From the Rabbi's Bunker, April 30-May1: The Cruelest Month (ever); When Do We Open Up the Economy? Kosher Pork; The People Who Dwells Apart...Together; The Darkness of Egypt

From the Rabbi's Bunker

Shabbat-O-Gram

    Koby Hayon leading our Zoom celebration for Israel's Independence Day.

 

K students showing their colors!

Our 7th graders were asked for their favorite Israeli innovation:

Sydney: Waze

Camryn: Gaga

Sophie: gas masks and helicopters

Brandon: USB flash drive

What's yours?

_______________

April is the cruellest month, breeding 

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

Memory and desire, stirring

Dull roots with spring rain.

Shabbat Shalom

When TS Eliot called April "the cruellest month," he had no idea what this April would be like.  Now May begins, and with it, the hope that brighter days may lie ahead. Another poet, Lucille Clifton, in her poem "Blessing the Boats," expressed the wish that we all share as the cruelest month gives way to May:

may the tide

that is entering even now

the lip of our understanding

carry you out

beyond the face of fear

Join us at 6 on Friday as out K,1 and 2 students will be sure to brighten our day as they, along with Cantor Katie Kaplan, will co-lead the service with me.  This will be our main Kabbalat Shabbat service. Rabbi G will lead the Torah study at 11 on Shabbat morning.

We've gotten used to this new normal as we see the curve beginning to flatten. With all the sadness we're experiencing, with our adaptation to a life of masks and fear and endless grieving, this April has indeed been the cruelest of months.

Those legendary April showers have been transformed, in 2020, into windswept deluges; but if we simply add some kindness, those May flowers can - and will - still grow.

When Can the Economy Reopen?

This is the question of the hour, and Jewish sources have much to teach us.

You can read the full statement put out by the Rabbinical Assembly this week.  Below are some highlights:

 

Kosher Pork

Much of the conversation this week has revolved around infection being widespread in meat production factories. Several years ago, Conservative rabbis created the Magen Tzedek seal.  It imposed a higher level of Kashrut supervision that evaluated not only regarding standards of ritual slaughter and meat preparation (with involves painless slaughter, draining the blood, salting, etc.), but also three other areas of ethical importance: humane treatment of animals, concern for the welfare of the workers and environmental impact.  The Magen Tzedek project has waned, but there is no question that the knowing and forced exposure of workers to unsafe conditions flies against all the principles behind Kashrut as we know it.  Kosher laws might seem irrelevant to consumers of pork and non-kosher meat products produced by companies like Tyson, but that doesn't mean that we shouldn't speak up about it.

In fact, we should be outraged whenever workers anywhere are forced to expose themselves and their families - and by extension, the rest of us - to unsafe working conditions.   And on top of it, if the goal of the current executive order is to prevent workers from being able to sue companies that force them to take such risk, that is shameful.

So look at these study materials.

And as you do, remember that we create a holy society by caring for the most vulnerable among us.  The disease, like some kind of microbial Amalek, had made a beeline right for them: the elderly, particularly in nursing homes, workers (and the unemployed), those with underlying medical conditions, minorities, immigrants (who are being targeted more by the government than the disease itself) and the incarcerated.  As Martin Luther King wrote:

  

Photo: Reuters

A People Who Dwells Apart...Together

It's not often that I'll recommend that people open up an ultra-Orthodox newspaper, but these are not normal times, so please click here and flip through the pages of this week's Flatbush Jewish Journal. You will find there a small hint of the grief that that community has been enduring because of Covid-19.  You'll see it in the ads, in the articles, and most of all, in the many pages of tributes.  Jews have long believed that no one dies alone - or marries alone, or, in fact does just about anything alone.  So the mess regarding recent funerals and weddings among Haredi Jews, from Brooklyn to Bnai Brak, has been a source of both concern and consternation.

