites? This is pre-Diaspora, of course. Or if they had led their lives -- if Yitro had converted his entire clan -- wouldn't we have heard about them later in life?

It is, thus, believable that once Yitro left the Israelites he fell back into his old many-godded ways. Without the community, one can lose their sense of self, and this is absolutely true. I often find myself longing to be within the community -- if you're surrounded by observant people, people having kosher dinners and being shomer Shabbos and walking to shul and schlepping in the eruv, it's so much easier to really be a part of a community, to feel a sense of self within the community, and most importantly, to feel a sense of self within.

Yitro, having left the community, faded into the annals of the Tanakh, never to be heard from again. Did he become a Jew? Did he convert the masses? Did he die alone, without a sense of self, wondering if his grandchildren were helping to grow the nation of Israel? Who knows. But it's a fascinating commentary on the parshah.

I could write a lot more about this parshah and about conversion as a result, but it's for another time and another post. I'm looking forward to the upcoming parshah Ki Tisa -- the infamous portion with the sin of the Golden Calf! My tour de force! My first-semester's work! Prepare for a monsoon of good Torah-y goodness!

The Grumbling Neshama.

This morning, my heart was jumping in and out of my throat. I couldn't eat breakfast, I couldn't smile, I couldn't breathe. I got the shul almost 30 minutes early, I sat in the car, I freaked out. The weather was gloomy, overcast and looking as if the sky would drop at any moment. At 10 till, I got out of the car and walked into the shul.

I sat down with the rabbi this morning, to have our first conversation about my eventual, hopeful, conversion to Judaism within Orthodox Judaism. I sat on the couch, he sat across from me. I was hopeful, I was trying to be positive, optimistic. And then? The questions. Why not Conservative Judaism? What are you looking for? Are you keeping kosher? Shomer Shabbos? You live dozens of miles from shul, how do you want to work it so you keep Shabbos? So many questions. And stories about past, failed, regretful conversions of people who just, well, couldn't crack it. The rabbi told me that the neshama is a delicate thing, it's like a light bulb. A rabbi doesn't take the neshama lightly. You can't rush things, you can't force things.

Perhaps the most fascinating thing, that put me at ease, that settled my mind and my soul for just a few minutes, was that he said it wasn't an Orthodox synagogue -- it was a synagogue that was Orthodox. He wasn't an Orthodox rabbi -- he is a rabbi who is Orthodox. I wish more rabbis, more congregations, more JEWS had this perspective on things. There is the synagogue, there is the rabbi. Our way is our own, no?

He suggested I need to start praying every day (I agree), I need to be serious about kashrut (I wish I didn't like eating out so much or that Hartford had eating-out places for observant Jews), I need to find a way to make Shabbos happen. So? He suggested I start staying with a family every Shabbos. Luckily, we know a family that is more than willing to have Tuvia and I in their home on Shabbos. It can happen, and we'll make it happen.

Where there's a will, there's a way, right?

The rabbi said that, the intellectual side is there -- I know what there is to know -- but that he sees that my neshama is hungry, and he wants to help sate that hunger. So? Every Thursday I'll be studying with the rabbi. I'll be at shul every Friday/Saturday.

But I left the synagogue this morning feeling overwhelmed. Kind of distraught, but mostly overwhelmed. I worried about my relationship with Tuvia and my living situation (should I move to W. Hartford? buy a car? rent an apartment? quit school ...?). I sat in the car for a long time, talking to Tuvia, listening to myself. Wondering and wishing for answers.

I do not feel differently about where I'm going, it's how I'm getting there that is difficult and frustrating. If I lived in a city? Things would be easier. Life would be easier. Without a car, without a home near a shul, without being within the community, there are questions that must be asked and answers that must be sought.

But, let's just say, my neshama might be overwhelmed, but it's still hungry.

I want this collection. I want this collection NOW.

Does anyone have $40 million to spare? You can donate it over there to the right. I'd be super appreciative :) Thanks!

A Lifetime's Collection of Texts in Hebrew, at Sotheby's 

I've got Questions, do you have Answers?

On any given day, I have dozens of questions swimming about my brain. I always forget to look them up or write them down or look for a solution. So, I thought it might be useful to write them down here, see what the public says, and until I have a rav? Rely on the kindness of intelligent folks on the net to provide some answers or insight. Begin!

