On Rabbi Adlerstein's excellent latest post at Cross-Currents, the question arose in the comment section regarding the relationship between לשון הקודש and Modern Hebrew. Here is my response there:
The distinction is technical, and really hits at a question of modern theory of linguistics. One hundred years ago and beyond, changes in grammar were seen as corruptions with grammars being viewed as proscriptive (see Gesenius' Hebrew Grammar as an example of this school of thought). Later theory maintains that any spoken language changes, and these are shifts, not corruptions. Grammars are essentially descriptive in that they describe how a language is used, and do not define how a society may use language. One generation’s mistake is another generation’s rule (See the history of the word “ask” in English, for example.)
Modern Hebrew (MH) is unique in that it is a revived language. It started as a proscriptive grammar which takes its rules virtually completely from descriptive examinations (grammars) of Biblical Hebrew (I assume that is what you mean when you say L’shon Hakodesh; parenthetically, “Loshon Kodesh” or Loshon Hakodesh is grammatically incorrect — לְשון is in construct form, vowelized with a shva, not a kamats). Although there are stylistic differences (using for example simple perfect as opposed to the vav-consecutive imperfect), these are not changes or differences, but choices of use — generally using a subset of what is possible in Biblical Hebrew (BH) to simplify MH. MH contains the same grammatical rules and thus the same possibilities as BH. A student of modern Hebrew will be able to fluently read the Bible, for example, and understand it at least on a basic, literal level (of course there are places where this will not be sufficient to acquire the meaning of the text).
That said, certainly there are new words and idiomatic phrases, foreign words, and new concepts present in MH. However, these are not changes, but additions. Furthermore, once MH came to be used as a language by Israeli society, its very grammar will shift as any living language’s does.
Compare this question to the situation in English. Would one say that Shakespeare was not writing “English”? Would one say that his English is ancient English as opposed to Modern? (If you did, Chaucer would require a new category, would he not?) Clearly usages and grammars change over time, and any grammar, even one resurrected and therefore initially proscriptive as Modern Hebrew’s, will immediately begin to shift and therefore become of necessity descriptive; however, this does not mean that learning one will not give you the ability to read and understand the other. One learns English to read Shakespeare, with an eye out for shifts in meaning and grammar.
I find that usually those who distinguish between לשון הקודש and Hebrew do so with an agenda. (I believe this agenda has to do with an unwillingness to concede anything of inherent value or holiness in the enterprise of Zionism and the modern State of Israel.) It is implied that one is holy and one is not. By this measure, distinctions of linguistic holiness would have to be made between the Torah, Nevi'im and Ketuvim, since the style and grammar does shift between them and even within them, as well (where does the word של appear in the Bible, for example? In Shir Hashirim, which Rabbi Akiva called קדש קדשים, incidentally. Why not earlier?). Furthermore, the implication is that Mishnaic Hebrew, Rabbinic Hebrew, and later Responsa are all holy (לשון הקדש), but they are even more different from Biblical Hebrew than Modern Hebrew (think of all the Aramaic)! Modern Hebrew was an attempt to revitalize the Hebrew of the Bible.
In fact, the very term לְשון הקודש does not imply a holy language at all! That would be הַלָּשׁוֹן הַקָּדוֹש — HaLashon HaKadosh. L’shon Hakodesh means quite literally "the language of holy things (texts)". Hebrew’s holiness is a function of what it was used to record (the word of God), the people who used it, and their self-perceived task in this world. (I am aware that this linguistic explanation accords generally with the view of the Ramban. In contrast, the Rambam views BH as לשון הקודש because it contains no indecent words of phrases. I do not entertain his view in this post because according to him, it is precisely the language used in T'nach which is לשון הקודש. If the vernacular of the times of Moshe were to contain "dirty" language, it would not be לשון הקודש to the Rambam. Hence, to him, it is a subset of ancient Hebrew which deserves the title לשון הקודש. It is less a linguistic explanation of the whole language that he presents, and more a description of the diction used, applying to the subset of the language (which, as a living language, almost certainly contained indecencies) found in the T'nach. Essentially, Rambam applies to part of ancient Hebrew, the part found in the Bible, and describes it as לשון הקודש.
Even so, the view of the Rambam is rational, in line with conventional linguistic theory. In Moreh 1:67, he points out that Hebrew, like all languages, is concention -"שכללי כל לשון מבוססים על רוב". See Kol Han'vuah (pp 28-32) by R' David Cohen for a more mystical view of the Hebrew language.)
Monday, May 23, 2011
Modern Hebrew and L'shon Hakodesh
Sunday, May 08, 2011
Extra-Judicial Killings
2. מפי איש ולא מפי אשה,
3. ואפילו קרוב...
Monday, May 02, 2011
Shadal On Shaatnez
Shmuel David Luzzatto, who lived through the first sixty-five years of the nineteenth century, was a leader of the Italian Jewish community. He fought against what he saw as extremists on either side of him, was willing to accept truth no matter its source, and was confident that even if under-appreciated in his lifetime, the century would come in which his work would find its full glory.
I have just read a letter from him to his father in law, in which he outlines a general overview of the Jewish purpose. In it, he stresses חמלה, which I think he would have translated as intimate sympathy with the position of the other. It transcends straightforward justice or social fairness, and is לפנים משורת הדין; precisely this facet of it is an important foundation of the Jewish ethic. Shadal writes that this emotion is one which is fostered by Judaism as the best way to make Man moral, and to build a healthy, stable society. (Shadal goes through a number of rational arguments for ethics from Greek philosophy, bemoaning the fact that none of them engendered a proper sympathy and caring for fellow humans.) He discusses several places in the Torah where חמלה may seem to be disregarded, and shows that it is not. Usually, this חמלה is applicable to all humanity; Jews believe all humans to be sons of the same Father, and that they should be treated so. Shadal explains the few places where halacha treats Jews and gentiles differently as places where special חמלה is an expression of particularly close national-brotherly bonds. (For example, lending with interest is not immoral, it is perfectly ethical -- indeed, all nations do so. This normative ethic is also acceptable for Jews doing business with gentiles. However, in order to produce strong intra-national links and feelings of fraternity within the Jewish nation, God demands that we abstain from this practice with relation to other Jews.) Essentially, the Torah raises to the status of commandment this חמלה-compassion, sympathy and fraternal love.
Additionally, belief in השגחה, providence, occupies another cornerstone of the Jewish faith, bolstering the possibly weak committment that חמלה creates towards morality and Godliness. Man needs to know that God cares, and indeed, rewards and punishes him for his actions.
The letter goes on to discuss various individual commandments. I found his explanation for שעטנז and כלאי אילן to be interesting. Shadal provides as part of their purpose to deny the idolatrous practices surrounding the Jews. In idolatrous cultures, he writes, it was common to combine naturally separate elements in order to bind together the providential assistance of otherwise competing forces (gods) in benificent kindness towards the idolator. To further remove Jews from any association with idolatrous practices, much less idolatry, these (to the modern mind, seemingly harmless) practices were forbidden, and contributed to the three basic elements of Jewish practice, the betterment of individual morality, strength of religious passion, and the national general good.
Monday, April 18, 2011
This is the Bread of Shame
It strikes me as emblematic of a waning propensity towards introspection and self-examination in our generation that the Passover seder can be celebrated with such blasé contentment by diaspora Jewry. Blithely are so many comfortable Jews able to glide over the words of our daily prayers, asking God to "assemble us from the four corners of the earth", and the Hagaddah's many appeals for redemption and return to the land of our forefathers fare no better. How can it be that only a generation or two after the Holocaust, Jews have forgotten the bitterness of exile, and relish their self-inflicted imprisonment?
This was never supposed to be. The sting of physical and spiritual exile were supposed to hurt us so badly, that we would do all within our power, and perhaps more, to return to the condition of old, where we sat at our Father's table. We should feel shame, pain, disharmony, angst, in our dispersion. In fact, Rabbi Kook sees this as the reason the Hagaddah starts out with the הא לחמא עניא. The seder is supposed to be a time of glory, pride and happiness. However, during the exile, we read in our seder of customs gone by, and splendor lost. How can a Jew rejoice when he reads of the קרבן פסח, the offerings of Passover, the Temple service, Divine immanence and national exaltation, and yet knows the depths of despair and lowly shame his nation wallows in during the present exile?
