Building Memory and Yizkor (Oh and Minecraft)

 

I'm just back from the funeral of a member.

The deceased had three sons, now in their 60s and 70s, and one is an architect; an architect who built synagogues. 

It had me thinking about the verse Tasu Li Mikdash v’Shechanti Botocham - Make for Me [God] a Sanctuary and I will amongst you.

The verse contains a disjunct

God wants a building NOT to dwell in the building – for God does not dwell in buildings – but rather so God can dwell in people - us.

People can be dwelling places for that which cannot be seen or directly experienced in a way that buildings cannot. For buildings are ultimately ... just buildings, and humans are refractions of the divine encoded into flesh - we are vessels for experiencing.

But the way humans experience, so often, is by encountering buildings, specifically buildings that are designed to infuse and encode into us the sensibilities woven into them as they were built.

And I was thinking about all this in the context of this bereavement – a matriarch who had passed away whose greatest act of building in life was that of a family, not of a literal building, but a figurative one – a figurative building into which she wove her values, values which infused her sons, her grandchildren and great-grandchildren even as they couldn’t be with her; trapped, as they were on the other side of the world; trapped, as she was on the other side of the veil that separates the living from the dead.

Of course, it’s not only architects who build. It’s not even only the engineers and the plumbers and the plasterers and the painters.

Each of us, in our varied professional encounters, and personal encounters, we are all building as we go. Forgive me, this simile might not work for many of you – but we are all avatars in Minecraft pumping out construction before us at every turn. 

What if we were to accept ourselves as building-creatures, always building everywhere we go, always building spaces which embed within those who encounter them the very fabric of the values and norms with which we erect the buildings that survive our disappeared presence?

The human life as a life of building.

Actually, it’s not a new idea.

The end of the first Masechet of the Talmud Bavli, Brachot ends with a Rabbinic re-reading of a verse from Isiah.

Brachot 64

אָמַר רַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר אָמַר רַבִּי חֲנִינָא: תַּלְמִידֵי חֲכָמִים מַרְבִּים שָׁלוֹם בָּעוֹלָם, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: ״וְכׇל בָּנַיִךְ לִמּוּדֵי ה׳ וְרַב שְׁלוֹם בָּנָיִךְ״. אַל תִּקְרֵי ״בָּנָיִךְ״ אֶלָּא ״בּוֹנָיִךְ״.

In the original, the prophet suggests that our children, studying about God make for more peace in the world.

In the re-reading Rabbi Chanina is reported to say, don’t say, ‘your children,’ but rather ‘your builders’ – not Banaich, but Bonaich. The Rabbi conflates the human with the builder, for we are, surely, one and the same.

 

I’m reminded too of almost the last reported words of Abraham Joshua Heschel, the great Rabbi of the last century. In an interview just before his death, in 1972, Heschel gave this instruction.

‘Above all,’ he insisted, ‘remember that the meaning of life is to build a life as if it were a work of art. You are not a machine. Start working on this great work of art called your own existence.

Build a life as the great work of art of our existence.

Heschel’s nephew is a member here, of course, and an architect. Perhaps that’s not a coincidence. Of course it's not a coincidence, nothing is ever a coincidence. 

So, what if we were, truly, to see our existence as a great work of art, a building, a building that through our actions and our inactions, shapes and structures the way that those who came into contact with it would be lifted, or crushed, by that interaction. Build a life with holiness and dedication, and we’ll successfully code into those we encounter, holiness and dedication. Build a life with love and we code into those we encounter love.

 

This is the end of the Festival of Pesach, we are standing here at a Yizkor service. And I wonder if the reverse is true. When we think of those we have loved and lost, what is the building they have left behind? It’s us, touched, shaped, borne, of our parents’ great acts of creation. But it’s also the other shapes we see around us when we reflect on what our parents, and those we have loved and lost have left as their markers still, on the other side of their passing.

What are the values and the coding of their Mikdashim? How are we to detect their encouragement to us to live up to the standards of holiness that their life built around us?

 

We’ve been in darkness, and now we are emerging.

We’ve been in Egypt and now are in the wilderness.

We’ve been in lockdown and now we are in – whatever it is – Step 2 stage B.

It’s a good time to build with the intent of inspiring in those who will wander into those buildings holiness, love, the values we would wish to survive us.

And it’s a good time to reflect on the buildings that have formed us, left by those who loved us and formed us. What are the markers of these buildings that we wish to allow ourselves to feel are truly of them, and in so doing, we make their memories a blessing.

Chag Sameach

 --

Photographs are the work of Stanley Saitowitz, http://www.saitowitz.com/

In honour of Zelda Saitowitz of blessed memory

On Same-Sex Ceremonies of Commitment at New London Synagogue

 

 For some reason, this didn't make it onto the blog in 2016 when written, better late than never :-).