• Are Sorry and Trivial Pursuit okay to play on Shabbos?
• Can you cut a bag open on Shabbos (like, lettuce let's say)?
• Can you tear an envelope on Shabbos?
• Can you cut or tear anything on Shabbos?
• Can you wash dishes by hand on Shabbos? If you need to clear away dirty dishes post-meal?
• Can you put dishes in a dishwasher on Shabbos ...?
• If I'm reading a book, can I put sticky notes on pages on Shabbos?
• What do people do on Shabbos when they A) aren't eating and B) aren't at shul and C) aren't napping?
• And on and on and on ... 

Delicious, Nutritious Brain Food!

I've spent the better part of the past six hours in the UConn library studying Hebrew, reading up on incredibly amusing and varying accounts of the "historical" life of Hillel, and reading over some things I'd read on Shabbos and wanted to make note of while the texts were still (sort of) fresh in my mind. So, as always, I have to share some interesting reads with the audience since, well, it's what I do. I have a running list of things that are blowing my mind that I will -- well, probably better hope -- to research and write on. So among this note-taking, I've come across some amusing and thought-provoking things.

This first excerpt is from "The Bible and the Ancient Near East" by Gordon and Rendsburg. I read this on Shabbos and immediately was laughing out loud. I read the passage to Tuvia, who found it equally amusing. It seems that so very little has changed in the past 3,000+ years. From Chapter 8, The Patriarchal Age, we read about a series of texts found in the town of Nuzu in northeastern Mesopotamia, dating from the 15th and 14th centuries BCE.

Among the Nuzu texts is a series of tablets recording the lawsuit filed by the citizens against the mayor, who was guilty of complicity with a kidnaping [sic] ring, of accepting bribes, and stealing wood and misappropriating workers from public projects for his own purposes, and of shady dealings with a woman of the community.

I can think of at least a half-dozen ongoing cases that this sounds like. It is amazing how people never change, and everything we do is a copy of something that has happened before. And we're not talking about Rome or something here, we're talking about the Ancient Near East. Thousands of years ago!

The second little bit is not so much funny as it is interesting, and it comes from the same chapter.

The Patriarchs represent a microcosm of Israel. Gd's intervention in their personal lives is akin to the role He plays in the life of Israel. Moreover, Israel is not a powerful nation like Egypt or Babylonia; instead it is a "barren" country, and a "younger son" among the nations of the world. Gd has made Israel prolific and He has made it His firstborn (Exodus 4:22), ideas reflected in the Patriarchal narratives.

This, of course, is referring to the common theme in the Hebrew bible of the younger son outdoing the older son -- Isaac/Ishmael, Jacob/Esau, Joseph/his brothers. It's an interesting motif that characterizes just what Israel is.

I've become curious about the role/idea of "Titans" in the Ancient Near East and perhaps, though I'm guessing there's nothing on it, in Judaism. I have found a book by someone who suggests that the Greeks borrowed for their Titans myth from the Ancient Near East, but I have yet to leave my little office to go scavenge for the book. The only reason I find myself intrigued about this is because in "Stories from Ancient Canaan" by Coogan, there is a passage about the Canaanite gods being "larger than life. They travel by giant strides -- 'a thousand fields, ten thousand acres at each step' -- and their control over human destiny is absolute." I read that and immediately thought "the Titans of Greek myths!"

It's funny how, the more I study the ancient texts of Judaism and the Ancient Near East, words simply pop out lyrically as echoes of one another. For example, when reading the Akkadian Atrahasis (a photo of which is to the right) the words describing a terrorizing storm echo the words in the Hebrew bible in reference to the plague of darkness (of the parshah just a few weeks ago!) -- the Atrahasis epic states that "One person did not see another, They could not recognize each other in the catastrophe" (iii, 13-14) and from Exodus 10:23: "People could not see one another, and for three days no one could get up from where he was."

The similarities between the texts of the Ancient Near East are endless and offer a wealth of information about just WHO we the Israelites were and are. I find it all really fascinating ... and I guess I sort of hope my readers do, too!

Tu bishevat higiya Chag ha'ilanot!!

