by chillul Who? · Friday, May 9th, 2008
Remember when Yom Ha-atzma’ut used to be easy?
Nowadays it seems like you’ve got three choices..
You can follow our co-blogger Chorus of Apes and go all Nakba on us. You can go all “neo-Zionist” instead and lose yourself in congratulatory paroxysms of pride and militaristic extremism. See here for example. Or finally, you can waffle and prevaricate between the other two alternatives, watching any tribal joy you once felt drain out through myriad cuts of national guilt and historical revision.
The last option seems most popular in progressive Jewish circles these days. My roommates objected to my proposal for a Yom Ha-Atzma’ut House Party by saying they wanted to avoid propaganda or the appearance of it. “Maybe we should have something about the nakba too.” “We don’t want to look right wing.” “How about we go to a Brit Tzedek talk instead.” Something about Independence Day made us uncomfortable.
Yom Ha-atzma’ut looks a little funny these days. Between the alliance of Electronic Intifada and Kahane Chai to forever tarnish the word “Zionism,” and the casual abuse of patriotism by fear-mongering Republicans in the US, the idea of “national pride” has become suspect. Every 60th Birthday congratulation needs a “but..”, and every praise of the Jewish State re-born in the Jewish Homeland comes with a “however..” We’re cynical and jaded, and don’t want to buy into anything that smacks of conservative forces or creeping 21st century totalitarianism.
So we want to kill the myth of the Third Comonwealth, scuff the shine on the Zionist dream, give us nothing-but-the-facts-ma’am and add another social justice cause to the bottom of the list.
But I’m thinking that Yom Ha-atzma’ut is not something to do half-assed. Righteous foundation myths and tribal pride aren’t just kids’ stories: they’re the moral stories that give us our ideals.
Remember (if you’re American) when you first learned what really happened when the Pilgrims hit Plymouth rock. When that cartoon fantasy of harmony and shared wealth dissolved into the broken treaties of the colonists, and the cold hard earth they dug into to rob Native graves. I think that a large part of that sting, that rage, (that righteous indignation, if you will) was the disappointment that the reality did not live up to the myth.
People we’d been taught to honor had let us down. The founding parents of institutions we’d be taught to respect and identify with had behaved in despicable ways. Which is sort of ironic, I guess. Or at least depressing.
But the real, glorious irony is that the myths never did let us down. These lies are the tales that taught us what to believe in. The myths are the prosecutor’s finger. When we hear about Israeli crimes and mistakes, whether during the War of Indepedence or today, it’s the myths that shout loudest “this was wrong. This must be remedied.” It’s the Declaration of Indepedence which was never fulfilled which kicks us in the gut and demands more effort on our part.
Our myths are our moral foundation, and I believe, something to celebrate whole-heartedly. So this is a (slightly belated) Yom Ha-Atzma’ut Same’ach from me to you, with no ifs, ands, or buts. Happy Independence Day. Make the dream a reality.
by Rooftopper Rav · Thursday, May 1st, 2008
Today is Holocaust Remembrance Day (or, if you’re in Israel, Holocaust and Heroism Remembrance Day). Israel takes the day quite seriously, at least officially. Restaurants and “places of entertainment” are supposed to be closed by law. Many Israeli TV channels are only broadcasting a still picture of a candle or an Israeli flag and a message that “broadcasts will resume after the end of Holocaust memorial day.” Other channels are showing Holocaust-related programming.
This morning at 10:00, the air raid/Shabbat siren sounded for two minutes, as usual. As usual, traffic came to a halt, people got out of their cars and stood at attention, passersby stood still, and everyone on the bus stood up. At my intersection, though, the taxis continued to zoom through, weaving around stopped cars, and the construction workers kept working, while the garbage collectors paused. On a friends’ corner the taxis stopped. I wonder whether the difference has to do with capitalism or the drivers’ degree of identification with the Jewish narrative or something else.
As another friend commented, it is also disturbing– though powerful– that the mode of remembering Holocaust victims here is via an air raid siren. Last night’s official government ceremony at Yad Vashem also had military undertones strewn throughout. The ceremony began with the entrance of a military honor guard with large guns. Throughout the ceremony they were told either to stand at attention with their guns or to stand at ease. The constant commands about shifting guns back and forth felt odd, distracting, and out of place.