We've been doing same-sex ceremonies for five years, at time of posting. We use language of 'marriage' 'wedding' and also 'Kiddushin' as discussed in the paper. 

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On 16^th January 2016 the membership of New London Synagogue voted, at an Extraordinary General Meeting, to accept the following proposals.

 

1.       The Synagogue should offer a religious ceremony of commitment for same-sex couples as detailed in the paper that follows. As soon as possible the procedures for registering such ceremonies under the provisions of the 2013 Marriage (Same-Sex Couples) Act shall be pursued.

2.       That same-sex couples should be offered the same welcome and support in the community as heterosexual couples in all ways.

The proposals arose from a paper from Rabbi Jeremy, reproduced below, which details the reasoning behind this decision and includes links to extensive Halachic (Jewish legal) reasoning. Anyone wishing to discuss such a service should contact the Rabbi by email in the first instance.

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This, and other issues related to same-sex commitment, test every element of our religious and congregational make-up. In the paper that follows there are reflections on theology, the role of ritual, the nature of married life and the realities of congregational change. That said I believe the question of whether and how New London should offer ceremonies for those committed to those of the same-sex can be distilled down to five key questions; three of which I find easy to answer, the other two of which are difficult.

 

I've structured this paper around these key five questions and included a number of excurses - an idea lifted from Rabbi Jacobs' work Principles of the Jewish Faith - to engage with some of the broader questions that the direct engagement with such ceremonies beg. Rather than use footnotes there are hypertext links to other documents, Youtube videos and the like for those interested in further detail.

 

At this point this paper is drafted for the purpose of allowing congregational consultation. The recommendations for next steps are included towards its conclusion.

 

The First Easy Question

Our key question must be this; 'what do we want for Jews who are only attracted to those of the same sex?'

I don't struggle to answer this question, it's the same answer I would give to any Jew; I want these Jews to find other Jews with whom they can make a bet ne'eman b'yisrael - a faithful house in Israel. I want these Jews to feel New London Synagogue is a welcoming and non-judgemental community for them and, should they be so blessed, their families.

 

Excursus - Sex

I've spent a great deal of time studying and teaching issues around the kinds of sexual intimacy our tradition deems permissible and prohibited both between same-sex and heterosexual couples. Source sheets and a video of my most recent presentation on the subject can be found here and here. I follow the position taken in this very detailed working through of the issues in a responsum accepted by the Masorti Committee on Jewish Law and Standards (CJLS). This responsum finds a single act of homosexual male-to-male intimacy forbidden, but permits other acts of sexual intimacy between couples of the same sex in the context of committed, ritually-affirmed relationships of love. But, frankly, not much of this study impacts on the position I take in the paragraph above. There are standards of sexual behaviour our tradition mandates for couples of all sexual orientations. The welcome and openness I attempt to offer, both as a gatekeeper of the Jewish tradition and as an employee of this community, is not predicated on whether - and forgive the bluntness of the language - our straight members might be engaging in sexual practices that breach Halachah. That is not to condone breaches of Halachah, that is rather to separate issues of welcome from issues of acceptance of behaviour.

 

Those who find the Torah's use of the term toevah to refer to those who engage in male-to-male anal intercourse such an absolute taboo as to drive a level of disengagement from both gay and lesbian desire for intimate companionship are encouraged to understand that I do not consider anal-intercourse between men permissible, but are also directed to this analysis of the uses of the term toevah throughout the Hebrew Bible (or those seeking a lighter, if blunter, analysis this clip from the TV show The West Wing).

 

Excursus - Procreation

The oft-raised issue of procreation should be treated similarly. There is a wonderful Midrash (Shir HaShirim Rabbah 1:4.2) in which an infertile couple, back in the days when this used to happen, prepare to separate having been married for ten years without producing offspring. Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai allows the wife to take one thing from the matrimonial house - and she takes her husband. The Halachah changes and infertile couples are no longer expected to divorce (SA EH 1.3 Rema). Of course procreation is important, but sanctified intimate companionship in Judaism is, and has always been, about a lot more than procreation. Even putting aside the notion that same-sex couples, by varying means, are able to raise children, it is necessary to distinguish between a commitment to procreation and the question of the welcome we should offer those attracted to members of the same-sex.

 

Excursus - New London Synagogue and the Toleration of that Which is Not Halachically Acceptable

This is one of my favourite 'Louis' stories. In the old days the Jacobs family lived on the other side of the St Johns Wood High Street from the Synagogue. And on Shabbat, rather than cut across the High Street - with the possibility of seeing members, God forbid, emerging from shops and cafes on the Holy Sabbath Day, Rabbi Jacobs would take the long route home. It wasn't condoning a breach of Halachah, it was placing his own discomfort - the extra journey time - below that of embarrassing a fellow New London member in public. As a community we have always, rightly, been proud of our non-judgemental and broadly welcoming attitude to all. We have never used Halachic non-compliance as a reason for turning away anyone who would otherwise want to be part of our community.