When you come to the land and you plant any tree, you shall treat its fruit as forbidden; for three years it will be forbidden and not eaten. In the fourth year, all of its fruit shall be sanctified to praise the L-RD. In the fifth year, you may eat its fruit. -- Leviticus 19:23-25

Today (starting last night and ending today at sundown) is Tu B'Shevat -- the birthday of the trees -- in Judaism! Trees, to be completely honest, are the essence of so much of what being Jewish is about. There are myriad passages in the Bible that talk about trees, being like trees, finding shade under trees, and of course, perhaps the two most important trees, the trees of life and of knowledge. When you visit Israel, one of the most significant things to do is to plant a tree (which was the first thing I did when I got to Israel). In fact, Israel has planted -- in the past 107 years -- 240 MILLION trees. The man-made forests in Israel are a beautiful site, even if they are lined up perfectly so that you know they're man-made.

So, on this new year of the trees, I give you some wisdom from Rabbi Elazar ben Azaria, a Talmudic sage of the 1st century CE, who said: "Anytime our wisdom exceeds our good deeds, to what are we likened? — to a tree whose branches are numerous but whose roots are few; then the wind comes and uproots it and turns it upside down. ... But when our good deeds exceed our wisdom, to what are we likened? — to a tree whose branches are few but whose roots are numerous; even if all the winds of the world were to come and blow against it, they could not budge it from its place..." And from Mishnah Rosh Hashanah 1:1, we have the call for this, the new year of trees!

There are four new years ... the first of Shevat is the new year for trees according to the ruling of Beit Shammai; Beit Hillel, however, places it on the fifteenth of that month.

Also: Two years ago I wrote about this holiday on my blog, check it out for some wisdom from the Lubavitcher Rebbe!

Note: All the photos are mine, taken in Israel, at Neot Kedamim, a nature preserve. Of course, some of these you've seen before but -- come on! It's a holiday, lots of tree love is needed.

An Orthodox Jew: Part I or, Meeting the Rabbi

From Twitter several days ago:

Yes, it's official. It's true. On Thursday, February 12, 2009, I will be meeting with an Orthodox rabbi to discuss my pursuit of an Orthodox conversion. I know what you're thinking, "Chavi, you're Jewish! You converted almost three years ago!" And the answer to both is "yes." I'm not out to please anyone or to prove to anyone that I'm this Jewish or that Jewish, and it most certainly isn't about securing the comfortable Jewish lives of my future children. Call me nuts or selfish, but it's about me. A lot of people along my path have suggested that Orthodoxy isn't so much what I am, but rather that I'm drawn -- as a zealous convert -- to the traditions, the heritage, the lifestyle, the people. In a way? Yes, that's all very true, but it's so much more than that.


Hashkafically, this is where I'm heading and where I have been heading for the past year and a half or more. I'm not BECOMING a Jew. I already am a Jew. What this is is acknowledging who I am as a Jew. 

So Thursday, I will be talking a rabbi. Will I have to go through two years of study -- again? Will I have to start wearing skirts every day? Will I be able to carry on as I am on Shabbos? How can I manage an Orthodox conversion living dozens of miles away from the shul? Will someone start putting me up for Shabbos? Will my current non-shomer negiah relationship be questioned? And most importantly, will I ask all the right questions?

The rabbi I'm meeting with is outstanding and I was sent his way by some friends back in Chicago at the Orthodox shul I went to there. The rabbi sounds eager, and I hope my nerves and apprehensions and my concerns about my logistics don't get the best of me.

Anyone have any tips on things to ask? Any encouragement? Advice?

Books of 5768, at last!

Here's the rundown of books I consumed in 5768. I'm really, really late to doing up this list, but what can you do? I've been quite busy. This is, unfortunately, an incomplete list as the year went on I lost track of many books I'd read. I've put asterisks next to the ones that I highly, highly recommend picking up. Now? I can start up my list for 5769 since we're many months in!

• A Heart of Many Rooms by David Hartman
  
• Boychiks in the Hood by Robert Eisenberg**
  
• Choosing to Be Jewish: The Orthodox Road to Conversion by Marc D. Angel**
  
• Conservative Movement in Judaism by Daniel Elazer and Rela Mintz Geffen
  
• Davita's Harp by Chaim Potok**
  
• Embroideries by Marjane Satrapi
  
• Epileptic (Graphic Novel) by David B.
  