Other parts of the ceremony were moving, particularly the stories told about six particular survivors who were present. The accompanying pictures were powerful, and I learned a number of things I hadn’t known before (including the fact that there were Nazi camps in Norway). I was especially struck by the fact that the oldest of the survivors was only 13 when the Holocaust began. This means that in very little time there will be no more survivors. I wonder what that will mean for the way in which Israel commemorates the day.
More »
by chillul Who? · Monday, April 28th, 2008
Yesterday afternoon, as Passover came to a close for many of us, I had the opportunity to be part of a “Ba’al Shem Tov Meal”, a Jewish ritual very different from what I’m used to. My friend ML is a 10th- or 12th-generation direct descendant of Reb Yisrael Ba’al Shem Tov, itinerant mystic and 17th-century founder of Hasidism, and as such, has inherited a unique practice which has been observed in her family meticulously and without fail each year: They cook exactly 31 matza balls, with one larger than the others, and sit around to hear the recitation (in Yiddish or in partial English translation) of the story of Reb YBST’s attempt to bring the Mashiach by travelling to Israel to meet The Ohr HaChaim, Rav Chaim IbnAttar, with whom he believed he shared King David’s reincarnated soul.
So about twenty of us friends of ML sat around her studio apartment, munching on Matza Lasagna, salads, and 31 matza balls sponsored by Moishe House Silver Spring, and listened to ML read her cousin’s recently completed translation of the entire story. It was good times, and there was a lot of joking about the historicity of the improbable tale, but what struck me more than the fun, the lively company, or the food, was the devotion and persistence with which this Passover custom had been passed down through the generations. Its power was such that ML, one of my most cynical friends, could not imagine letting the last day of Pesach pass without making a Ba’al Shem Tov Meal of her own, complete with all 31 matza balls, and an (irreverant but) attentive audience.
For the past 260 years her extended family members have gathered in their homes yearly to keep this story going, and despite its different variants (was the daughter named Udel or Adel? Was Reb Yisrael attacked by ghouls or pirates?) the tale is remarkably cohesive. It seems like Reb YBST was successful when he started this practice so long ago. If you could make sure your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandchildren were telling a story about your life more than two centuries from now, what story would you want them to tell? And how would you see to it that they did?
An extremely-truncated version of the story told at the Ba’al Shem Tov Meal can be found here.
by Kol Ra'ash Gadol · Sunday, April 27th, 2008
Day 6 Yesod of Chesed
JTA reports on a “new” “trend” (goodness, how many scare quotes do I need for this post?). Once again, the Jewish press gets on the bandwagon a little late., since Moishe house has been doing this for a while now. But what is new and interesting bout these new kvutzot is that they are affiliated with the Zionist youth movements, Habonim-Dror and Hashomer Hatzair (there appear to be three of these altogether currently, one with Habonim Dror and two with Hashomer Hatzair, two in NY and one in Toronto).
Setting up these collectives in North America represents an overhaul of the Zionist youth movement ideal. Whereas in the past these movements functioned more or less like farm teams, preparing young American Jews to settle in Israel, aliyah is no longer the goal.
“Judaism has always been a global reality,” says Jane Manwelyan, 25, of Kvutzat Orev. “Zionism is the collective potential of the Jewish people. Israel is just one of the physical representations of that, certainly not the only one.”
Rather than a physical destination, Israel “is central to our idea of Jewish peoplehood,” says Gil Browdy, 25, of the Habonim kvutza.
He notes that the Israeli kibbutz movement still isn’t sure what to make of the North American upstarts.
“It’s a tension,” Beran acknowledges.
But these young urban pioneers wanted to stay at home, to help revitalize Jewish life in the Diaspora, become involved in community-based activism and build good lives for themselves based on the values with which they grew up, even after they age out of their youth movements.
Since I’ve been scolded lately for drinking the hateorade, I’ll just say that I like it. I think that it’s a fine idea, I’m glad that Moishe house isn’t the only ones doing it, and I hope the idea spreads, not only to sinlge 20somethings, but I can’t see any reason why it wouldn’t be a good idea for a way to revitalize Jewish communities of all ages, mixed ages, and with or without kids. Oh wait, someone’s done that too (I know the article doesn’t say so, but although being Jewish is by no means required, there are quite a few Jews living there).