 

The First Difficult Question - What Now?

What role should a Synagogue play in helping a same-sex couple create a bet ne'eman b'yisrael - a faithful house in Israel? I'm not asking about civil legal protection, that part is easy. We certainly would support the protections offered by the State to those in same-sex relationships, but should we offer anything in addition to these protections within the Synagogue community?

 

Currently we adopt a sort of 'don't ask, don't tell' approach that communicates to those attracted only to the same-sex that we will accept their sexuality without offering any religious marker of their choice of life partner. But this seemingly clear-cut distinction frays in the realities of the lives lived by our members.

 

When a same-sex couples announce they wish their relationship to be acknowledged as significant do we print a congratulation in our newsletter, do we use the loaded term 'Mazal Tov?' There are a myriad of incremental decisions one simply can't escape making - as a member or as a Synagogue. Should we record same-sex couples as families on our databases? Do we offer baby blessings to couples who have a child, or announce an adoption? If we do offer a baby blessing, do we sing Mazal Tov in full voice, or in a tone designed to communicate (or unable to hide) our ambivalent approval/disapproval of such a family?

 

Excursus - How to Say Mazal Tov When You Feel Uneasy

Judaism is a pursuit of truth, normally. But not absolutely, certainly not when the feelings of another are at risk. The classic text on the appropriateness of a 'white lie' comes in a response to the question - how should one dance before an ugly bride on their wedding day? (Ketubot 16b-17a). Shammai insists the ugly bride is to treated as she is. Hillel - who models our normative response - insists we say she is beautiful and graceful. At a wedding, regardless of whether one finds the parties under the Chuppah attractive, we are commanded to dance with joy. To do otherwise is cruel and cruelty can never be holy. At a wedding you have to say Mazal Tov as if you mean it with your whole heart, even if you don't.

 

We can make the claim that it is possible to construct a myriad of responses, both explicit and implicit, that count as being fully supportive and welcoming of same-sex couples without offering a religious ceremony designed to celebrate same-sex coupling in the same way that heterosexual coupling is celebrated - indeed this is what we currently do at New London. But I am not convinced. It can sound a little like the treatment of Jews in the bad-old-days of 'acceptable' English antisemitism. We were, as English Jews, allowed some access to some parts of English society, but in a myriad of ways, both subtle and gross, we were informed we were only being tolerated and that the openness of our host community was tempered by limits and quotas. We were encouraged to feel these limits weren't brazenly antisemitic but we knew how our surrounding society truly felt about us. Old fashioned 'acceptable' antisemitism wasn't acceptable. I feel the same about our current approach. The 'don't ask, don't tell' approach is half-hearted; there is some welcome, but a lot of pushing-away. I don't like it and I don't accept it models the best of who we, as a community, are and should be. If we are to adopt the status-quo as our formal position, at the very least, we should admit of its pushing-away qualities; making clear the rejection of those attracted only to those of the same-sex. I don't believe we are a community that should, or genuinely wishes to do that. Certainly, as a Rabbi and member here, I do not wish to do that.

 

On the other hand there is a level of pain associated in making a dramatic change to the range of lifecycle offerings we offer as a community. I know there are members who relate to same-sex physicality attraction on a scale between incomprehension and aversion. I'm among members who have been on a journey in terms of understanding what it means to support those who find themselves attracted in this way. I know there are members here who are so hostile to a significant change on these issues that they share that a decision of the community to offer a specific same-sex ceremony would lead them to feel alienated from a community they might have been members of for decades. I don't like debates that threaten the sense of security of any of our members.

 

If there is a cost to the status quo, there is a cost entailed in making a change. That is what makes this a difficult decision.

 

The Second Easy Question - Where should the pain fall?

In many ways the question about whether or not to perform these ceremonies is a question about where we want the pain to fall. We can allow the same-sex attracted members of the community to carry the pain of our limited toleration of their sexuality. Or we, finding ourselves as gatekeepers of the norms of this community, can shoulder that pain ourselves; even if we do not understand what might draw a person only to a member of their own sex; even if we experience a level of uneasiness around what such a new venture might mean for traditional Jewish life.

 

Put like this, I find an easy answer. When faced with a choice as to who should bear a pain the Jewish tradition responds with an almost unheard of unanimity. The secure and the entitled are commanded to bear the pain on behalf of the insecure and the excluded. This command finds its sharpest articulation in the oft-repeated Torah mandate to love the stranger, the outsider amongst the community of Israel. We should love the outsider because we know the experience of the outsider, for we were outsiders in the land of Egypt. We are asked to place ourselves in the position of the other and make the decision they would wish us to make. I know the experience of so many same-sex attracted Jews trying to make their way in the broader Jewish community has been one of being 'othered,' excluded and objectified. The central claim of a Jewish morality is that the people who experience exclusion are precisely the people who should not have to bear the pain of the discomfort they might instil among those who count themselves as normative.