For this reason, says Rabbi Kook, the Hagaddah starts with the bread of affliction, literal and metaphoric. Know, says the Hagaddah, that when the Jews suffered in the sweltering heat of oppression and slavery, when their bread was depressed and their hope fleeting, even from that point, God saved them. The הא לחמא עניא is an empathetic passage reminding us in the exile that God once saved us, and he will again. When we say, כל דכפין ייתי וייכול, "all who are hungry, come and eat!", we serve God out of the depths of despair. The responding parallel phrase, כל דצריך ייתי ויפסח, "all who are in need, come and share in the passover offering," is the reward that awaits those who valiantly celebrate in the ignominy of exile; they will merit to take part in the paschal offering in Jerusalem. In this way, the Hagaddah attempts to break the depression and sadness of the dispersed Jews, even if only for one night.
In our present day, it would seem that the opposite lesson is needed. Find shame in the exile, find debasement in your lives as a nation dispersed by God's fury! Come to the point where you need הא לחמא עניא to lift your spirits! A renewed awakening to the ignominy of exile is what is needed now. We stand free of 2000 year old shackles, and God invites us home. Will we take the first step?
May the story of our first deliverance spur us to take the steps to the final salvation, and that of the entire world.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Not In Heaven
In Rabbi Eliezer Berkovits' extremely interesting work on the essence of Halacha, I found an important paragraph (Not In Heaven, 140) on the relationship between the modern State of Israel and its religious population:
This twofold alienation, from life and from halacha's concern with it, can be best illustrated by the one-sided educational ideal of the yeshivot in Israel. In general, they frown on secular studies. But a state needs an army, an economic system, health and welfare services, scientific research, technology, etc. The question, therefore, is: Does the Torah desire a Jewish people living in its own land or not? If the answer is affirmative, then the Torah must also desire soldiers, physicians, scientists, architects, engineers, policemen, social workers, etc. To say that these professionals should all come from the secular segment of the population would be a confession that the Torah cannot cope with life. On the other hand, to divide the people into a religious elite, exclusively dedicated to Torah study, and a professional majority, rather ignorant of Torah, incarcerates students of the Torah in another form of a Diaspora Museum, that of the present-day yeshivot.I would highly recommend the whole book, and particularly the paragraph that comes before the above quote. (Read it to see why I am being so vague.)
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Journalistic Integrity
Today, when reporting on the bombing at a Jersualem bus stop, Reuters reported that:
Police said it was a "terrorist attack" -- Israel's term for a Palestinian strike.An Israeli media source asked for clarification as to why Reuters implied that there was any doubt that this was a terror attack, and received a response from Reueters:
It is not up to Reuters to say who carried out an attack. We always need to quote the authorities, such as the police. On Wednesday, Israeli police used the Hebrew word "peegooa", without specifically mentioning the Palestinians - but in the local context it is clear that this is who they were referring to. We spelt that out to an international audience to clarify precisely who was being blamed.This biased attitude is similar to that of CNN, who reported the butchery in Itamar (when Arabs entered a home and brutally stabbed to death a sleeping husband, wife and small children and a baby) as "Israeli Family of 5 Killed in 'Terror Attack'". This is a gross, sick understatement, in the guise of objective journalistic impartiality.
We were certainly not trying to give a judgment value. We were simply seeking to present the facts, with all the correct attribution.
We have used the same approach for years. This is not a policy we apply only to the Middle East conflict. It is a policy which we use across the globe in all situations.
Firstly, the term "murder" is the correct one when discussing the illegal taking of lives. To use the term "kill" is to report less than actually took place.
Similarly, the common usage for "terror" is when violence is committed against civilians in order to strike fear in the hearts of the rest of the population. Therefore, placing this term in quotes implies that there is a chance that the event in question was not against civilians, or that it was not an attempt to cause fear in the civilian population. However, any witness would be clear that this attack was indeed against civilians and that it was just the latest in a tradition of bombings, a policy of terror, well reported by the Arabs themselves, attempting to cause Israelis to doubt their safety. Therefore, the use of quotations (or of euphamisms such as "strike") does not only fail to preserve journalistic integrity, it does the opposite: it creates a serious journalistic bias against the truth.
Sometimes, a journalist, or any observer, by simply reporting the honest facts, will have to make a value judgement. Any report from a witness of Jeffrey Dahmer in action would be negligently incomplete without the words "murder", "cannibal" and "repulsive". In this type of extreme circumstance, when purposely using terms that minimize the event observed in order to shy away from passing moral judgement, a reporter ends up making the opposite moral judement. One who claims that Jeffrey Dahmer "killed" instead of "murdered" and "recycled" instead of "cannibalized" would be, in effect, condoning his actions, and making them palatable and justifiable to the audience.
The same applies when reporting on terror and murder. To call the acts of the Itamar terrorists anything less than "brutal murder" simply falls short of the journalistic requirement to report what one sees. To call an Arab bombing in Israel a "Palestinian strike" is an attempt to neutralize the evil being done by the terrorists, and in effect justify it to the readers. It also serves as an attempt to make Israeli "strikes" morally equivalent to Arab terror, ignoring the obvious and clear intent of the Israeli Army to avoid civilian casualties, and the obvious and clear intent of the Arab terrorists to specifically target civilians.
The question to Reuters is: You say that "Police said it was a 'terrorist attack' -- Israel's term for a Palestinian strike." What do you call it when a suitcase filled with explosives is detonated at a civilian bus stop? A "strike". When you are so careful to remove any perceived moral judgement by avoiding the standard terms society uses, you end up siding morally with terror.
Yes, this is exactly what Reuters and CNN have done. The news agencies use euphemisms that they believe will remove any moral judgement, presenting only the dry facts. However, instead of sounding neutral, they end up biased, questioning the basic facts that any witness would acknowledge. They end up at the very least, excusing, and, most likely, rationalizing and validating the murder of innocents. This is bad reporting and an unconsciable display of immorality.
This is not to say that these types of "morally neutral" euphemisms are new to Jews. We Jews have heard these types of phrases before. "Resettlement" (death camps), "lovely new homes for Jews" (Thereisenstadt), "work camp" (Auschwitz), "special treatment" (gas chamber and crematoria), and "final solution" (genocide). The fact is that the media outlets have a huge impact on how the world sees conflicts, and their reporting definitely has taken a side with the "militants" (terrorists) against the "Zionist regime" (democratic, civil Israel).
Not too long ago, another media outlet also tried to supress the reporting of evil perpetrated upon the Jews:
On November 14, 2001, in the 150th anniversary issue, The New York Times ran an article by former editor Max Frankel reporting that before and during World War II, the Times had maintained a strict policy in their news reporting and editorials to minimize reports on the Holocaust. The Times accepted the detailed analysis and findings of journalism professor Laurel Leff, who had published an article the year before in the Harvard International Journal of the Press and Politics, that the New York Times had deliberately suppressed news of the Third Reich’s persecution and murder of Jews.Leff concluded that New York Times reporting and editorial polices made it virtually impossible for American Jews to impress Congress, church or government leaders with the importance of helping Europe’s Jews. (source)
CNN and Reuters editors and journalists should be cognizant of the implications of what they write, apologize to the Jews of Israel, and learn a lesson for the future.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Murder In Itamar
The world again is witness to Jews being murdered in the most brutal way, for being Jews. Parents and three children, the majority of the Fogel family, is wiped out in a way that is reminiscient of the pogroms of years past. It is up to our government to protect us from the animals that surround us, and yet they point the finger of blame at the enemy instead. Is it any wonder that Arabs murder Jews? Is anyone seriously surprised? The shock should be at the Jewish government which gambles time and again with its citizens' lives, like an addicted gambler, every time coming out the loser.
The 12 year old daughter came home and found her three siblings stabbed, mortally wounded, and a baby lying next to his father crying, "Daddy, wake up!". May God avenge the souls of those murdered, and may this be the last tragedy we suffer.
This poem by Bialik speaks of similarly slit throats, babies snuggling close to dead mothers in an attempt to revive them, and the depths of the galut. As we step through the redemption, may we gather our strength and ensure that this evil occur no more.