Week one, Day 7
Malchut of Chesed
Rabbi Jill Jacobs, over on Jspot, opines that the seder table seems to have gotten rather cluttered. She notes the dozens of emails calling her attention to the various political agendas that yell “me, me” at pesach and offer an assortment of candles, glasses, fruit, and so on to add to those items part of our regular ritual/
More »
by zt · Friday, April 25th, 2008
Here is a recounting of a seder in Mali complete with lettuce hanging from trees, torrential rains, mango-based charoset, and several haggadot shipped from the united states. Jess and Ari, our seder-leading beacons of light, can make just about anything accessible to anyone by identifying the core themes and creating gateways while staying true to the source. It’s really amazing.
by zt · Friday, April 25th, 2008
It is fairly well known that, in Israel, many recognize and observe seven days of pesach and a single seder whereas, outside of Israel, many recognize 8 days of pesach and two seders as proper observance.
Where did the extra day come from?
A piece over at my jewish learning does a good job explaining:
The Jewish calendar is lunar. Over 2,000 years ago, a council of rabbis from the Sanhedrin, the ancient legislative and judicial body, held special sessions in Jerusalem at the end of each lunar month to receive witnesses to the first sliver of the new moon. Because a lunar cycle is approximately 29 days long, it was no mystery when the new moon should appear, but the Sanhedrin still declared months and holidays only on the basis of these witnesses. …
Once the sighting was legitimated, the rabbis declared the next day Rosh Hodesh, the beginning of the new month. Originally, beacon fires would be set on mountaintops to spread the word to distant Jewish communities already living in far away places such as Egypt and Babylon. Watchers on faraway hills set their beacon fires as soon as they saw them, continuing the relay “until one could behold the whole of the Diaspora before him like a mass of fire” (Mishnah Rosh Hashanah 2:4)… Celebrating festivals for an extra day would ensure that, regardless of whatever confusion reigned about the exact start of the new month, at least one day of their celebration would be on the correct day.
Okay, that makes sense but we started to switch to a rule-based fixed-arithmetic lunisolar calendar system after the destruction of the second temple. That made the days designed to prevent error obsolete since everyone everywhere in the world used the same system and derived the days similarly. It no longer mattered how close one was to the Sanhedrin so why keep the extra days?
There are two major answers.
Our own BZ’s:
At the end of Beitzah 4b that issue is addressed. “Now that we know the fixed new month, what’s the reason for doing two days?” The answer there is hizaharu b’minhag avoteichem (be careful about your ancestors’ minhag), because in the future there might be a decree preventing us from keeping the calendar…And we can even agree on the value of minhag avoteinu (see Beitzah 4b), and you can follow the minhag of your ancestors who kept 2 days, while I’ll follow the minhag of my ancestors who have been Reform for at least five generations.
The other common answer is given by a Rabbi from Aish here:
So why was a second day Yom Tov added? In order to make a distinction, to add to the Jewish awareness that one is living in the Diaspora and does not claim permanent residence in the Holy Land.
BZ’s answer to Minhag Avoteinu is compelling as is the issue that there has ceased to be a consistent mihag in the diaspora. The Reform, Renewal, Reconstructionist, and Conservative movements have all offered decisions permitting the use of a 7-day pesach. Here is some CCAR (Reform) analysis. The Cons and Recon movements both provide flexibility for local congregations but the result is that a majority of American Jews, and nearly all Israeli Jews fall under a 7-day authority. Many have been in such a situation for generations.
Now to respond to the idea that we should have an extra seder to remember we aren’t in Israel…
Was anyone really confused? In case you were here are ten ways to conclude you are in the US rather than in Israel that have nothing to do with extra days of passover.
10:The falafel is overpriced and underspiced.
9: Municipal services are transparent and efficient.
8: Sunday is for football not school.
7: Teacher strikes are generally limited to a few days, max.
6: People talk slowly and get uncomfortable with interruptions (supreme court excepted).
5: Holocaust jokes are rare and usually generate discomfort.
4: People have difficulty making political and religious assumptions based on the type of kippah a person is wearing. Many can’t remember the word and use “beanie” or “skull cap” instead.
3: Though people talk about God non-stop in government there aren’t religious parties associated with single religious approached.
2: Nation’s founders where individual rather than collective farmers.