 

Certainly I don't look at those who are attracted to those of the same sex as cursed or choosing to place themselves in such a situation; and therefore responsible for their own pain with no suggestion that I might be called upon to share in this burden. That seems entirely wrong.

 

Excursus - On God & Humans

Somewhere, on this issue, one needs to come to a theological decision about the nature of the desire towards same-sex physical intimacy. If one sees this desire as equivalent to the desire to eat bacon, or steal, then the correct response to feeling this desire is suppression of action. Suppression results in the potential thief walking past the opportunity for thievery and the pork-phile not eating pork. But it leads someone attracted only to those of the same-sex condemned to a life without intimate companionship. That seems cruel on a very different level to the level of pain suffered by a kleptomaniac or pork-phile. After all the Torah itself mandates it is not good for a person to live alone.

 

On a theological level I am simply unable to believe God created some people specifically in order to test their ability to live without intimate companionship. Rather I see the sexuality of a fellow human being as a part of their creation in the image of the divine, as a part of the essential humanity of a human. And the correct response to an element of our essential humanity (as Jews) is to express that essence with decency and respect for one's fellow in the context of a Halachic framework that engages with every element of our lives. This is not hedonism, this is the search to find and walk on a path of decency within a broader Jewish community.

 

The Third Easy Question - What does it mean to be welcoming?

If we do want to be welcoming there is only one option. We need a ceremony that seeks to offer same-sex couples the same power afforded heterosexual couples.

 

Excursus - The Nature of the Power of the Wedding Ceremony

I've had the great pleasure of officiating at over 200 wedding ceremonies and, to distil the whole affair into a sentence I believe the Jewish wedding ceremony is a blessing, given in the name of God and the Jewish people, in the sight of friends and family. This blessing, I believe, gives strength to the couple on the uneven road of a life-time's monogamous commitment. And at the heart of this blessing is the term kiddushin. The Hebrew root K-D-SH is usually translated as 'holy,' but more technically the root suggests 'exclusion;' you can't have that which is kodesh. God, of course, is the ultimate-ungraspable. But when, at a heterosexual wedding, a groom says 'behold you are meKuDeSHet to me,' the bride becomes excluded for all other partners. Monogamy and holiness are wrapped up together in one moment.

 

I'm arrogant enough to believe that our same-sex attracted couples need the same public affirmation of this holy exclusivity, wrapped up in a blessing - a gashbanka or stamp of acceptability - which can strengthen their commitments to one another and a Jewish future. I'm humble enough to know we, as a community, needs the commitment of all of its members if we are to have the bold, bright future we wish for ourselves.

 

Certain elements of a heterosexual ceremony ensure the ceremony is seen as an act of kiddushin - a commitment to sanctified exclusivity and not a second-class ambivalent toleration; a canopy - chuppah, a document, rings, wine ... I also think that we should offer the same access to provisions in civil law that heterosexual couples are afforded. I don't think you can offer heterosexual couples a full service in both religious and civil matters and tell same-sex couples to go to the Town Hall.

 

Some of the legal mechanisms of a heterosexual ceremony can't / shouldn't be drafted into a same-sex ceremony. These are the mechanisms of kinyan - acquisition. Kinyan - of the bride! - is at the centre of Halachic models of heterosexual marriage. Traditionally a bride is at the very least (and the point is hotly debated) very close to a 'chattel' which the groom 'acquires' through the rituals of a traditional wedding. I do not advocate drawing these elements of the traditional heterosexual ceremony into the rituals for same-sex couples.

 

I believe New London Synagogue should offer ceremonies along the lines discussed above. See also this responsum of the CJLS which sets out a number of options for ceremonies (including material regarding dissolution of relationships).

 

Excursus - On Acquisition in Heterosexual Marriage

Increasingly I am not being asked to perform entirely traditional heterosexual marriage ceremonies where the groom is 'koneh' - acquiring - and the bride is 'nikneit' - acquired. Rather couples are using more mutual ritual including egalitarian Ketubah language - as discussed here and mutual language around rings which become, no longer the consideration in a transaction of a quasi-bridal-purchase, but rather the symbol of two individuals coming together in a partnership - shutafut. I discussed the Halachic validity of this egalitarian ceremony in a class available to view here. See also the paper by my colleague, Rabbi Joel Levy, on page 16 of this publication.

 

Excursus - On Kinyan and Kiddushin in Masorti Discussion of Same-Sex Ceremonies

In the key responsum accepted by the CJLS, the following sentence, appears; 'Commitment ceremonies that avoid the legal mechanisms of kiddushin may be designed for gay and lesbian couples.' This sentence is also at the heart of a paper on Partnership Ceremonies for Same-Sex Couples authored by my colleague and senior rabbi of the Masorti Movement in this country, Jonathan Wittenberg. Unfortunately this sentence conflates two distinct ideas;

·       One being the legal mechanisms of traditional heterosexual ceremonies, most accurately referred to as kinyan, but here confusingly associated with the term kiddushin.