• Exploring Exodus by Nahum Sarna**
• Faith for Beginners by Aaron Hamburger
  
• Heat by Bill Buford**
  
• I Married a Communist by Philip Roth**
  
• I Was a Child of Holocaust Survivors by Bernice Eisenstein
  
• I'm Not the New Me by Wendy McClure**
  
• In the Shadow of No Towers by Art Spiegelman
  
• Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon**
  
• My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok
  
• Persopolis I and II by Marjane Sartrapi**
  
• Rashi's Daughters, Book I: Joheved
  
• (1/2 of) Rashi's Daughters, Book II: Miriam
  
• The JPS Commentary on Ecclesiastes by Michael V. Fox
  
• The Promise by Chaim Potok**
  
• The Rabbi's Cat by Joann Sfar
  
• The Search Committee by Marc D. Angel**
  
• The Song of Songs by Ariel Bloch and Chana Bloch
  
• Understanding Genesis by Nahum Sarna
  

Jew in the City answers all the questions!

I think I have found the Holy Grail of awesomeness in regards to being an Orthodox Jew.

I have to give a GIGANTIC tip of the hat to Aliza over at Memoir of a Jewminicana for posting these videos, and an even bigger hat tip to the Jew in the City herself, Allison. The videos and blogs over at Jew in the City are devoted to smushing all the crazy rumors about what it means to be an Orthodox Jew. The author was raised Conservative, and now is proudly an Orthodox Jewish woman living in the city. There is a blog, videos, a Q&A section, and even the option of leaving your number so that maybe, just maybe, Allison will field one of your questions. I really think this is an amazing thing she's doing, and I hope the videos persist. Here are a few of them on questions that we ALL field regularly -- what makes things kosher and, really, you have sex through a hole in the sheet, right?

Like the eruv on Shabbos, Haveil Havalim is up!

Esser Agaroth is hosting this week's Haveil Havalim -- the Jewish blog carnival -- which is in its 203rd incarnation. I'll be hosting HH in all its splendor in about a month, when I have some Spring Break time at the beginning of March.

So go, read up, and me? I'm going to take a nap.

Guilt = Money for Charity

Absolutely famished, I made dinner, scarfed it down, and about 15 minutes later realized what an absolutely STUPID thing I had done. I made a huge party foul in the likes of catastrophe. I'm so angry at myself. So I went first thing to AskMoses.com to get some wisdom -- what does someone who severely busted the laws of kashrut do to amend? I mean, this isn't Catholicism folks, you don't confess. You just sit around with loads of guilt, waiting for the incident to escape your mind. And then something else happens and it's a vicious cycle! So what did the nice woman at AskMoses.com tell me to do? She suggested I pay more attention to what I'm eating, which is a given, and that I donate money to a food-oriented charity.

So Mazon, please take my guilt money and use it for a good thing.

Is it kosher?

I've taken to drinking Soy Milk in my coffee drinks, mostly because then I don't have to worry about whether I'm drinking it four hours post-meat meal or otherwise. This was a relief for Tuvia, who loves having coffee at work. Right? Wrong. I've always been conscious of the fact that  Silk Soymilk, which you can find at Starbucks and most other coffee shops, is OU-D, meaning it's Kosher by the Orthodox Union, but Dairy. A friend of mine wouldn't hesitate to order a coffee with soymilk at Starbucks after a meat meal and she was definitely kosher. So I never thought much of it. Obviously, the Soy Milk is produced on dairy equipment or in a facility where dairy is processed, and that's all there is to it, but I know plenty of vegans who live on Silk Soy Milk, so it's got to be legit. I mean, I love the Chocolate Silk!

So after thinking more about it, and needing some type of proof to back up my assumptions about why I feel okay drinking Soy Milk after a meat meal (and, to be honest, I rarely eat meat during the day, and mostly only on Shabbos or when I'm out with Tuvia), and so I found the Kosher Blog's write-up on this issue from July 2008.

The actual container of Silk Soy Milk says "It's Free! Silk Soymilk is free of lactose, dairy, cholesterol, gluten, eggs, peanuts, casein, MSG and worries." But with the OU-D label, some explaining is needed. According to the Kosher Blog:

In case you didn’t get it:

The D designates that the dairy-free product was heated on equipment also used for dairy and may not be eaten together with a meat product. It may be eaten immediately after a meat product, but not together [emphasis mine].

So there you have it. You can eat it immediately after a meat product, but not together.