בְּעִיר הַהֲרֵגָה
קוּם לֵךְ לְךָ אֶל עִיר הַהֲרֵגָה וּבָאתָ אֶל-הַחֲצֵרוֹת,
וּבְעֵינֶיךָ תִרְאֶה וּבְיָדְךָ תְמַשֵּׁשׁ עַל-הַגְּדֵרוֹת
וְעַל הָעֵצִים וְעַל הָאֲבָנִים וְעַל-גַּבֵּי טִיחַ הַכְּתָלִים
אֶת-הַדָּם הַקָּרוּשׁ וְאֶת-הַמֹּחַ הַנִּקְשֶׁה שֶׁל-הַחֲלָלִים.
וּבָאתָ מִשָּׁם אֶל-הֶחֳרָבוֹת וּפָסַחְתָּ עַל-הַפְּרָצִים
וְעָבַרְתָּ עַל-הַכְּתָלִים הַנְּקוּבִים וְעַל הַתַּנּוּרִים הַנִּתָּצִים,
בִּמְקוֹם הֶעֱמִיק קִרְקַר הַמַּפָּץ, הִרְחִיב הִגְדִּיל הַחוֹרִים,
מַחֲשֹׂף הָאֶבֶן הַשְּׁחֹרָה וְעָרוֹת הַלְּבֵנָה הַשְּׂרוּפָה,
וְהֵם נִרְאִים כְּפֵיוֹת פְּתוּחִים שֶׁל-פְּצָעִים אֲנוּשִׁים וּשְׁחֹרִים
אֲשֶׁר אֵין לָהֶם תַּקָּנָה עוֹד וְלֹא-תְהִי לָהֶם תְּרוּפָה,
וְטָבְעוּ רַגְלֶיךָ בְּנוֹצוֹת וְהִתְנַגְּפוּ עַל תִּלֵּי-תִלִּים
שֶׁל-שִׁבְרֵי שְׁבָרִים וּרְסִיסֵי רְסִיסִים וּתְבוּסַת סְפָרִים וּגְוִילִים,
כִּלְיוֹן עֲמַל לֹא-אֱנוֹשׁ וּפְרִי מִשְׁנֶה עֲבוֹדַת פָּרֶךְ;
וְלֹא-תַעֲמֹד עַל-הַהֶרֶס וְעָבַרְתָּ מִשָּׁם הַדָּרֶךְ –
וְלִבְלְבוּ הַשִּׁטִּים לְנֶגְדְּךָ וְזָלְפוּ בְאַפְּךָ בְּשָׂמִים,
וְצִיצֵיהֶן חֶצְיָם נוֹצוֹת וְרֵיחָן כְּרֵיחַ דָּמִים;
וְעַל-אַפְּךָ וְעַל-חֲמָתְךָ תָּבִיא קְטָרְתָּן הַזָּרָה
אֶת-עֶדְנַת הָאָבִיב בִּלְבָבְךָ – וְלֹא-תְהִי לְךָ לְזָרָא;
וּבְרִבֲבוֹת חִצֵּי זָהָב יְפַלַּח הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ כְּבֵדְךָ
וְשֶׁבַע קַרְנַיִם מִכָּל-רְסִיס זְכוּכִית תִּשְׂמַחְנָה לְאֵידְךָ,
כִּי-קָרָא אֲדֹנָי לָאָבִיב וְלַטֶּבַח גַּם-יָחַד:
הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ זָרְחָה, הַשִּׁטָּה פָּרְחָה וְהַשּׁוֹחֵט שָׁחַט.
וּבָרָחְתָּ וּבָאתָ אֶל-חָצֵר, וְהֶחָצֵר גַּל בּוֹ –
עַל הַגַּל הַזֶּה נֶעֶרְפוּ שְׁנַיִם: יְהוּדִי וְכַלְבּוֹ.
קַרְדֹּם אֶחָד עֲרָפָם וְאֶל-אַשְׁפָּה אַחַת הוּטָלוּ
וּבְעֵרֶב דָּם שְׁנֵיהֶם יְחַטְטוּ חֲזִירִים וְיִתְגּוֹלָלוּ;
מָחָר יֵרֵד גֶּשֶׁם וּסְחָפוֹ אֶל-אַחַד נַחֲלֵי הַבָּתוֹת –
וְלֹא-יִצְעַק עוֹד הַדָּם מִן הַשְּׁפָכִים וְהָאַשְׁפָּתוֹת,
כִּי בִּתְהֹם רַבָּה יֹאבַד אוֹ-יַשְׁקְ נַעֲצוּץ לִרְוָיָה –
וְהַכֹּל יִהְיֶה כְּאָיִן, וְהַכֹּל יָשׁוּב כְּלֹא-הָיָה.
וְאֶל עֲלִיּוֹת הַגַּגֹּות תְּטַפֵּס וְנִצַּבְתְּ שָׁם בָּעֲלָטָה –
עוֹד אֵימַת מַר הַמָּוֶת בַּמַּאֲפֵל הַדּוֹמֵם שָׁטָה;
וּמִכָּל-הַחוֹרִים הָעֲמוּמִים וּמִתּוֹךְ צִלְלֵי הַזָּוִיּוֹת
עֵינַיִם, רְאֵה, עֵינַיִם דּוּמָם אֵלֶיךָ צוֹפִיּוֹת.
רוּחוֹת הַ"קְּדוֹשִׁים" הֵן, נְשָׁמוֹת עוֹטְיוֹת וְשׁוֹמֵמוֹת,
אֶל-זָוִית אַחַת תַּחַת כִּפַּת הַגַּג הִצְטַמְצְמוּ – וְדוֹמֵמוֹת.
כַּאן מְצָאָן הַקַּרְדֹּם וְאֶל-הַמָּקוֹם הַזֶּה תָּבֹאנָה
לַחְתֹּם פֹּה בְּמֶבָּטֵי עֵינֵיהֶן בַּפַּעַם הָאַחֲרוֹנָה
אֶת כָּל-צַעַר מוֹתָן הַתָּפֵל וְאֶת כָּל-תַּאֲלַת חַיֵּיהֶן,
וְהִתְרַפְּקוּ פֹּה זָעוֹת וַחֲרֵדוֹת, וְיַחְדָּו מִמַּחֲבוֹאֵיהֶן
דּוּמָם תּוֹבְעוֹת עֶלְבּוֹנָן וְעֵינֵיהֶן שׁוֹאֲלוֹת: לָמָּה? –
וּמִי-עוֹד כֵּאלֹהִים בָּאָרֶץ אֲשֶׁר-יִשָּׂא זֹאת הַדְּמָמָה?
וְנָשָׂאתָ עֵינֶיךָ הַגָּגָה – וְהִנֵּה גַם רְעָפָיו מַחֲרִישִׁים,
מַאֲפִילִים עָלֶיךָ וְשׁוֹתְקִים, וְשָׁאַלְתָּ אֶת-פִּי הָעַכָּבִישִׁים;
עֵדִים חַיִּים הֵם, עֵדֵי רְאִיָּה, וְהִגִּידוּ לְךָ כָּל-הַמּוֹצְאוֹת:
מַעֲשֶׂה בְּבֶטֶן רֻטָּשָה שֶׁמִּלּאוּהָ נוֹצוֹת,
מַעֲשֶׂה בִּנְחִירַיִם וּמַסְמֵרוֹת, בְּגֻלְגָּלוֹת וּפַטִּישִׁים,
מַעֲשֶׂה בִּבְנֵי אָדָם שְׁחוּטִים שֶׁנִּתְלוּ בְּמָרִישִׁים,
וּמַעֲשֶׂה בְּתִינוֹק שֶׁנִּמְצָא בְּצַד אִמּוֹ הַמְדֻקָּרָה
כְּשֶׁהוּא יָשֵׁן וּבְפִיו פִּטְמַת שָׁדָהּ הַקָּרָה;
וּמַעֲשֶׂה בְּיֶלֶד שֶׁנִּקְרַע וְיָצְאָה נִשְׁמָתוֹ בְּ"אִמִּי!" –
וְהִנֵּה גַם עֵינָיו פֹּה שׁוֹאֲלוֹת חֶשְׁבּוֹן מֵעִמִּי.