·       The second being the notion of a sanctified exclusivity - which is the spiritual meaning and outcome of the term kiddushin once freed of the legal mechanisms of kinyan.

It is clear that the authors of this responsum are fully in favour of sanctified exclusivity, so are, as I understand matters, every other supporter of these ceremonies. When I use the term kiddushin in this paper, and advocate for its inclusion in same-sex ceremonies, I refer to sanctified exclusivity, not the legal mechanisms.

 

Excursus - New Jewish Lifecycle Ceremonies

When has Judaism created a new lifecycle-ritual? When hasn't Judaism created new life-cycle rituals. The Bar Mitzvah is new, the Bat Mitzvah is newer - originating in 1922. The blessings of welcome shared with baby Jewish girls are new. The heterosexual marriage undergoes a complete transformation between Biblical and Rabbinic periods (a process clearly set out here). In the former there was a mohar - a price paid by the bride's family to the groom. In the latter there was a ketubah - a sum nominally placed in escrow by the groom for the benefit of the bride. It is one of the greatest truths of Rabbi Louis Jacobs' career's work, Judaism is a living tree, continually shifting and evolving.

 

The Second Difficult Question - How should New London Synagogue address the pain entailed in making such a ceremony available?

In the December 2014 survey of members 56% of the 240 members who responded said they did want to see these services offered. 19% said they had no opinion, or wanted to learn more about the issue, 25% were opposed to seeing these services offered. We are, just as in the case of the our conversations on the role of women, having to weigh up questions around democracy - are all members equal in their claims over the future of the Shul, what is the power of the status quo, and the dangers and necessities of change. This is all complex.

 

Many of the members opposed to our offering these services are already struggling with changes in the Shul on the role of women, though there are many who are pro one issue and opposed to the other. Many members opposed to this change are members of long-standing (that is not to say that all long-standing members are opposed to this change). I am aware that I take a very different stance from my august predecessor, Rabbi Louis Jacobs in a number of his general writings on the subject. I have a sympathy for members of the community who feel the community is moving away from their expectations of membership leaving them to feel less at home in their Jewish home. That is not easy.

 

On the other hand I feel more clarity about the long-term future of the community on this issue. I can't see the future of this community being one where we fail to offer these ceremonies. Nor do I want New London to be the sort of community that tells some of its members they are only half-welcome, in the way discussed above.

 

This is a change I believe we should make. The question of pace is one that is complex but, partly because ceremonies will only directly impact on those who choose to attend such a ceremony, I recommend that we begin offering ceremonies with immediate effect. We should pursue the linking of civil marriage protection also with immediate effect, although in practice it might take a while for civil arrangements to be made. As far as announcements, recognition and support of couples we should adopt a policy of warm unstinting support, again with immediate effect.

 

Does Megilat Esther Prophecy The Hanging of Nazi War Criminals?

 

There’s a Devar Torah wandering around that associates the Ten Sons of Haman, who are recorded as hanging in the Megilah, with the ‘Ten Sons’ of Hitler – the ten senior Nazis who hung as a result of the Nuremberg Trials.

Google suggests a number of tellers of this ‘Devar’ including

Ohr Sameach - https://ohr.edu/holidays/purim/deeper_insights/3440

Rabbi Baruch Mellman - https://www.poconorecord.com/article/20100227/features/2270324

Rabbi Bernhard Rosenberg - https://www.mycentraljersey.com/story/life/faith/2015/03/04/purim-heroine-esther-prophesy-nazis/24273719/

And ‘Ollie’ from J-TV - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzaJZ0bGe0s

Wikipedia attributes the idea to ‘research’ conducted by  Rabbi Mordechai Neugroschel

I first encountered it yesterday in a message that came back from my sons’ school. The incredible Jewish informal education team (known as JIEP) managed to deliver Mishloach Manot to 3,000 home-bound students and in the bag with the edible goodies was this Devar Torah. And I applaud the delivery and the love of the team. But, oh my, did I hate the Devar. So I sent this to the school.

 

 

 

Oh my.

 

JIEP just pulled off a Mishloach Manot home delivery to every student in the school. That is incredible. What an inspiring and deeply touching way to symbolise the bond between students and the school, especially at a time when you as a team, and your students, must be missing the joy of a Purim celebration on campus especially. Thank you, thank you, thank you and hurrah.

 

Can I, however, share one thing. I had a look through the accompanying booklet and, forgive me, I hated the Dvar Torah. It was unattributed (Pirkei Avot 6:6) and I don’t want to be rude, but ….