I e-mailed the OU just to be 200% sure, and they confirmed that all Silk products are parve but made on dairy equipment. The e-mailer added the following:

You will not find the DE designation on a product certified by the OU. The OU designates dairy-free products made on dairy equipment with the ‘OU-D’ symbol and not ‘DE’ (Dairy Equipment). This due to the fact that the OU has seen that in industrial applications, very rarely is a proper cleanup performed after a dairy run before the Pareve run. As a result there is a problem of dairy residue entering the so-called Pareve product.

This seems reasonable to me, but I would not worry about it in the case of Silk products, since the company is adamant about its products being safe for those with dairy allergies, which requires an extremely high level of cleanliness. And of course, the OU says that you can have them after meat. So you can have them after meat.

Thus, I feel vindicated. If anyone has another take on the topic, please let me know. I know there are those who are HARDCORE with the kosher and wouldn't think of even looking into this and would rather err on the side of not even going for it, but, well, that's not my style. If it's good enough for the OU, it's good enough for me.

(PS: This is post 701! Wow!)

I am most definitely not a Whora!!

I have been wholly devoted over the past few weeks to reading up on Yohanan ben Zakkai, the fall of Jerusalem, Vespasian, and all that is contained therein. So, to be completely honest, I needed a break. The kind of break that I usually get by reading a graphic novel -- something that's functional, but sort of mindless with lots of pictures and not so much text. When my mind gets to the point of exploding, I turn to these lighter books (though oftentimes they're really heavy topics) to sort of cleanse the brain tissue. So this is a bit of a review, and a bit of me hoping to get you guys to giggle a bit.

This time, on this special occasion of brain cleansing, I turned to "Webstein's Dictionary: The Essential Guide to Yiddishizing Your Life," thanks to the book's author Joel M. Stein. Thanks to him and his kitschy little book, I'm giggling and relaxing. It's definitely a coffee table reader, something to place beside your copies of "Cool Jew " and other schwankily Jewish books. The thing is, it's a pretty small and unsuspecting book, and I was actually surprised by its compact size, but it packs a big punch with the funny. Some of the definitions produce those "oy ... really!?" kind of reactions, while others had me going "YES! YES!!!!" in an almost orgasmically pleasing fashion. After all, I am a word person!

My favorite definitions -- not to spoil the book, of course -- were

challahscopy n. the procedure to remove thirty years of Friday evening white bread impacted in your colon (from the root challah: traditional braided bread served on Sabbath, and most holidays)

and

drek tech n. the shleppy guy in the IT office whose sole purpose is to ruin your computer every time he runs a Windows update (from the root drek: crap)

and

whora n. the uncomfortably-close dance your divorced cousin performs at every wedding with every man -- single or otherwise (from the root hora: traditional Jewish circle dance)

You get the drift, right? Yes, Stein takes traditionally Jewish/Hebrew words and puts a kitschy spin on them, creating wordage that is convenient for just about any and all circumstances in your techy, cheesy, Yiddish-style life. The only thing I would have liked to see in this book that was overlooked, was how the author could have spelled out these modern twists on ages old words in Hebrew characters. Just a thought, but I think it would be a cute, unique addition to add a little Hebrew spice to an already fantastic book.

I mean, I can imagine how you'd write out challahscopy ... 'חלהסקופ?

Rolling on Shabbos.

*Tap, Tap* Anyone out there? I've been mute for many days now, for a variety of reasons but mostly that I have been quite busy and engrossed in readings for class and worksheets for Hebrew. I've also had some time to reflect on this past Shabbos, which, to be honest, was the most disappointing in recent memory.

Now, I know what you're thinking: Really? Disappointing? Get over it! It's just Shabbos! But the thing of it is, without a proper or near-proper Shabbos, my week doesn't begin or end, it just is, and this causes great stress for me. I had hoped to stay on campus for a Mexican-themed Shabbat dinner, but because of Tuvia's schedule and a desire to spend Shabbos with him, it didn't work out. He rushed out after work, picked me up, and we rushed home to beat the Sabbath clock. Already upset that we weren't able to make it to shul, we entered his house, which, I immediately  noticed, was freezing. The thermostat was set to hit 68, but it was at a mere 52 degrees. Thus, I davened Kabbalat Shabbat. Tuvia set off to check the heater, and, as it turned out, the motor was broken. He had to call a repairman, and had to run off to help his theater group set up a screen because he's the youngest and most agile of the group. I stayed home, lamenting the loss of the day already. I sat and read, which turned out to be fruitful after I came upon an article by Isaac Gottlieb in the AJS Journal on "The Politics of Pronunciation," a text workup about the halakhic arguments regarding Ashkenazim and Sephardim and how they approach prayers and pronunciation. But still, the day was lost already. The man came and fixed the heater, but it took nearly three hours. We played a game, and went to sleep, knowing that in the morning there were other reasons that would create cause to leave home, breaking Shabbos further. The morning arrived, the day went along, and havdalah approached. I'll admit to feeling relieved with havdalah, feeling a brisk touch of the end of Shabbos, but the reality of the week approaching. How disappointing, how lacking, how disappointed I was in myself.