וְעוֹד כָּאֵלֶּה וְכָאֵלֶּה תְּסַפֵּר לְךָ הַשְׂמָמִית
מַעֲשִׂים נוֹקְבִים אֶת-הַמֹּחַ וְיֵשׁ בָּהֶם כְּדֵי לְהָמִית
אֶת-רוּחֲךָ וְאֶת-נִשְׁמָתְךָ מִיתָה גְּמוּרָה עוֹלָמִית –
וְהִתְאַפַּקְתָּ, וְחָנַקְתָּ בְּתוֹךְ גְּרוֹנְךָ אֶת הַשְּׁאָגָה
וּקְבַרְתָהּ בְּמַעֲמַקֵּי לְבָבְךָ לִפְנֵי הִתְפָּרְצָהּ,
וְקָפַצְתָּ מִשָּׁם וְיָצָאתָ – וְהִנֵּה הָאָרֶץ כְּמִנְהָגָהּ,
וְהַשֶּׁמֶשׁ כִּתְמֹל שִׁלְשֹׁם תְּשַׁחֵת זָהֳרָהּ אָרְצָה.
וְיָרַדְתָּ מִשָּׁם וּבָאתָ אֶל-תּוֹךְ הַמַּרְתֵּפִים הָאֲפֵלִים,
מְקוֹם נִטְמְאוּ בְּנוֹת עַמְּךָ הַכְּשֵׁרוֹת בֵּין הַכֵּלִים,
אִשָּׁה אִשָּׁה אַחַת תַּחַת שִׁבְעָה שִׁבְעָה עֲרֵלִים,
הַבַּת לְעֵינֵי אִמָּהּ וְהָאֵם לְעֵינֵי בִּתָּהּ,
לִפְנֵי שְׁחִיטָה וּבִשְׁעַת שְׁחִיטָה וּלְאַחַר שְׁחִיטָה;
וּבְיָדְךָ תְמַשֵּׁש אֶת-הַכֶּסֶת הַמְטֻנֶּפֶת וְאֶת-הַכָּר הַמְאָדָּם,
מִרְבַּץ חֲזִירֵי יַעַר וּמִרְבַּעַת סוּסֵי אָדָם
עִם-קַרְדֹּם מְטַפְטֵף דָּם רוֹתֵחַ בְּיָדָם.
וּרְאֵה גַּם-רְאֵה: בַּאֲפֵלַת אוֹתָהּ זָוִית,
תַּחַת מְדוֹכַת מַצָּה זוֹ וּמֵאֲחוֹרֵי אוֹתָהּ חָבִית,
שָׁכְבוּ בְעָלִים, חֲתָנִים, אַחִים, הֵצִיצוּ מִן-הַחוֹרִים
בְּפַרְפֵּר גְּוִיּוֹת קְדוֹשׁוֹת תַּחַת בְּשַׂר חֲמוֹרִים,
נֶחֱנָקוֹת בְּטֻמְאָתָן וּמְעַלְּעוֹת דַּם צַוָּארָן,
וּכְחַלֵּק אִישׁ פַּת-בָּגוֹ חִלֵּק מְתֹעָב גּוֹי בְּשָׂרָן –
שָׁכְבוּ בְּבָשְׁתָּן וַיִּרְאוּ – וְלֹא נָעוּ וְלֹא זָעוּ,
וְאֶת-עֵינֵיהֶם לֹא-נִקֵּרוּ וּמִדַּעְתָּם לֹא יָצָאוּ –
וְאוּלַי גַּם-אִישׁ לְנַפְשׁוֹ אָז הִתְפַּלֵּל בִּלְבָבוֹ:
רִבּוֹנוֹ שֶׁל-עוֹלָם, עֲשֵׂה נֵס – וְאֵלַי הָרָעָה לֹא-תָבֹא.
וְאֵלֶּה אֲשֶׁר חָיוּ מִטֻּמְאָתָן וְהֵקִיצוּ מִדָּמָן –
וְהִנֵּה שֻׁקְּצוּ כָּל-חַיֵּיהֶן וְנִטְמָא אוֹר עוֹלָמָן
שִׁקּוּצֵי עוֹלָם, טֻמְאַת גּוּף וָנֶפֶשׁ, מִבַּחוּץ וּמִבִּפְנִים –
וְהֵגִיחוּ בַעֲלֵיהֶן מֵחוֹרָם וְרָצוּ בֵית-אֱלֹהִים
וּבֵרְכוּ עַל-הַנִּסִּים שֵׁם אֵל יִשְׁעָם וּמִשְׂגַּבָּם;
וְהַכֹּהֲנִים שֶׁבָּהֶם יֵצְאוּ וְיִשְׁאֲלוּ אֶת רַבָּם:
"רַבִּי! אִשְׁתִּי מָה הִיא? מֻתֶּרֶת אוֹ אֲסוּרָה?" –
וְהַכֹּל יָשׁוּב לְמִנְהָגוֹ, וְהַכֹּל יַחֲזֹר לְשׁוּרָה.
וְעַתָּה לֵךְ וְהֵבֵאתִיךָ אֶל-כָּל הַמַּחֲבוֹאִים:
בָּתֵּי מָחֳרָאוֹת, מִכְלְאוֹת חֲזִירִים וּשְׁאָר מְקוֹמוֹת צוֹאִים.
וְרָאִיתָ בְּעֵינֶיךָ אֵיפֹה הָיוּ מִתְחַבְּאִים
אַחֶיךָ, בְּנֵי עַמֶּךָ וּבְנֵי בְנֵיהֶם שֶׁל-הַמַּכַּבִּים,
נִינֵי הָאֲרָיוֹת שֶׁבְּ"אַב הָרַחֲמִים" וְזֶרַע הַ"קְּדוֹשִׁים".
עֶשְׂרִים נֶפֶשׁ בְּחוֹר אֶחָד וּשְׁלֹשִׁים שְׁלֹשִׁים,
וַיְגַדְּלוּ כְבוֹדִי בָּעוֹלָם וַיְקַדְּשׁוּ שְׁמִי בָּרַבִּים...
מְנוּסַת עַכְבָּרִים נָסוּ וּמַחֲבֵא פִשְׁפְּשִׁים הָחְבָּאוּ,
וַיָמוּתוּ מוֹת כְּלָבִים שָׁם בַּאֲשֶׁר נִמְצָאוּ,
וּמָחָר לַבֹּקֶר – וְיָצָא הַבֵּן הַפָּלִיט
וּמָצָא שָׁם פֶּגֶר אָבִיו מְגֹאָל וְנִמְאָס – – –
וְלָמָּה תֵבְךְּ, בֶּן-אָדָם, וְלָמָּה תָלִיט
אֶת-פָּנֶיךָ בְּכַפְּךָ? – חֲרֹק שִׁנַּיִם וְהִמָּס!
וְיָרַדְתָּ בְּמוֹרַד הָעִיר וּמָצָאתָ גִּנַּת יָרָק,
וַאֲוֵרָה גְדוֹלָה עִם הַגִּנָּה, הִיא אֲוֵרַת הֶהָרֶג.
וּכְמַחֲנֵה תִּנְשְׁמוֹת עֲנָק וְאֵימֵי עֲטַלֵּפִים
הַסְּרוּחִים עַל-חַלְלֵיהֶם שִׁכּוֹרֵי דָם וַעֲיֵפִים.
שָׁם עַל קַרְקַע הָאֲוֵרָה שָׁטְחוּ לָהֶם שֶׁטַח
אוֹפַנִּים מְפֻשְּׂקֵי יְתֵדוֹת כְּאֶצְבָּעוֹת שְׁלוּחוֹת לִרְצֹחַ,
וּפִיפִיּוֹתָם מְגֹאָלִים עוֹד בְּדַם אָדָם וָמֹחַ.