1: Look around. No occupations and settlements for miles in any direction? You probably aren’t in Israel.*
*If you are, time for new bifocals.
by Kol Ra'ash Gadol · Thursday, April 24th, 2008
Hod of Chesed
We’re all (by now) familiar with the story of the Orange on the seder plate. Not only the famous midrash (note I am not calling it fact) of Susannah Heschel and the man who claimed women should not be Jewish leaders, but also the misty origins of said story in the a woman telling lesbians that female homosexuality is a minor sin, like putting bread on the seder plate. Nevermind why the relentless deconstruction of this midrash is an example of why modern midrash sucks (I’ll talk about that some other time).
Instead, take a look at a post by Mel of Stirrup Queens and Sperm Count Jesters. Normally her blog is about infertility and its side issues from the perspective of an observant Jew. In this post, she writes about Thomas Beatie, the pregnant man and how putting an apple on the seder plate, for her, revived the original facts of the orange midrash…
representing reproductive rights for all people because truthfully, just as the changed story of Heschel’s speech has a man shouting about women belonging on the bimah as much as an orange belongs on the seder plate, empty symbolic gestures do not have a space at my table. It is apples and oranges; I am taking back the fruit. If I believe in reproductive rights for myself–and believe me, I want my reproductive rights well-covered–I need to believe in reproductive rights for all who act out of love or my shouting for myself becomes merely symbolic, self-serving, meaningless.
Mother Jones, in August 2006, ran a survey of fertility clinic directors. Only 59% believed everyone has a right to a child. 48% said they would likely turn away a gay couple seeking a surrogate. 20% would turn away a single woman. 17% would turn away a lesbian couple. If you want reproductive rights for yourself–and I’m fairly certain that no fertility clinic director would wish to be told that they cannot or must have a child–we should be concerned about others. Because I’m not just talking about those experiencing infertility who need to utilize assisted conception when I speak about reproductive rights–every single person on this earth should be in control of whether or not they reproduce or parent. Put an apple on the seder plate for that.
by Kol Ra'ash Gadol · Tuesday, April 22nd, 2008
Just a warning: I doubt I’ll actually succeed at this. Even just actually getting every night counted isn’t the easiest task, so actually having something to say, is going to be tough. But I’m going to give it a try, especially since there’s no requirement that I actually succeed at doing it every night… like tonight, I’m going to make up for starting late, with days 1, 2 & 3, since I couldn’t very well blog the first day on chag, and the second day was a little complicated with late sunset and all that. So, we’ll start tonight, and hopefully continue.
So: Omer night #1
Week Chesed, day chesed
Since the first day of Omer occurs on the day of a seder, I thought I write about Geraldine Brooks’ new book People of the Book. This is a wonderful book about the history - fictional in detail, although well researched in broad outlines, as she says in the afterword, ” While some of the facts are true to the haggadah’s known history, most of the plot and all of the characters are imaginary.”- of the famous Sarajevo Haggadah.
Towards todays’ omer topic chesed of chesed, the book gazes at the interrelationships - complicated, painful, loving and hating between Jews, Christians and Muslims, and also between parents and children, in all their difficulty and complexity, and acknowledging that sometimes there are no happy endings. Setting aside the fine writing, the well-drawn characters and the plot (who among us could not love a story -a mystery- about a book?) the doubling of the story makes for fine reading, and the ending is hopeful, mirroring the real history of the book, which of course includes the survival of a people, and the bravery of a Muslim librarian in saving the book of a people not his own- well, depending on how you look at it- and perhaps of a Catholic priest who saved it from destruction as well.
Day 2: Gevurah of Chesed
More »
by BZ · Sunday, April 13th, 2008
This year’s Boston Marathon, traditionally held on Patriots’ Day (the third Monday in April), will be on the second day of Pesach. The Associated Press reports on Rabbi Jonah Pesner and other Pesach-observant marathon runners, and how they are reconciling the Pesach diet and the marathon diet.
Passover begins just two days before the April 21 marathon, and the holiday’s strict dietary rules mean Jewish runners can’t eat bread and pasta, the normal staples in the days before the big race.
Besides matzoh, which is unleavened bread, Pesner plans to pound down foods such as potatoes during a rare “carb-load seder” the night before the race.
Pesner never considered breaking the dietary rules for the sake of the race, which he is running with his wife for an autism charity.