Perhaps sensing my frustration, by some stroke of luck, Tuvia and I have been invited to a bulk of Shabbos and Jewishly oriented activities over the next few weeks. Tu B'Shevat will be spent at the Orthodox shul, as we were invited to a dinner there, and the next Friday we'll be at the home of a friend in West Hartford for services at the other Orthodox shul, followed by a dinner with friends, and a lunch the next day in honor of the birth of one of the Chabad rabbi's new baby girls. It is without possibility that the next few weeks will be lacking.

But it's such a basic commandment -- Zakhor et yom ha-Shabbat l'kad'sho (Exodus 20:8). That is, remember the Sabbath day to sanctify it. I was telling Tuvia that I wish, absolutely wish that it were attainable for him or me or us to live in West Hartford, in a religious community, so that it is easier, more feasible, more doable to keep the Sabbath. You don't have to drive to shul, you walk, you make it there. You have Sabbath dinner with each other, or with friends. You go to services in the morning, you take your Sabbath walk in the eruv, you take a nap, you have havdalah, you go about your way. I understand entirely why communities cling to one another, why Jewish communities thrive within themselves. It just makes sense. It's logical! This is why, when planning our trip to Chicago for early March, I insisted on finding a hotel within walking distance to the shul I used to go to there. I want to have a Shabbos, darn't. I want to make a traveling Shabbos happen!

I can't help it, but I seek perfection. I know there is no such thing, but I crave it. I want it the Lebowski way -- I don't roll on Shabbos!

On a lighter (more unfortunate) note, in an effort to live entirely out of my dorm room, I managed to set off the fire alarm for the complex this morning while toasting some bread in my toaster oven. I burned my knuckle quite horribly while pulling the burned pieces out of the oven, throwing them into the trash and thrusting open the windows to air the room out. My fear? I'll be reprimanded and told that I can't have the toaster oven. Of course, there is another Jew in the complex who supposedly has an entire kitchen in his room, so why not me?

Is it Friday yet?

Parshah Bo: Reflected!

In an effort to reconnect with the weekly Torah portion, I've started looking through my old posts from when I was reading the portion each week and writing a d'var of sorts. Since I've gone back to school, I spend a great deal of time in texts, but I don't really spend a lot of time relating personally to them so much as I do academically to them. Being a Jewish person mastering in Judaic studies, I think this can be a common thing. It's one thing if you're learning in seminary or yeshivah, and it's an entirely different thing if iyou're studying in a public university, as I am. I prefer to learn in a public university, to be completely honest, but I think I miss out on the spiritual side of learning sometimes. With that said, I bring you some of my comments, with amendations, for Parashat Bo, which I wrote in January 2007 -- a whole two years ago, yikes! I have deleted some comments entirely, and you can read the full original post at the January 2007 link, and additional comments are in bold. There's nothing particularly profound here, so pardon the simplicity of my observations.

-------------------------------------------------------------

In this parshah are the three final plagues: locusts, darkness and, finally, the death of the first born. The Israelites leave the land, matzot and thousands in tow.

+ Ex. 10:14 "Locusts invaded all the land of Mitzrayim ... never before had there been so many, nor will there ever be so many again." I appreciate knowing that never again will a swarm of locusts be brought upon the land. It's comforting. (Still comforting!)

Rashi's comments on this:

And the one [the locust plague] that took place in the days of Joel, about which it is said: “the like of which has never been” (Joel 2:2), [from which] we learn that it was more severe than that of [the plague in the days of] Moses-namely because that one was [composed] of many species [of locusts] that were together: arbeh, yelek, chasil, [and] gazam; but [the locust plague] of Moses consisted of only one species [the arbeh], and its equal never was and never will be.