Jews just can't seem to stay away from other Jews.  Just ask Mayor de Blasio, who chewed out the Jewish community for the inordinately large gathering at a recent funeral in Brooklyn.  Now while the mayor should not get a pass for painting the Jewish community with such a broad brush, neither should other Jews ignore what happened. We are our brother's keeper, and this week's portion implores us not to stand idly by.  So we should be calling out all those who endanger us by not keeping social distance rules.  I know that I feel horribly when I have to inform families that no more than ten can attend a funeral, and there have been so many funerals. Those rules of social distancing need to apply to everyone.

Israelis were in total lockdown yesterday, unable to celebrate Independence Day in the normal ways. Isolation does not come naturally for the "people that dwells apart." That's why the government couldn't relax the lockdown even a little yesterday.  They knew that, given an inch, Israelis would soon be all over the beaches and parks and bopping total strangers on the street with those squeaky hammers and spraying that silly snow, as they do every other Yom Ha'atzmaut.  And the day before, on Memorial Day, they all would have flocked to the cemeteries.  The cemeteries were closed on Memorial Day.

So this week, Israel helped to teach us how to do both grief and celebration safely, on a national level.  It may have been more subdued than normal, but it did not lack for togetherness, even as everyone was apart.

See the three video examples below:

1) The annual military awards ceremony at the president's house was handled quite differently.  The musical numbers were wonderfully inclusive, bringing in a wide spectrum of voices was in the musical montages about 24 and 51 minutes in.  

2) And then below that, see the opening ceremony from Mount Herzl, which also demonstrated that it is possible to celebrate separately and to remain united in the Corona Era. 

3) And the final video of the three is the annual International Bible Quiz, which this year was held online, but was still as thrilling and as unifying as ever.  Playing along in my armchair, I even got a few of the answers right this year (it is NOT easy).

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And while we are at it, see this fascinating award-winning video about Israel, made available for general viewing this week

Sustainable Nation - Full Length Documentary [OFFICIAL]

And click here to stream a classic Israeli film for free between now and tomorrow at midnight

or go to https://israelfilmcenterstream.org/ and use the promo code ISRAEL2020

The Darkness of Egypt

I always love how our ancient sources live and breathe in Israeli culture.  You don't have to go to rabbinical school to know that this week's portion contains the central verse, "Love your neighbor as yourself."  And there it was, on the screen, introducing the Mount Herzl ceremony, whose theme emphasized the unity and mutual responsibility of all Israelis.

 

It reminded me of an episode of Fauda Season 3 that I was watching this past week, where Israelis were about to cut the power to Gaza.  The term for "blackout" used was "Hoshech Mitzrayim," evoking the biblical plague of darkness inflicted upon Egypt. The text of Exodus 10 and accompanying commentary talk of this being darker than the ordinary night, a supernaturally thick and tangible darkness.

The subtitles just said "total blackout" or some such, failing to convey the 3,500 year cultural flavor of the Hebrew.  The Bible truly comes alive in the Jewish state, where even Doron from Fauda is a midrash scholar, without even knowing it.

More on this week's Torah portions, Ahare-Mot and Kedoshim 

Achare Mot - Kedoshim in Humash Etz Chayyim

Love Your Neighbor: How It Became the Golden Rule

The Scapegoat Ritual and Its Ancient Near Eastern Parallels

Bestiality in Biblical and Hittite Law (it's been a long quarantine...)

The Exodus, the Alien, and the Neighbor

If You are Really Missing Sports and You Love the Omer...check out

OMERTIME 

Over the seven weeks between Passover and Shavuot, count the Omer with us as we meditate on how the (divine qualities) sefirot show up in the games we love most. Whether you're a fan of basketball, baseball, or hockey , we hope that our playful reflections on the spiritual side of sports bring meaning and joy to your practice of counting the Omer this year.