“For me, running the marathon is a very spiritual quest,” he said.
More »
by BZ · Tuesday, April 8th, 2008
(Crossposted to Mah Rabu.)
One (solar) year from today, Wednesday, April 8, 2009, is birkat ha-chamah, the blessing for the sun that is said only once every 28 years!
Why every 28 years?
The short version: It’s based on bad science, but it’s still cool to have something like this that only happens a few times per lifetime. We should brainstorm about how to take advantage of this opportunity!
The longer version:
More »
by BZ · Monday, March 24th, 2008
(Crossposted to Mah Rabu.)
Here in Jerusalem (and theoretically in other cities that were walled at the time of Joshua), we just completed Purim Meshulash, a 3-day Purim celebration (Friday-Saturday-Sunday) that occurs any time the date of Purim falls on Shabbat. Since 14 Adar never falls on Shabbat but 15 Adar sometimes does, this is only relevant in walled cities (and practically speaking, only in Jerusalem).
We just had another Purim Meshulash 3 years ago, but there won’t be another one for another 13 years! Because you see, we’re on the cusp of a major transition in the Hebrew calendar.
More »
by BZ · Wednesday, March 19th, 2008
Talmud Bavli, Megillah 7b:
àîø øáà îéçééá àéðéù ìáñåîé áôåøéà òã ãìà éãò áéï àøåø äîï ìáøåê îøãëé øáä åøáé æéøà òáãå ñòåãú ôåøéí áäãé äããé àéáñåí ÷í øáä ùçèéä ìøáé æéøà ìîçø áòé øçîé åàçééä ìùðä àîø ìéä ðéúé îø åðòáéã ñòåãú ôåøéí áäãé äããé àîø ìéä ìà áëì ùòúà åùòúà îúøçéù ðéñà
Rava said: A person is required to become intoxicated on Purim until he does not know the difference between “Cursed is Haman” and “Blessed is Mordechai”. [This is where most people stop reading.]
Rabbah and Rabbi Zeira had a Purim feast together. They became intoxicated. Rabbah got up and slaughtered Rabbi Zeira. The next day, he prayed for mercy and revived him. The following year, [Rabbah] said to him “Come, let’s have a Purim feast together.” Rabbi Zeira said to him, “A miracle doesn’t happen every time.”
Ran, ad loc.:
åîçéçééá ìáñåîé òã ãìà éãò îàé ÷àîø åëúá øáéðå àôøéí æ”ì îääåà òåáãà ã÷í øáä åùçèéä ìø’ æéøà ëãà’ áâî’ àéãçé ìéä îéîøà ãøáà åìà ùôéø ãîé ìîòáã äëé
“A person is required to become intoxicated until he does not know” - what does this mean? Rabbeinu Ephraim wrote: From the incident in which Rabbah got up and slaughtered Rabbi Zeira (as we have said in the Gemara), Rava’s statement is rejected, and it is not appropriate to act thus.
The Ba’al Hama’or quotes the same statement of Rabbeinu Ephraim, adding the line “åìéú äìëúà ëååúéä” = “the halacha is not like him [Rava]“. (Rabbeinu Ephraim may not be such a big name, but the Ran and Ba’al Hama’or don’t cite any other opinions on this issue, so they are agreeing at least implicitly.)
So even if you think that drinking on Purim is a “mitzvah” (a highly dubious claim), if you’re going to observe a Purim mitzvah to excess this year, my recommendation is matanot la’evyonim.
Happy Purim!
by BZ · Monday, March 17th, 2008
Haftarat Zachor (which is read twice this year here in Jerusalem) + Megillat Esther = The Lord of the Rings. One of them is totally plagiarized.
After winning the war with Sauron, Isildur is supposed to destroy the One Ring. He declines to do this, and as a result, his royal line ends and he is killed in battle, and the Ring continues to cause trouble. Many years later, when the Ring is finally destroyed, Isildur’s distant descendant Aragorn becomes king, and the monarchy is restored.