וְהָיָה בַּעֲרֹב הַיּוֹם, בִּנְטוֹת שֶׁמֶשׁ מַעֲרָבָה,
מְעֻטָּף בְּעַנְנֵי דָּם וְנֶאְפַּד אֵשׁ לֶהָבָה,
וּפָתַחְתָּ אֶת-הַשַּׁעַר, בַּלָּט וּבָאתָ אֶל-הָאֲוֵרָה
וְאֵימָה חֲשֵׁכָה תִּבְלָעֶךָּ, וּתְהֹם זְוָעָה נַעֲלָמָה:
מָגוֹר, מָגוֹר מִסָּבִיב... מְשׁוֹטֵט הוּא בַּאֲוֵרָהּ,
שׁוֹרֶה הוּא עַל הַכְּתָלִים וְכָבוּשׁ בְּתוֹךְ הַדְּמָמָה.
וּמִתַּחַת תִּלֵּי הָאוֹפַנִּים, מִבֵּין הַחוֹרִים וְהַסְּדָקִים,
עוֹר תַּרְגִּישׁ כְּעֵין פִּרְפּוּר שֶׁל-אֲבָרִים מְרֻסָּקִים,
מְזִיזִים אֶת הָאוֹפַנִּים הַתְּלוּלִים עַל-גַּבֵּיהֶם,
מִתְעַוְּתִים בִּגְסִיסָתָם וּמִתְבּוֹסְסִים בִּדְמֵיהֶם;
וְאֶנְקַת חֲשָׁאִים אַחֲרוֹנָה – קוֹל עֲנוֹת חֲלוּשָׁה
מִמַּעַל לְרֹאשְׁךָ עֲדַיִן תְּלוּיָה כְּמוֹ קְרוּשָׁה,
וּכְעֵין צַעַר נֶעְכָּר, צַעַר עוֹלָם, תּוֹסֵס שָׁם וְחָרֵד.
אֵין זֹאת כִּי אִם-רוּחַ דַּכָּא רַב-עֱנוּת וּגְדֹל-יִסּוּרִים
חָבַשׁ כָּאן אֶת-עַצְמוֹ בְּתוֹךְ בֵּית הָאֲסוּרִים,
נִתְקַע פֹּה בִּדְוֵי עוֹלָם וְלֹא-יֹאבֶה עוֹד הִפָּרֵד,
וּשְׁכִינָה שְׁחֹרָה אַחַת, עֲיֵפַת צַעַר וִיגֵעַת כֹּחַ,
מִתְלַבֶּטֶת פֹּה בְּכָל-זָוִית וְלֹא-תִמְצָא לָהּ מָנוֹחַ,
רוֹצָה לִבְכּוֹת – וְאֵינָהּ יְכוֹלָה, חֲפֵצָה לִנְהֹם – וְשׁוֹתֶקֶת,
וְדוּמָם תִּמַּק בְּאֶבְלָהּ וּבַחֲשָׁאִי הִיא נֶחֱנֶקֶת,
פּוֹרֶשֶׂת כְּנָפֶיהָ עַל צִלְלֵי הַקְּדוֹשִׁים וְרֹאשָׁהּ תַּחַת כְּנָפָהּ,
מַאֲפִילָה עַל-דִּמְעוֹתֶיהָ וּבוֹכִיָּה בְלִי שָׂפָה – – –
וְאַתָּה גַם-אַתָּה, בֶּן-אָדָם, סְגֹר בַּעַדְךָ הַשַּׁעַר,
וְנִסְגַּרְתָּ פֹּה בָּאֲפֵלָה וּבַקַּרְקַע תִּכְבֹּשׁ עֵינֶיךָ
וְנִצַּבְתָּ כֹּה עַד-בּוֹשׁ וְהִתְיַחַדְתָּ עִם-הַצַּעַר
וּמִלֵּאתָ בּוֹ אֶת-לְבָבְךָ לְכֹל יְמֵי חַיֶּיךָ,
וּבְיוֹם תְּרֻשַּׁשׁ נַפְשְּךָ וּבַאֲבֹד כָּל חֵילָהּ –
וְהָיָה הוּא לְךָ לִפְלֵיטָה וּלְמַעְיַן תַּרְעֵלָה,
וְרָבַץ בְּךָ כִּמְאֵרָה וִיבַעֶתְךָ כְּרוּחַ רָעָה,
וּלְפָתְךָ וְהֵעִיק עָלֶיךָ כְּהָעֵק חֲלוֹם זְוָעָה;
וּבְחֵיקְךָ תִשָּׂאֶנּוּ אֶל-אַרְבַּע רוּחוֹת הַשָּׁמַיִם,
וּבִקַּשְׁתָּ וְלֹא-תִמְצָא לוֹ נִיב שְׂפָתַיִם.
וְאֶל-מִחוּץ לָעִיר תֵּצֵא וּבָאתָ אֶל בֵּית-הָעוֹלָם,
וְאַל-יִרְאֲךָ אִישׁ בְּלֶכְתְּךָ וִיחִידִי תָּבֹא שָׁמָּה,
וּפָקַדְתָּ קִבְרוֹת הַקְּדוֹשִׁים לְמִקְּטַנָּם וְעַד-גְּדוֹלָם,
וְנִצַּבְתָּ עַל עֲפָרָם הַתָּחוּחַ וְהִשְׁלַטְתִּי עָלֶיךָ דְּמָמָה:
וּלְבָבְךָ יִמַּק בְּךָ מֵעֹצֶר כְּאֵב וּכְלִמָּה –
וְעָצַרְתִּי אֶת-עֵינֶיךָ וְלֹא-תִהְיֶה דִמְעָה,
וְיָדַעְתָּ כִּי עֵת לִגְעוֹת הִיא כְּשׁוֹר קוּד עַל הַמַּעֲרָכָה –
וְהִקְשַׁחְתִּי אֶת-לְבָבְךָ וְלֹא-תָבֹא אֲנָחָה.
הִנֵּה הֵם עֶגְלִֵי הַטִּבְחָה, הִנֵּה הֵם שׁוֹכְבִים כֻּלָּם –
וְאִם יֵשׁ שִׁלּוּמִים לְמוֹתָם – אֱמֹר, בַּמֶּה יְשֻׁלָּם?
סִלְחוּ לִי, עֲלוּבֵי עוֹלָם, אֱלֹהֵיכֶם עָנִי כְמוֹתְכֶם,
עָנִי הוּא בְחַיֵּיכֶם וְקַל וָחֹמֶר בְּמוֹתְכֶם,
כִּי תָבֹאוּ מָחָר עַל-שְׂכַרְכֶם וּדְפַקְתֶּם עַל-דְּלָתָי –
אֶפְתְּחָה לָכֶם, בֹּאוּ וּרְאוּ: יָרַדְתִּי מִנְּכָסָי!
וְצַר לִי עֲלֵיכֶם, בָּנַי, וְלִבִּי לִבִּי עֲלֵיכֶם:
חַלְלֵיכֶם – חַלְלֵי חִנָּם, וְגַם-אֲנִי וְגַם-אַתֶּם
לֹא-יָדַעְנוּ לָמָּה מַתֶּם וְעַל-מִי וְעַל-מָה מַתֶּם,
וְאֵין טַעַם לְמוֹתְכֶם כְּמוֹ אֵין טַעַם לְחַיֵּיכֶם.
וּשְׁכִינָה מָה אוֹמֶרֶת? – הִיא תִּכְבֹּש בֶּעָנָן אֶת רֹאשָׁהּ
וּמֵעֹצֶר כְּאֵב וּכְלִמָּה פּוֹרֶשֶׁת וּבוֹכָה...
וְגַם-אֲנִי בַּלַּיְלָה בַלַּיְלָה אֵרֵד עַל הַקְּבָרִים,
אֶעֱמֹד אַבִּיט אֶל-הַחֲלָלִים וְאֵבוֹשׁ בַּמִּסְתָּרִים –
וְאוּלָם, חַי אָנִי, נְאוּם יְיָ, אִם-אוֹרִיד דִּמְעָה.
וְגָדוֹל הַכְּאֵב מְאֹד וּגְדוֹלָה מְאֹד הַכְּלִמָּה –
וּמַה-מִּשְּׁנֵיהֶם גָּדוֹל? – אֱמֹר אַתָּה, בֶּן אָדָם!