 

I love Megilat Ester. What could be more inspiring than a tale of a young Jew living in a non-Jewish world who finds the strength to stand strong, even in the face of so much? But the Devar Torah chose to stress the importance of the prescient prophetic nature of the Megilah in predicting the hanging of the ‘Nuremberg Ten’ in the Hebrew year 5707. Well, I can enjoy a good Devar Torah suggesting the prescient nature of our sacred scriptures. But the message was demonstrated with reference to scribal orthography – big letter and small letters. Hmmm. Is the point that the revelation on Sinai included scribal orthography? Of course, scribal orthography has a history, I don’t know anyone who claims the scribal orthography of the Megillah is ‘MiSinai’ and it seems a strange thing to place importance on, not least since there are so many different Megillot with different letters larger or smaller than the letters the Devar Torah found to be so significant. And, yes I know the Gemarah about Moses, Rabbi Akiva and the Tagin but does finding attested Megillot with different sized letter make the Devar Torah weaker? Or the Megilah? Or the faith of my sons, your students?

 

Then there is the matter of the gematria. With a flourish the Devar Torah announces that the three small letters add up to 707 – which is true. And that the large letter, a ‘vav,’ thereby counts as a reference to the sixth century giving rise to Hebrew year 5707. Well, no. Just no. ‘Vav’ is never ‘5.’ I’ve spent time wandering through the gematria obsessed worlds of Chaim Vital and Moshe Cordevero and Baal HaTurim. And reading Vav as 5000+ is … well I’m not world’s greatest Gematria maven, but I’ve never seen it. So maybe ten future evildoers will be hung in the Hebrew year 6707, but I don’t suppose any of us will be around to see it.

 

And hang on (pause while checking Wikipedia), when exactly were these ten modern sons of Haman hung (putting aside the issue of whether the Nazis hung in the Nuremberg trial are indeed the sons of Hitler Yamoch Shemo)? The hangings took place on the 16^th October 1946 which is … drumroll … in the Hebrew year 5708. In other words, in the language and theology of the Devar Torah, the prophetic prescience of the Megilah is wrong. OK, maybe the prophetic prescience of the Megilah accurately predicted the date when the ten Nazi ‘sons’ were sentenced to hang. Well … there were 12 Nazis sentenced to hang in the Hebrew year 5707. Herman Goring committed suicide rather than face the noose and Martin Borman was in absentia.  Does that make the Megilah less impressive? Does that threaten to weaken a love of the Megilah, or Judaism or God? If the wonderful Mishloach Manot came in a sturdy receptacle, the Devar Torah just felt like a wet paper bag.

 

Aside from being wrong and without scientific justification, I have a problem with the whole notion of placing this kind of emphasis on the prophetic prescience of the Megilah – especially when the Megilah is connected to modern sources of evil.

 

As Eliot Horowitz showed in his book Reckless Rites: Purim and the Legacy of Jewish Violence, there is a direct connection between this sort of ‘Torah’ drawn from the Megilah and Jewish violence. This Devar Torah is just the sort of ‘Torah’ marshalled by Baruch Goldstein and his supporters to justify a massacre by a Jew, A JEW, at Hebron, on Purim 1994, or as we are now supposedly supposed to call it ותשנ'ד. Spurred on by just this kind of ‘theology’ and ‘exegesis’ Goldstein felt somehow justified in seeing the living image of sons of Haman before him in the Cave of Machpelah and shot dead 29 innocent humans created in the image of God. Cheerleading for prophetic prescience in sacred texts is one thing, but the Megilah is a dangerous text to be used in the context of modern evils – especially so tendentiously. I’m not suggesting that this is within a million miles of the intent of the author of this Devar Torah. But the Devar Torah is a strengthening of a ‘theology’ which leaves me utterly cold.

 

Hitler’s ‘ten sons’ were hung because of the exercise of justice and as a result of their own actions for which they rightly paid a price. They weren’t hung because of a gematria in the Megilah. I mean what if we really took seriously the notion that God did intend for our ancient Megilah to encode a secret message (one that could only be read post-hoc of course) that von Ribbentrop and Streicher and the rest of them would be hung some time in the mid-twentieth century? Does that mean that God was secretly moving chess pieces into position to ensure that Holocaust happened? Or does it mean that God had the Hashgachah and inclination to save the Jews of Shushan and encode an esotery into our ancient scripture but didn’t choose and/or wasn’t able to avert the murders of 6 million Jews under the Nazis? I mean the more I think about this Devar Torah the more I dislike it.

 

OK, rant over, thank you for hearing me out. And again, thank you and a huge hurrah and a happy Purim.

 

Remember This - Even When Tired

On the Shabbat before Purim – and this is the Shabbat before Purim – we read a passage reminding us of an attack on the Israelites,  “when you were tired – Ayef - and weary – Yagaya - and had no awe – Yirah - for God.” Amalek came then and, we are warned, Amalek will come again and again into our national future. Even beyond the point where God has given us rest from all the other enemies surrounding us.