After winning the war with Amalek, Shaul ben Kish is supposed to kill Agag. He declines to do this, and as a result, his royal line ends and he is (eventually) killed in battle, and Agag’s descendant Haman continues to cause trouble. Many years later, when Haman is finally executed, Shaul’s father’s descendant Mordechai ben Ya’ir ben Shim’i ben Kish (one of the Men of the West, living in exile) becomes second to the king.
by Rooftopper Rav · Wednesday, February 27th, 2008
If you’re in NYC and want to learn more about the intersection of Judaism and justice from a stellar lineup of teachers (and a great book), run run run to sign up for this class! (And then email us if you want to guest blog any of the sessions). It looks amazing.
REVOLUTIONARY TEXT STUDY!
A Six-Part Series on Michael Walzer’s Exodus and Revolution
“Wherever people know the Bible, and experience oppression, the Exodus has sustained their spirits and (sometimes) inspired their resistance.”
- Michael Walzer, Exodus and Revolution
Do you have the same conversations at your Passover Seder, year after year? Are you looking for something that might spice things up this time around?
Do you crave substantive and meaningful Jewish learning in community?
If so, here’s the program you’ve been waiting for!
Exodus and Revolution, by Michael Walzer, traces the dynamics of revolution, redemption and liberation through the biblical story of the Israelites leaving Egypt for the Promised Land. It also examines later retellings of Exodus by diverse groups including classical rabbinic interpreters and political actors who used the story as the rallying point for their own revolutionary struggles – from African American resistance to slavery and Jim Crow, to the British and French Revolutions, to the guerilla liberators of various Latin American countries.
Over the course of 6 weeks together, we will unpack Exodus and Revolution through intensive learning in chevrutah (in pairs) and through facilitated discussions that will be guided by some of NYC’s leading scholars and activists. You will have a chance to learn with and from a roster of inspiring rabbis and social justice educators, including:
Aaron Dorfman
Director of Education, American Jewish World Service
Rabbi Elie Kaunfer
Co-Founder and Executive Director, Mechon Hadar
Rabbi David Rosenn
Founder and Executive Director, AVODAH: The Jewish Service Corps
Dara Silverman
Executive Director, Jews for Racial and Economic Justice
Rabbi Melissa Weintraub
Co-Founder and North American Director, Encounter
Shmuly Yanklowitz
Co-Founder, Uri L’Tzedek
Rabbi Brent Spodek, the Marshall T. Meyer Fellow at Congregation B’nai Jeshurun, will open and close the series by teaching the introduction and conclusion. Teams of rabbis and educators (including those listed above) will teach the four chapters in between.
Dates: Weekly, starting on Wednesday March 12th and ending on Wednesday, April 16th (March 12th, 19th, and 26th and April 2nd, 9th, and 16th).
**The course will end just in time for you to bring your newfound insights to your Passover Seder!
Time: 7pm-9pm
Location: TBA
RSVP: Audrey Sasson at 212.792.2871 or asasson {at} ajws(.)org or asasson {at} avodah(.)net.
This program is brought to you by AJWS, AVODAH, Congregation B’nai Jeshurun, Encounter, Uri L’Tzedek, Mechon Hadar, and JFREJ.
by BZ · Sunday, February 24th, 2008
In this happiest month of Adar, we look back in history at all the joyous events that have taken place in Adars past. Can you believe that it has been 18 years (and 24 Adars) since Digital Underground released their album Sex Packets, on 29 Adar 5750?
On Thursday night at a “Def Adar Jam” in southern Jerusalem, I performed a folk version of “The Humpty Dance” on acoustic guitar in honor of this milestone. Yes, there are other versions floating around the Internet, but if I may say so, my rendition is better. (And no, my version isn’t on YouTube and never will be. By day, I teach high school, and I don’t need my students googling me and hearing me sing about how I’m still getting in the girls’ pants.)
Here’s the thing though. It’s not really my version. I first heard it at Hillel Leaders Assembly in 1999.
In Megillat Esther, an Adar classic, after Mordechai uncovers the plot to assassinate the king, Esther passes this information on to Achashverosh in Mordechai’s name (Esther 2:22). The rabbis of the Talmud derive from this that anyone who says a thing in the name of the one who said it brings redemption to the world (Megillah 15a). Wait, no. Rabbi Eliezer taught it in the name of Rabbi Hanina. That’s better.
So I’d like to give proper credit to the person from whom I learned this acoustic folk version of the Humpty Dance, and thereby bring redemption to the world. There’s only one problem. I never got his name. I’ve been chasing Humpty ever since.