+ Having never read through the Bible/Torah before, even in my youth (I was raised w/o religion, essentially), I was unfamiliar with some of the plagues. Perhaps the one I was most unfamiliar with is the Ninth Plague -- darkness. The sages surmise that it wasn't physical darkness, such as that brought by a sandstorm or eclipse, but rather that it was "a spiritual or psychological darkness, a deep depression." The Torah reads, "People could not see one another, and for three days no one could get up from where he was" (Ex. 10:23). The commentary comments that people suffering from depression often lack the energy to move about or to concern themselves with others, focusing instead on themselves. (Deleted sections.)

The commentary reads: "The person who cannot see his neighbor is incapable of spiritual growth, incapable of rising from where he is currently." Amid the Ninth Plague, "People could not see one another." The Catch 22 of depression is that, oftentimes, one feels so absolutely alone that he or she is driven into the depths of darkness where it is most lonely. Yet, if the person is incapable of seeing his or her neighbor to begin with, and within darkness is also unable to see his or her neighbor, what is to release them so that they can attain spiritual growth? (Deleted sections.)

+ I cherish the explanation behind the creation of the Jewish calendar in Ex. 12:2 and why our calendar follows the moon, as opposed to the sun: "Just as G-d showed Noah the rainbow as a sign of the covenant, G-d shows Moses the sliver of the new moon as a symbol of Israel's capacity for constant renewal (Hirsch)." What a brilliant concept and explanation. So I have to wonder if this is why the Jewish calendar has persisted throughout all of these years, through the creation of the Gregorian calendar and the ever-changing calendar that we have today (I mean, if we can move Daylight Savings ..). How is it that we have managed to keep this calendar? It blows my mind at the persistence of our people, our traditions, our livelihood. The covenant, then, must surely be eternal. I see no other explanation for the continuity of the Jewish people! It's quite inspiring and motivating.

+ Ex. 12:24 "You shall observe this as an institution for all time" -- why do we no longer offer up the paschal sacrifice then? I think that my questioning of this at the time was quite juvenile. Tied to Temple worship, sacrificing was replaced by rabbinic Judaism at the Temple's destruction. There is a group -- the Samaritans -- that still fulfills the commandment of the paschal sacrifice, but the thing of it is, they aren't doing it in the Temple, and I'm pretty sure there are some halakhic issues involved. 

(Deleted portion, mostly because I have no idea what I was talking about!)

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Of course, if you'd like some more concrete, revealing, fascinating takes on this weeks Torah portion, I suggest you hit up Chabad.org, mostly because it's chock full of interesting bits about the portion. You can also find the portion with Rashi's commentary there, which I always appreciate. You can visit the OU.org website for parshah info, too.

Truly Unique, Defiance

Last Saturday, after some tenuous debate, Tuvia and I went to see "Defiance ," the much lauded true story staring Daniel Craig, Liev Schrieber and others. For those who don't know, the film is about a group of brothers -- of which I originally thought there were three, but as it turned out there were four -- who build a band of Jewish survivors/partisans in the forests of Eastern Europe (then-Poland, now western Belarus). The brothers -- Tuvia, Zus, Asael, and Aron -- help shelter hundreds in the forests starting in 1941, and at the war's end, there were 1,200 people who had been sheltered in the Naliboki forest.

The movie itself was surprising, compared to many Holocaust period films. I was shocked, and almost dismayed to see some of the violence committed by Jews on non-Jews and Nazis. Now, I want to explain myself so that people don't think I'm being sympathetic toward Nazis. I don't want to give anything away in the film, but there is a lot of vengeance killing, and although we later see that there is reversal where the brothers seek to save Jews, not kill non-Jews, it was incredibly difficult to watch. Many Holocaust movies portray Jews as timid, wanting to fight back but unwilling. This movie is quite the contrary, and this seeming anomaly is portrayed in conversations between Zus and a Russian military officer with whom he comes to work. It was an interesting aspect of the film that made it, well, all the more real.

What's more -- beyond the amazing musical score and cinematics and acting -- the movie became even more real when Tuvia and I learned that he knows members of the Bielski family. In fact, the grandchildren of one of the brothers even went to Tuvia's school! It is truly a small world when it comes to the Jewish community, but the reality of the film was magnified at that point.