אוֹ טוֹב מִזֶּה – שְׁתֹק! וְדוּמָם הֱיֵה עֵדִי,
כִּי-מְצָאתַנִי בִקְלוֹנִי וַתִּרְאֵנִי בְּיוֹם אֵידִי;
וּכְשׁוּבְךָ אֶל-בְּנֵי עַמֶּךָ – אַל-תָּשׁוּב אֲלֵיהֶם רֵיקָם,
כִּי מוּסַר כְּלִמָּתִי תִּשָּׂא וְהוֹרַדְתּוֹ עַל-קָדְקֳדָם,
וּמִכְּאֵבִי תִּקַּח עִמְּךָ וַהֲשֵׁבוֹתוֹ אֶל-חֵיקָם.
וּפָנִיתָ לָלֶכֶת מֵעִם קִבְרוֹת הַמֵּתִים, וְעִכְּבָה
רֶגַע אֶחָד אֶת-עֵינֶיךָ רְפִידַת הַדֶּשֶׁא מִסָּבִיב,
וְהַדֶּשֶׁא רַךְ וְרָטֹב, כַּאֲשֶׁר יִהְיֶה בִּתְחִלַּת הָאָבִיב:
נִצָּנֵי הַמָּוֶת וַחֲצִיר קְבָרִים אַתָּה רוֹאֶה בְעֵינֶיךָ;
וְתָלַשְׁתָּ מֵהֶם מְלֹא הַכַּף וְהִשְׁלַכְתָּם לַאֲחוֹרֶיךָ,
לֵאמֹר: חָצִיר תָּלוּשׁ הָעָם – וְאִם-יֵשׁ לַתָּלוּשׁ תִּקְוָה?
וְעָצַמְתָּ אֶת-עֵינֶיךָ מֵרְאוֹתָם, וּלְקַחְתִּיךָ וַאֲשִׁיבְךָ
מִבֵּית-הַקְּבָרוֹת אֶל-אַחֶיךָ אֲשֶׁר חָיוּ מִן-הַטִּבְחָה,
וּבָאתָ עִמָּם בְּיוֹם צוּמָם אֶל בָּתֵּי תְפִלָּתָם
וְשָׁמַעְתָּ זַעֲקַת שִׁבְרָם וְנִסְחַפְתָּ בְדִמְעָתָם;
וְהַבַּיִת יִמָּלֵא יְלָלָה, בְּכִי וְנַאֲקַת פֶּרֶא,
וְסָמְרָה שַׂעֲרַת בְּשָׂרְךָ וּפַחַד יִקְרָאֲךָ וּרְעָדָה –
כָּכָה תֶּאֱנֹק אֻמָּה אֲשֶׁר אָבְדָה אָבָדָה...
וְאֶל-לְבָבָם תַּבִּיט – וְהִנּוֹ מִדְבָּר וְצִיָּה,
וְכִי-תִצְמַח בּוֹ חֲמַת נָקָם – לֹא תְחַיֶּה זֶרַע,
וְאַף קְלָלָה נִמְרֶצֶת אַחַת לֹא-תוֹלִיד עַל-שִׂפְתֵיהֶם.
הַאֵין פִּצְעֵיהֶם נֶאֱמָנִים – – וְלמָה תְפִלָּתָם רְמִיָּה?
לָמָּה יֱכַחֲשׁוּ לִי בְּיוֹם אֵידָם, וּמַה-בֶּצַע בְּכַחֲשֵׁיהֶם?
וּרְאֵה גַם-רְאֵה: עוֹד הֵם נְמַקִּים בִּיגוֹנָם,
כֻּלָּם יוֹרְדִים בַּבֶּכִי, יִשְּׂאוּ קִינָה בְּנִיהֶם,
וְהִנֵּה הֵם מְתוֹפְפִים עַל-לִבְבֵיהֶם וּמִתְוַדִּים עַל-עֲוֹנָם
לֵאמֹר: "אָשַׁמְנוּ בָּגַדְנוּ" – וְלִבָּם לֹא-יַאֲמִין לְפִיהֶם.
הֲיֶחֱטָא עֶצֶב נָפוֹץ וְאִם-שִׁבְרֵי חֶרֶשׂ יֶאְשָמוּ?
וְלָמָּה זֶה יִתְחַנְּנוּ אֵלָי? – דַּבֵּר אֲלֵיהֶם וְיִרְעָמוּ!
יָרִימוּ-נָא אֶגְרֹף כְּנֶגְדִי וְיִתְבְּעוּ אֶת עֶלְבּוֹנָם,
אֶת-עֶלְבּוֹן כָּל-הַדּוֹרוֹת מֵרֹאשָׁם וְעַד-סוֹפָם,
וִיפוֹצְצוּ הַשָּׁמַיִם וְכִסְאִי בְּאֶגְרוֹפָם.
וְגַם-אַתָּה, בֶּן-אָדָם, אַל-תִּבָּדֵל מִתּוֹךְ עֲדָתָם,
הַאֲמֵן לְנִגְעֵי לִבָּם וְאַל-תַּאֲמֵן לִתְחִנָּתָם;
וּבְהָרֵם הַחַזָּן קוֹלוֹ: "עֲשֵׂה לְמַעַן הַטְּבוּחִים!
עֲשֵׂה לְמַעַן תִּינֹוקוֹת! עֲשֵׂה לְמַעַן עוֹלְלֵי טִפּוּחִים"!
וְעַמּוּדֵי הַבַּיִת יִתְפַּלְּצוּ בְּזַעֲקַת תַּאֲנִיָּה,
וְסָמְרָה שַׂעֲרַת בְּשָׂרְךָ וּפַחַד יִקְרָאֲךָ וּרְעָדָה –
וְהִתְאַכְזַרְתִּי אֲנִי אֵלֶיךָ – וְלֹא תִגְעֶה אִתָּם בִּבְכִיָּה
וְכִי תִפְרֹץ שַׁאֲגָתְךָ – אֲנִי בֵּין שִׁנֶּיךָ אֲמִיתֶנָּה;
יְחַלְּלוֹּ לְבַדָּם צָרָתָם – וְאַתָּה אַל תְּחַלְּלֶנָּה.
תַּעֲמֹד הַצָּרָה לְדוֹרוֹת – צָרָה לֹא-נִסְפָּדָה,
וְדִמְעָתְךָ אַתָּה תֵּאָצֵר דִּמְעָה בְלִי-שְׁפוּכָה,
וּבָנִיתָ עָלֶיהָ מִבְצַר בַּרְזֶל וְחוֹמַת נְחוּשָׁה
שֶׁל-חֲמַת מָוֶת, שִׂנְאַת שְׁאוֹל וּמַשְׂטֵמָה כְבוּשָׁה,
וְנֹאחֲזָה בִלְבָבְךָ וְגָדְלָה שָׁם כְּפֶתֶן בִּמְאוּרָתוֹ,
וִינַקְתֶּם זֶה מִזֶּה וְלֹא-תמְצְאוּ מְנוּחָה;
וְהִרְעַבְתָּ וְהִצְמֵאתָ אוֹתוֹ – וְאַחַר תַּהֲרֹס חוֹמָתוֹ
וּבְרֹאשׁ פְּתָנִים אַכְזָר לַחָפְשִׁי תְשַׁלְּחֶנּוּ
וְעַל-עַם עֶבְרָתְךָ וְחֶמְלָתְךָ בְּיוֹם רַעַם תְּצַוֶּנּוּ.
עַתָּה צֵא מִזֶּה וְשׁוּב הֵנָּה בֵּין הַשְּׁמָשׁוֹת
וְרָאִיתָ אַחֲרִית אֵבֶל עָם: וְהִנֵּה כָּל-אֵלֶּה הַנְּפָשׁוֹת
אֲשֶׁר-חָרְדוּ וְהֵקִיצוּ בֹקֶר – שָׁבוּ לָעֶרֶב וַתֵּרָדַמְנָה,
ִויגֵעֵי בֶכִי וְדַכֵּי רוּחַ הִנָּם עוֹמְדִים עַתָּה בַּחֲשֵׁכָה,
עוֹד הַשְּׂפָתַיִם נָעוֹת, מְפַלְּלוֹת – אַךְ הַלֵּב נָחַר תּוֹכוֹ,
וּבְלֹא נִיצוֹץ תִּקְוָה בַּלֵּב וּבְלִי שְׁבִיב אוֹר בָּעָיִן
הַיָּד תְּגַשֵּׁשׁ בָּאֲפֵלָה, תְּבַקֵּשׁ מִשְׁעָן – וָאִָיִן...