Then I realized that there’s really no good reason that this mystery hasn’t been solved yet. The Jewish world just isn’t that big, especially the subset of it who were Hillel student leaders in 1999 and play guitar. This person shouldn’t be more than a couple degrees of separation away from me. But he (yes, I’m pretty sure about the gender) has remained at large for 8.5 years. So I’m bringing in the big guns and asking the blogosphere. If you played the acoustic Humpty Dance at Hillel Leaders Assembly in 1999, please identify yourself so that the world can be redeemed. And if it wasn’t you, but you have a hunch of who it might be, please forward this post to them, so that together we may usher in an era of peace and humptiness forever.
Thanks in advance!
by Kung Fu Jew · Saturday, January 5th, 2008
by BZ · Wednesday, December 19th, 2007
II Kings 25:1-2 and Jeremiah 52:4-5:
In the ninth year of his reign, on the tenth day of the tenth month, Nebuchadnezzar moved against Jerusalem with his whole army. He besieged it, and they built towers against it all around. The city continued in a state of siege until the eleventh year of King Zedekiah.
As I left my apartment this morning, I noticed that the weather in Jerusalem on 10 Tevet is rainy and very cold. (Not as cold as, say, the northern United States outdoors, but much colder indoors.) And I couldn’t help but wonder: What was Nebuchadnezzar thinking? Why pick this time of year to send his army to Jerusalem, where they’d have to build towers in the cold and rain? Everyone knows that military campaigns start in the spring. The besieged people inside were also presumably doing ok at that point, since they would have already harvested whatever they’d need for the winter. Indeed, according to Jeremiah 52:6, they didn’t run out of food until the summer (the fourth month is Tammuz). So what gives? Clearly, ìöòøðå, Nebuchadnezzar was successful in the end, but was this the most effective way of accomplishing his objective? Or is this the biblical narrative’s subtle way of indicating that the destruction of Jerusalem was divine punishment and not a mere human conquest, by showing that the destruction went ahead despite questionable tactics (cf. Elijah pouring water on the altar before it gets consumed by fire)? Any thoughts?
May this be the last year that the fast of Tevet is a day of mourning. (Since this is a sad day, I’m not going to amuse myself and about three of you by pointing out that, redemption or no redemption, 10 Tevet will in fact not occur in 2008.)
by Kol Ra'ash Gadol · Wednesday, December 12th, 2007
From today’s New York Post:
When Walter Adler of Brooklyn boarded a subway at Canal Street towards home with his girlfriend, Maria Parsheva, and two friends someone in another group wished them “Merry Christmas.” They responded, “Happy Hanukkah.” Not exactly fighting words to most people, but according to Adler, one of the group immediately hiked up his sleeve to reveal a tattoo of Christ and said, “Happy Hanukkah, that’s when the Jews killed Jesus.” This guy and his buds -about 14 men and women- then allegedly began calling Adler and friends, “dirty Jews” and “Jew bitches, ” and six of them were later arrested for assault.
According to the Post, “They just came at us so fast. The first thing that came into my mind was, ‘Yeah, this is going to be violent,’ said Parsheva, 20.”
Hassan Askari, 20, a Muslim from Bangladesh, jumped in to defend Adler.
“Walter Adler was touched that Hassan Askari jumped to his aid while a group of thugs allegedly pummeled and taunted him and his three friends. So Adler has invited his new friend over to celebrate the Festival of Lights.
The two new pals - Adler, 23, with a broken nose and a fat lip, and Askari, 20, with two black eyes - broke bread together and laughed off the bruises the night after the fisticuffs.
“A random Muslim guy jumped in and helped a Jewish guy on Hanukkah - that’s a miracle,” said Adler, an honors student at Hunter College.
“He’s basically a hero. Hassan jumped in to help us.”
But Askari, who is studying to be an accountant, shrugged off the praise.
“I just did what I had to do,” he recalled. “My parents raised me that way”
All I want to add is that I wouldn’t have called it a miracle, but it’s nice to hear some publicity about a Muslim and a Jew that can be wrapped up “all’s well that ends well,” and maybe a new friendship in the making.
In the name of the most Merciful, may we all come to break bread together in friendship.
Oh, yeah, and can some priest or minister step forward to at least teach these “Christians” that “nativity” means “birth?”