 

Sure enough, in Kings we read of the battle between Saul and the Amalekite King Agag, and then, of course, comes Haman (boo) the Agagite.

 

In Chasidic thought Amalek becomes no longer a physical opponent, but rather a state of mind, the weakness that preys on our tiredness and weariness and our lack of Yirah – awe. It’s an interesting triplet. Tiredness, of course, comes to us all – it’s a function of sleep and effort and exists in the realm of the physical. If weariness is not to be identical with tiredness, therefore, it therefore becomes a more existential behaviour; giving up, not wanting to go on. And Yirah (for God) is entirely within the realm of the spiritual. Yirah is that which reminds who we are and our relationship with our Creator. Yirah reminds us how much we have to be grateful for. Yirah lifts us beyond our physical immediacy and places us before the Kiseh Cavod – God’s throne of glory. It becomes the force that can and should pull us away from existential torpor and give us strength, even in our physical tiredness. Its root is in the ability to turn our attention to that which is beyond our immediate physical need and tiredness. And Amalek is that which preys on an existential torpor grounded in a failure to realise we should be grateful.

 

Everyone gets tired, and these are surely the most wearisome of times, but we can’t allow our weariness to strip us of Yirah. In fact a little Yirah will give us strength even in the face of weariness. Feeling tired? Get out the house (if allowed), look towards the heavens, express gratitude. Feeling weary? Do something for someone else. Develop a sense of Yirah, particularly on Shabbat. Daven. Join us on-line or find your own way. Don’t lose Yirah, even when tired. Purim is coming.

 

Weddings, Forts, Ports and Covid

There are reports from Stamford Hill of ultra-orthodox Jewish weddings which are taking place illegally, stupidly and frankly murderously. The reports fill me with shame and anger. As one of the millions, no billions, of us struggling to hold life and soul gently in these pandemic-riddled times, I'm appalled. The notion that, today, these weddings are taking place is stunning.

Except, I suppose, it isn't.

Somehow, these weddings connect to a web of related tendencies, less criminal and less dangerous, but nonetheless connected. Theodor Zeldin, in his remarkable book, The Hidden Pleasures of Life, writes that the clash of civilisations can be attributed to the difference between those who wish to live in forts, and those who wish to live in ports. Says Zeldin 'fort dwellers see that which is beyond their immediate control as a threat, they turn inwards and seek to erect ever greater barricades to repulse a world beyond. On the other hand, port dwellers look to that which is beyond as the origin of hope, creativity and growth'.

We, at New London, are a true community of Port Jews; inheritors of the attitude of our founder Rabbi who was excited by the possibility of new knowledge even if it felt dangerous. In turn, Rabbi Jacobs was an inheritor of an attitude towards the Enlightenment that drew Jews out of ghettos self-imposed and otherwise. But ultra-orthodoxy built its remarkable strength on a rejection of new knowledge and its leaders have ploughed rejectionist furrows with ever greater fervour for the past hundred and fifty years. This is the attitude that resulted in ultra-orthodox leadership pillorying university education in the late 1800s, bullying Rabbi Jacobs in the 1960s, and treating Israeli society as a pork-barrel. It is, of course, vital to understand that so many of those who are swept up by the fervour and passion of these positions are simply naïve, but at a leadership level there is venality. And it hurts.

I'm still feeling raw - two weeks and 5,000km away - as a result of the 'Washington Insurrection.' That deathly attack on democracy is also part of a similar pathology that refuses to countenance sacred cows being threatened and calls for higher and thicker walls as if forts are the best way to face a world that is always changing.

It's so easy to feel fort-longing, particularly as we retreat behind closed doors to keep this virus at bay. But ports are stronger than forts. The walls of Jericho fell, as all walls do. The survival of humanity is not due to exoskeletons or claws or fangs. Rather we have survived to this point in our history through adaptability and the ability to assimilate the new.

From behind our doors, in this necessary quarantine, we must hold fast to our belief in the values of living as port Jews. We must keep our hearts and minds open. We must challenge the appeal of a lapse into insularity when we find it ourself, and in others. As Rav Kook said, the new must be rendered holy, and there is certainly much holy rendering of the new to be done. But it cannot be beaten back. Onwards, onwards,

Shabbat Shalom

https://jewishnews.timesofisrael.com/jn-investigation.../

The Times of Israel

Three Scrolls

A bit of a pop-quiz, for those who like that sort of thing and partic for those for whom sight of even one Torah Scroll would be a treat.

 

There are four times in the Jewish year when it’s necessary to read from three Torah scrolls.

 

And one is this week. It’s the first of the special extra readings that path the way towards Pesach (darkness to freedom, everyone, it is coming). The first of this is Parashat Shekalim – get your census payment ready, we all need to demonstrate we are still here. So we read that together with the weekly portion, Mishpatim – a collection of rules opening with a section inspiring us to take the brave step out of confinement into freedom. Shekalim is read on the Shabbat before Rosh Chodesh Adar, or on Rosh Chodesh Adar if Rosh Chodesh falls on Shabbat, as it does this year. So a third scroll. And Rosh Chodesh? A celebration of the light of the moon re-emerging, even if its glow has been in retreat for a while.