כָּכָה תֶּעְשַׁן עוֹד הַפְּתִילָה אַחֲרֵי כְלוֹת שַּמְנָהּ,
כָּךְ יִמְשֹׁךְ סוּס זָקֵן אֲשֶׁר נִשְׁבַּר כֹּחוֹ.
לוּ אַגָּדַת תַּנְחוּמִים אַחַת הִנִּיחָה לָהֶם צָרָתָם,
לִהְיוֹת לָהֶם לִמְשִׁיבַת נֶפֶשׁ וּלְכַלְכֵּל שֵׂיבָתָם!
הִנֵּה כָלָה הַצּוֹם, קָרְאוּ "וַיְחַל", אָמְרוּ "עֲנֵנוּ" – וְלָמָּה
עוֹד הַצִּבּוּר מִתְמַהְמֵהַּ? – הַיִקְרְאוּ גַּם "אֵיכָה? –
לֹא! הִנֵּה דַרְשָׁן עוֹלֶה עַל-הַבָּמָה,
הִנֵּה הוּא פוֹתֵחַ פִּיו, מְגַמְגֵּם וּמְפִיחַ אֲמָרָיו,
טָח תָּפֵל וְלוֹחֵשׁ פְּסוּקִים עַל מַכָּתָם הַטְּרִיָּה,
וְאַף קוֹל אֱלֹהִים אֶחָד לֹא-יַצִּיל מִפִּיהוּ ,
גַּם-נִיצוֹץ קָטָן אֶחָד לֹא-יַדְלִיק בִּלְבָבָם;
וְעֵדֶר אֲדֹנָי עוֹמֵד בִּזְקֵנָיו וּבִנְעָרָיו,
אֵלֶּה שׁוֹמְעִים וּמְפַהֲקִים וְאֵלֶּה רֹאשׁ יָנִיעוּ;
תַּו הַמָּוֶת עַל-מִצְחָם וּלְבָבָם יֻכַּת שְׁאִיָּה.
מֵת רוּחָם, נָס לֵחָם, וֵאלֹהֵיהֶם עֲזָבָם.
וְגַם אַתָּה אַל-תָּנֹד לָהֶם, אַל-תְּזַעְזַע חִנָּם פִּצְעֵיהֶם,
אַל-תִּגְדֹּשׁ עוֹד לַשָּׁוְא סְאַת צָרָתָם הַגְּדוּשָׁה;
בַּאֲשֶׁר תִּגַּע אֶצְבָּעֲךָ – שָׁמָּה מַכָּה אֲנוּשָׁה,
כָּל-בְּשָׂרָם עֲלֵיהֶם יִכְאַב – אֲבָל נוֹשְׁנוּ בְּמַכְאוֹבֵיהֶם
וַיַּשְׁלִימוּ עִם חַיֵּי בָשְׁתָּם, וּמַה-בֶּצַע כִּי תְנַחֲמֵם?
עֲלוּבִים הֵם מִקְּצֹף עֲלֵיהֶם וְאוֹבְדִים הֵם מֵרַחֲמֵם;
הַנַּח לָהֶם וְיֵלֵכוּ – הִנֵּה יָצְאוּ הַכּוֹכָבִים,
וַאֲבֵלִים וַחֲפוּיֵי רֹאשׁ וּבְבֹשֶׁת גַּנָּבִים
אִישׁ אִישׁ עִם-נִגְעֵי לִבּוֹ יָשׁוּב הַבָּיְתָה,
וְגֵווֹ כָּפוּף מִשֶּׁהָיָה וְנַפְשׁוֹ רֵיקָה מִשֶּׁהָיְתָה,
וְאִישׁ אִישׁ עִם נִגְעֵי לִבּוֹ יַעֲלֶה עַל-מִשְׁכָּבוֹ
וְהַחֲלֻדָּה עַל-עֲצָמָיו וְהָרָקָב בִּלְבָבוֹ...
וְהָיָה כִּי-תַשְׁכִּים מָחָר וְיָצָאתָ בְּרֹאשׁ דְּרָכִים –
וְרָאִיתָ הֲמוֹן שִׁבְרֵי אָדָם נֶאֱנָקִים וְנֶאֱנָחִים,
צוֹבְאִים עַל חַלּוֹנוֹת גְּבִירִים וְחוֹנִים עַל הַפְּתָחִים,
מַכְרִיזִים בְּפֻמְבֵּי עַל-פִּצְעֵיהֶם כְּרוֹכֵל עַל-מַרְכֹּלֶת,
לְמִי גֻּלְגֹּלֶת רְצוּצָה וּלְמִי פֶּצַע יָד וְחַבּוּרָה,
וְכֻלָּם פּוֹשְׁטִים יָד כֵּהָה וְחוֹשְׂפִים זְרוֹעַ שְׁבוּרָה,
וְעֵינֵיהֶם, עֵינֵי עֲבָדִים מֻכִּים, אֶל יַד גְּבִירֵיהֶם
לֵאמֹר: "גֻּלְגֹּלֶת רְצוּצָה לִי, אָב "קָדוֹשׁ" לִי –תְּנָה אֶת תַּשְׁלוֹמֵיהֶם!"
וּגְבִירִים בְּנֵי רַחֲמָנִים מִתְמַלְּאִים עֲלֵיהֶם רַחֲמִים
וּמוֹשִׁיטִים לָהֶם מִבִּפְנִים מַקֵּל וְתַרְמִיל לַגֻּלְגֹּלֶת
אוֹמְרִים "בָּרוּךְ שֶׁפְּטָרָנוּ" – וְהַקַּבְּצָנִים מִתְנַחֲמִים.
לְבֵית הַקְּבָרוֹת, קַבְּצָנִים! וַחֲפַרְתֶּם עַצְמוֹת אֲבוֹתֵיכֶם
וְעַצְמוֹת אַחֵיכֶם הַקְּדוֹשִׁים וּמִלֵּאתֶם תַּרְמִילֵיכֶם
וַעֲמַסְתֶּם אוֹתָם עַל-שֶׁכֶם וִיצָאתֶם לַדֶּרֶךְ, עֲתִידִים
לַעֲשׂוֹת בָּהֶם סְחוֹרָה בְּכָל-הַיְרִידִים;
וּרְאִיתֶם לָכֶם יָד בְּרֹאשׁ דְּרָכִים, לְעֵין רוֹאִים,
וּשְׁטַחְתֶּם אוֹתָם לַשֶּׁמֶשׁ עַל-סְמַרְטוּטֵיכֶם הַצֹּאִים,
וּבְגָרוֹן נִחָר שִׁירָה קַבְּצָנִית עֲלֵיהֶם תְּשׁוֹרְרוּ,
וּקְרָאתֶם לְחֶסֶד לְאֻמִּים וְהִתְפַּלַּלְתֶּם לְרַחֲמֵי גוֹיִם
וְכַאֲשֶׁר פְּשַׁטְתֶּם יָד תִּפְשֹׁטוּ, וְכַאֲשֶׁר שְׁנוֹרַרְתֶּם תִּשְׁנוֹרְרוּ.
וְעַתָּה מַה-לְךָ פֹּה, בֶּן-אָדָם, קוּם בְּרַח הַמִּדְבָּרָה
וְנָשָׂאתָ עִמְּךָ שָׁמָּה אֶת-כּוֹס הַיְגוֹנִים,
וְקָרַעְתָּ שָׁם אֶת-נַפְשְׁךָ לַעֲשָׂרָה קְרָעִים
וְאֶת-לְבָבְךָ תִּתֵּן מַאֲכָל לַחֲרוֹן אֵין-אוֹנִים,
וְדִמְעָתְךָ הַגְּדוֹלָה הוֹרֵד שָׁם עַל קָדְקֹד הַסְּלָעִים
וְשַׁאֲגָתְךָ הַמָּרָה שַׁלַּח – וְתֹאבַד בִּסְעָרָה.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Ki Tisa and the Nation
(A short דבר תורה written for this week. For a more philosophical view on מחצית השקל and the dialectic discussed, see previous posts on the subject.)