This movie is perhaps most unique because we don't see Jews in a ghetto or in a camp -- we see them building homes in the forest, starving in the winter, fighting for their lives, traveling helplessly through bogs and marshes, creating relationships while knowing full well that their former families have died, and more. It's a unique perspective on Jews during the Shoah, and one that I have yet to see portrayed outside of this film.

I applaud the filmmakers, the actors (especially Liev Schrieber, who seems to make his way into every Shoah film on the planet), and those who take the time to view the movie. It's a beautiful story, just beautiful, and inspiring in ways that nothing else can compare.

Comicly Styling the Talmud

This very well could be the most awesome idea ever: Talmud comics! The great thing is, they aren't cheesy or ridiculous, they're actually quite beautiful and thoughtfully drawn.

Hat tip to Menachem Mendal and Jewschool.

Snow Day!

It's not that I'm trying to complain, but in Nebraska? It would take about five feet of snow and gale-force winds for them to cancel school. I'm serious. People wouldn't always go to class, but it took a LOT more than what it took the University of Connecticut to cancel school today. Okay, so maybe I'm a little upset that I was up till 2:30 in the morning reading and actually enjoying myself and now classes are canceled. Nu? I could have been sleeping.

Anyway, I suppose I should say "Hooray for Snow Day!"

For everyone else who is covered is snow like our little squirrelly friend over here? Please drive safe and stay warm today. No need to become a human snowman.

Vespasian and the Western Wall

I've spent the past week and a half stressing out, intensely, about this semester. My stress has largely been in regards to my Talmud class, a subject which I'm well informed on the outer limits of, but of which I have spent little time in the middle. I arrived home today exhausted after spending five hours looking at archives and compiling information on various states and their populations. I ate dinner, and took a nap. I woke up, still tired, stressed out, grumpy, frustrated. I purchased a coffee, came back to my room, and dove in to papers by scholars about reading rabbinics as history, whether the Talmuds contain hardcore, one-place and one-time history, or whether people read them wrong. Perhaps, as it says, the stories tell us more about the people than about the events. Who knows. The papers were sort of dry, sort of uninteresting, very much of the ego-stroking quality. In other words, very dense materials. I decided to put aside some of the academic papers for a packet on Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakkai and the episode involving his interactions with Vespasian (or Titus?) and the inevitable arrival of the rabbi in Yavneh, which became the hotbed of rabbinic activity in a post-Destruction of the Temple period, where the Oral Torah became what we know of it today.

But, I'll blog about the episode -- and the four different accounts from BT Gittin 56b, Lamentations Rabbah 1:31, and two versions from The Fathers According to Rabbi Nathan -- at another time, because it's incredibly fascinating the subtle and obvious differences between the accounts and how the rabbi approached Vespasian, how Jerusalem fell, how the rabbi and his followers ended up in Yavneh, and the tales therein. But what I wanted to blog about quickly, before I throw myself into bed, is a take on why the Western Wall still stands to this day. It's pretty interesting. This portion comes from Lamentations Rabbah after Vespasian had subdued the city. At this time, he

assigned the destruction of the four ramparts to the four generals, and the western gate was allotted to Pangar. Now it had been decreed by Heaven that this should never be destroyed because the Shechina abode in the west. The others demolished their sections but he did not demolish his. Vespasian sent for him and asked, "Why did you not destroy your section?" He replied, "By your life, I acted so for the honour of the kingdom; for if I had demolished it, nobody would [in time come] know what it was you destroyed; but when people look [at the western wall], they exclaim, "Perceive the might of Vespasian from what he destroyed!" He said to him, "Enough, you have spoken well, but since you disobeyed my command, you shall ascend to the roof and throw yourself down. If you live, you will live; and if you die, you will die." He ascended, threw himself down and died.

An interesting take on why we still have HaKotel HaMa'aravi today, no? There are a few other morsels worth noting, which you can find at this Kotel website. Oh, and for good measure, the photo credit goes to me!

On that note, I'm heading to bed. Midrash will float about my head as I hopefully fall fast asleep. Tomorrow? I get the chance to delve into the topic in class.

Change -- Y-Love and DeScribe style.

DeScribe and Y-Love = AMAZING. This is such a stellar piece of musical awesomeness. Spread the word ... I really can't get over how talented Y-Love is. If you haven't taken up the man, then please, now is the time. The beat is good, the video is outstanding, the editing is great, and I am really loving the vibe.