And finally, we hear from last week's cancelled guest:

Lisa Grove-Raider  passes along the youtube link to the video of her Great-Uncle Kurt Kleinman as he receiving the Medal of Valor from the Simon Wiesenthal Center.  He had planned to show this video as part of his presentation at TBE on April 19th. His story has been told in the bestselling book, The Boy Who Followed His Father into Auschwitz.

Shabbat Shalom and Happy May!

Rabbi Joshua Hammerman

Judaism's Top 40: Elul 23 and #19 in the countdown: Havdalah - Separation / Kedusha - Holiness

TODAY, ELUL 23 and #19 in the countdown

Havdalah - Separation   / Kedusha - Holiness

So much of Judaism is based on the notion of forming boundaries or distinctions, and in particular those that separate the holy (Kadosh, Kedusha) from profane.  The havdalah prayer itself (also see this how to guide), which marks the dividing line between the holiness of the Sabbath and the secularity of the new week, helps us to see these distinctions in terms of time (six days of Creation and the Sabbath), nature (light and darkness) and identity (Israel and other nations).  Such distinctions are also drawn in terms of marital relationships and personal ethics - especially in the "Holiness Code" in Leviticus. 

The notion of separation and drawing boundaries can cause discomfort when determining who gets to be on the "good" side.  It's not such a big deal when talking about days (Shabbat) but is so when talking about people.  Here is an interesting and inclusive Havdalah ceremony that highlights that issue and deals nicely with it.

There are lots of reasons to love the multi-sensual havdalah ceremony. Here are some nice ones, including:  But most of all I love havdalah because even without all of the extra teachings and interpretations we can lay on top of it, it works. It makes a difference. Spending five minutes in a darkened room holding that braided candle aloft, making these blessings, breathing in the sweet spices, and then plunging the candle into the wine -- it does something. You can feel the change in the energy of the room. Something has ended and something else has begun.

See also this summary of the concepts of holiness and separation in Judaism.

David Ortiz's (Bleeping) Expletive: A Lesson from Leviticus

Click here for parsha packet "Is Swearing Kosher?

Last weekend, with Bostonians celebrating the end of their excruciating, week-long siege, Red Sox slugger David Ortiz wrapped things up in one brief exclamation.  "This is our (bleeping) city!" he cried, and the crowd went wild, while in bars across America, millions of people turned to total strangers and asked, "Did he just SAY that?"

Well, I taped the event and, although his accent is not always easy to decipher, yes, he did.

ESPN was on tape delay, so they managed to catch it and bleep it out.  But NESN and the MLB Network were not so fortunate.  Neither were the radio broadcasts and all the five year old children at Fenway that day; but that probably doesn't matter, because their parents weren't exactly covering their kids' ears.  Everyone was just happy to be happy and Ortiz' expletive apparently was the most emphatic way to express that.

I admit.  I was too busy laughing through my tears to worry about the ballplayer's proclamation, moved as I was by the pregame tribute and the indefatigable nature of my hometown, and relieved that the (bleeping) bombers had been caught.

But now, a week later, it's time to question whether we have (bleeping) gone too far, to the point where every (bleeping) conversation is beginning to sound like a Nixon tape.

Why do we (bleeping) need to swear so (bleeping) much?  Have we lost the ability to converse, to articulate emphasis without resorting to insulting people's sexual behavior, especially in regard to their mothers?

Simon Critchley wrote recently in the New York Times, "We know swear words are literally meaningless.... Yet they carry a force that compels us. This is why many of us like to swear a lot. It feels really good to swear and really bad to be sworn at. Swearing always aims at something intimate, something usually hidden, which is why the words are often so explicitly and violently sexual." 

Thousands of years ago, the book of Leviticus said (in this week's Torah portion) essentially the same thing.  In chapter 24, two Israelites are having a fight.  One had an Egyptian father, which may have been the cause of some resentment or friction between the two.  Who knows?  But the end result was that one of them cursed, meaning that he blasphemed God's name, and the punishment was determined to be stoning. 