 

What a Shabbat for looking forward with a gentle optimism. I know, not ‘there’ yet, but, there is hope, there is a three-fold chord of Torah to sustain us. As it says in Proverbs, the three fold chord is not easily undone. We can do this.

 

In our streamed service this Shabbat, bit of Mishpatim, bit of Shekalim and Hallel with Rabbi Natasha and I and special guest Angela Gluck.

 

10:30am www.newlondon.org.uk/digital

(Bonus points – don’t cheat now 😊) when are the other occasions we read from three scrolls.

Electric Transmission of the Reading of the Megillah

 

 

There is an obligation to hear the Megillah of Ester on Purim. Actually, the obligation is to hear it twice, evening and morning.

 

So, can you fulfil the obligation over Zoom?

 

The issue has received significant Halachic attention, as has related questions; can you amplify Torah reading during large weekday services, or respond 'Amen' to a blessing said over the telephone and other related cases.

 

The significant Sugya is in Sukkah 51b which discusses a practice of the Great Synagogue of Alexandria; a Synagogue so large that people at the back couldn't hear what was being said at the front. A flag system was used and when people saw the flag, they would respond Amen. This is called an 'Orphaned Amen,' (see also Brachot 47a). Rashi and Tosafot in Brachot state that this is acceptable since the people knew which blessing was being said, even if they didn't hear the blessing, but the Shulchan Arukh (OH 124:8) states that this only works for general blessings but that the specifically aural Mitzvot (e.g. Shofar and Megillah) cannot be performed unless sound is heard.

 

Then came the invention of electricity and specifically the possibility of using microphones and amplifiers.

 

The two modern approaches are articulated most clearly by Reb Shlomo Zalman Auerbach (Minhat Shlomo 1:9), and Reb Moshe Feinstein (IM OH 2:108).

 

Reb Auerbach states that Halahcically significant hearing can only happen as a result of a mechanical process where the vibrations caused as a sound is produced are in a direct chain of causation with the vibrations that hit the eardrum. As such, electrical transmission of sound cannot be relied on. Auerbach's position - and he makes this explicit, acknowledging the pain this position may cause - means that hearing aids cannot be used during Megillah reading. If a person needs a hearing aid to hear, says Auerbach, they cannot fulfil these Mitzvot, and should not say the blessing.

 

In contradistinction, Reb Feinstein argues that sound is essentially a wave pattern, and since that wave pattern can be captured (by a microphone) and relayed (by a speaker), it is possible to say that a transmitted sound is the same sound as the produced sound. This would allow Mitzvot to be performed on the basis of transferred sound. He points out that the vibrating air molecules at the point of the production of a sound are never the same molecules as vibrate against our eardrum as we hear sound. Sound is always being transferred and relayed from one medium to another.

 

Rav Waldenberg (best known for his work in medical ethics) uses Feinstein's understanding in a position that supportive of a Rabbi who broadcasts the Megillah reading throughout a hospital so as to enable patients to hear it (Tzitz Eliezer 8:11). 

 

I find Feinstein's articulation of the nature of sound, at the very least, reliable in times of a pandemic. In fact, I think you can go further than this. And indeed we should.

 

I do not accept Rav Auerbach's analysis of the nature of hearing. Hearing is not a function of the eardrum, it is a function of the nervous system. All hearing arises as a result of electronic signals firing inside our nerves and brain. Feinstein has to be right that the central question is - are the signals that are being fired along our nerves the same signals that a Megillah reader would produce if we were indeed standing next to such a person? I find the Auerbach's position - which states that a person with a cochlear implant does not hear! - errant, as well as needlessly harsh. 

 

Of course, in an ideal world, a person should be in the same room as a Megillah reader, but I hold that this isn't the only way in which one considers Halachically reliable sound, this year, in the context of Covid.

 

At New London Synagogue we will have a Zoomed Megillah reading (also streamed to our www.facebook.com/newlondonsyn/live page. This system may be relied upon by anyone unable to personally attend a Synagogue in person.

 

See

 "Fulfilling Mitzvot Through Electronic Hearing Devices", Chaim Jachter and Ezra Frazer, Gray Matter volume 2 pp. 237–244. ISBN 1-933143-10-X

https://web.archive.org/web/20080511204358/http://www.yasharbooks.com/grayexcerpt2.pdf

 

Also, Rabbi Jeffrey Fox on the Auerbach position

https://roshyeshivatmaharat.org/category/distance-based-mitzvah-perfomance/?fbclid=IwAR2oFAnNrfNeBS_4_ZKzNppIWiaEsAeuBZy2aEj1B1qZZFP_1OIYY1jtmic