On the face of it, the whole thing seems absurd, like the scene right out of Monty Python.  Come to think of it, this WAS a scene from a Monty Python flick.  But the deeper message of this passage, and of the entire book of Leviticus, is that words matter.  Jewish tradition compares the one who gossips to a murderer.  The very next verse, in fact, deals with the laws of murder, making this comparison most explicit, not just for the idle gossiper, but specifically for the one who curses God.

For what does it mean to curse God's name? If, as we read in Genesis, every human being is created in God's image, that divine part of us that is the essence of our humanity.  To insult God is to debase our own innate godliness, our human capacity for goodness and kindness. 

Sometimes curses can be a creative way of dealing with powerlessness.  We see that inthe colorful Yiddish curses that have sprung up over the centuries.  And sometimes Jews have had good reason to shake their fist at the heavens.  When Job's wife implores him, "Curse God and die," Job has every reason to do just that - but he refuses to, recognizing that God's blessings and curses are intertwined.  In fact, the very word translated as "curse" in Job 2:9 is "barekh", which also means to bless.  Job refuses to render God one dimensional, the source only of evil and not of life's blessings too.

That's what cursing does. It turns God into a stereotype. In rendering God one dimensional, it renders all language one dimensional.  Once "bleeping" becomes your only way of express emphasis and passion, you are unable to communicate creatively, to probe the complexity of deeper feelings.  It all comes back to the bleeping expletive.

Swearing takes the bedroom and turns it into the bathroom.  Rather than elevating the mundane experiences of everyday life, as the holiness code of Leviticus implores us to do - in what we eat, who we love, how we treat our neighbors and how we talk - swearing does just the opposite.  It takes all that is sacred and holy and tosses it onto Job's ash heap: our food, our physical expressions of love, our body parts, our holy anger - even God's divine self.  All swearing is ultimately a form of blasphemy. it is a choice not of life but of decay and stagnation.  To swear is to succumb to impulse rather than rising above it.

  

I confess.  I swear - but only rarely.  So when I swear, you KNOW I'm mad.  You can just ask my kids.  Sometimes we all lose control.  But when I encounter supposedly pious Jews with foul mouths, it makes me wonder how far their piety really extends.  If they are so abusive with language, so unable to control themselves from inflicting verbal blows on God, are they really able to control their gossip, their tempers, and even their physical abuse of others?  Can someone who has garbage constantly coming out of his mouth really be vigilant about the kashrut of the things that go into it?  Are people that needy of appearing cool?  Is (bleeping) swearing the only password into society these days?

The universe, the commandments, everything that we hold sacred came into the world through divine speech.  And now we are losing the sanctity of speech. 

I don't blame David Ortiz for this.  He didn't cause the problem. (In fact, to be blunt, it was Yankee fans who started it, with all those indignant chants about Boston, which I bet they regret now!)  Even the FCC gave Ortiz a pass on that one.  His passionate outburst did indeed reflect how Bostonians felt after finally being released from the grip of the psychological - and real - pressure cooker.  But it is sad that there wasn't another way to say "This is OUR CITY!"

Studies show that our society hasn't gotten worse, at least since the Swearin' '70s, just that foul language has become less regulated since the days of George Carlin's pre-HBO "Seven Words you Can't Say on Television."   Nothing wrong with more freedom. What's wrong is, once the thrill of breaking one taboo is gone, it's all too easy to go on to the next one.

As our society rightly focuses its attention on our addiction to violence and in particular to guns, and on the danger of super-empowered angry young men armed with violent language and Ak-47s, maybe we should spend a moment reflecting on that instant when that anger first gets out of control.  Long before the pressure cookers and semi automatic guns, long before the bloody video games, there is filthy, unchecked language. Long before bullets, it is the words that wound. Creation began with words and social disintegration does too.

In the beginning, there was the Word.  And it didn't begin with an F.