In general, the world sees society as a way to find the maximum good for the largest number of individuals. Plato's Republic, Rousseu's Social Contract, all of these see unity and nationhood as means to the end of individual success and happiness. Even Christianity does so, in seeing the salvation of the individual as the greatest good, the highest completion of an individual.
Not so the Jewish Torah. Judaism sees a dialectic -- two interdependent, complementing, and at times, competing values: the individual, and the nation. On the one hand, the individual is seen throughout chassidut (especially Chabad) as a microcosm of the universe. Our personal avodas hashem, service of God, and responsibility for our actions are unquestioned.
However, in Torah thought, the Nation occupies its own unique and important role. Judaism sees the completion of the individual only through his contribution to, and building of, the nation -- the society. The Shulchan Aruch rules that one may keep all the laws, but if he separates himself from the community, for example by not fasting with them, he is incomplete as an individual. The teleological goal of Torah and Mitzvos is to bring about a just, complete society, which will be a light unto the nations, such that the nations will look to it, see utopia, and remark that "רק עם חכם ונבון הגוי הגדול הזה", and this immediately brings them to a recognition of God -- as the pasuk continues: ומי גוי גדול אשר לו חוקים ומשפטים צדיקים, the Torah God gave us.
The nation occupies a central place in Jewish philosophy, such that it can define halachik reality, for example, קידוש החדש, and setting the calendar, as we bless מקדש ישראל והזמנים, God sanctifies Isarael, who defines the calendar.
However, in our day to day lives, it is easy to forget this crucial element of our existence. We may easily fall into the trap of thinking that our individual lives are the only important thing, that our individual service of God can be complete in and of itself. Partly to counter this mistaken notion, and to remind us of our completion only through the nation, Hashem instituted the commandment of מחצית השקל. We give a half Shekel. Why not a whole one? As the commentators explain, this half is to remind us that without the nation, whithout counting our brothers and sisters as ourselves, without seeing our completion in the nation of Israel, we are only half. We are incomplete.
May we be spurred, by reading of the מחצית השקל,to find our way to synthesize the dialectic of individual and community, and arrive at a greater level of service of God and personal, and national, completion.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
בשאלת מהות איסור חזרה בשבת
- לרש"י, המשנה מדבר בליל שבת, וזה עיקר המח', ולכן דברי ר' ששת שמחזירין אפילו בשבת, מדובר ביום המחרת.הייתי חושב שבליל שבת מותר כי מוכח שאדעתה לאהדורי בשביל מחרת, אבל בשבת לא מוכחא מילתא, קמ"ל שאף ביום השבת מותר.לרש"י, לב"ש, מה שאסור זה ליל שבת.
- אבל תוס' אומר שפשטות המשנה מורה על עובדה שעיקר המח' זה בחול, לא בשבת. כל המשנה מובן יותר בקלות (במיוחד חלק הראשון) בערב שבת. לכן דברי ר' ששת "אפילו בשבת" מוסבים על ליל שבת. לתוס', מה שאסור לב"ש זה ערב שבת אם לא יוכל להרתיחו מבעוד יום. זה בעייתי לי, למה שיהיה אסור בע"ש, אף אם לא יוכל להרתיח מבעוד יום? איך זה שונה משהייה שמותר לפני שבת כדי שייגמר בישולו בשבת עצמו? איך חזרה זה אסור בגלל מחזי כמבשל אבל שהייה מותר?
- לענות על שאלתי, עיין רא"ש שמסביר. כמו תוס' הוא שואל כמה זמן קודם שבת אסור להחזיר? ועונה, 1 אסור היכא דנתקרר ואין שהות להרתיח מבעוד יום. אבל לא שמח עם זה, כי אז יש הבדל בין איסור חזרה בשבת לבע"ש, שבשבת אסור אף אם רותח, אבל בע"ש מותר אם כבר רותח. אז מסיק רא"ש וגם תוס' ש2 בע"ש אף אם רותח אסור כל היכא דאם היה קר לא היה יכול להרתיח עד שבת. ואיסור חול של חזרה זה כמו של שבת. בשבת כבר נתבשל ורק נמצא על הכירה להשהותה שם, כן נמי בע"ש, אסור להחזיר היינו אחר שנגמר הבישול ומניחה עומדת על הכירה להחזיק החום. ואם נטלה אז מן הכירה, אסור להחזירה, אטו שבת (אטו מחזי כמבשל שזה הסיבה שחזרה אסורה בשבת עצמה). וכולה חדא גזרה, כיון שלא מתבשלת עוד על הכירה זה כתחילת שהייה, ואם שרינן להחזיר מבעוד יום, יבוא לעשות כן בשבת. אבל כל זמן שלא נתבשלה כל צרכה וודאי נוטל ומחזיר כל הזמן, כי זה שהייה ולא חזרה. כל זמן שהוא עומד על האש בלא הפרעה ברציפות, זה שהייה שמותר. מיד כשמוריד מהאש, זה שובר את השהייה, ומייד כשיחזיר, זה ממש מחזי כמבשל, זה נראה כמו הפעולה של מבשל.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Allan Bloom's Closing of the American Mind, A Summary
I have almost finished reading Bloom's Closing of the American Mind and, while I am sure I will have more to say in way of criticism and discussion in the future, for now I feel the need to summarize what he has written. The book is heavier reading than I expected, and I anticipate that the finer points may become blunted with the passage of time unless I commit his general thesis to writing while it is still fresh in my mind. Any corrections or comments are welcome.
Bloom argues that in modern culture, people have become homogenized; differences are shallow and culture presently contains only the most superficial elements of what culture used to mean.
Parents have lost control over their children's moral discipline with television and music replacing an anchored morality with relativistic moral theories. There are new morals for new times, and the old generation might get out of the way if they refuse to lend a hand.
Modern American interest in music, other people, relationships, religion, and love, lacks that which gave these things meaning and value. They are now immediate and appreciated for the most superficial elements they possess: love and Eros are really just sex; musical complexity, shades of meaning and passion are really just the heavy, brutish sexualized beat of rock. Making these sublime aspects of life immediately tangible and attainable by everyone, we have robbed them of their height; the ascent to the pinnacle of the mountain has been plowed to a plateau that is the lowest common demoninator.
American democracy has led to an egalitarian push to say that every child is creative, exceptional and genius. As soon as someone develops truly into these things, as a Beethoven or a Shakespeare, democracy pushes them back into the pack, because everyone standing out means no one really can.
In modern society's greatest success, the Enlightenment, Locke and his compatriots cast off the shackles of a social order led by a monarch (the type of society which put Socrates to death) who endangered the scientist/philosopher by trying to fit him into the social system and control his thoughts. They deliberately replaced monarchy with liberal democracy, which saw as the most protected, and the most sacred, the untouchable, the scientists and philosophers, who ultimately ran the society as puppeteers. However, natural science went its own way with its freedom, leaving the unifying meta-system, philosophy, in the cold. While Kant bridged the gap, giving natural science and reason its limits and providing a framework for everything else, Rousseau, and, later Nietzsche and Heidegger, saw the weakness of reason and the contemplative life. They saw action as superior to thought. Thus, in a backlash against the contemplative side of the scientist/philosopher, and against the Enlightenment in fact, they took advantage of the natural sciences and eschewed the historical consciousness called for by the Enlightenment (a prime example is the philosophical climate of the Soviet Union). Viva Activa was better than Viva Contemplativa. Values are relative, and there is no way for one to pass judgment other than action. It is this reaction that ushered in the collapse of the University as an independent, sacred ground for thinkers with true academic freedom. It is here that the University became simply another arena in which the cultural and political theories and parties acted out their battles.
And it is precisely this backlash against the Enlightenment that has come to the shores of America, decades after Heidegger's capitulation of the German University. In the American sixties, as in the twenties in Germany, the University has lost its sacred status as the source of contemplative thought and open, free discourse. The Black Power movement is only a powerful example of what is happening and continues to happen. Bloom quotes Marx, that "History repeats itself, the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce." In Germany, it was the right, here, it is the left, but it is the same dismantling of the University and the contemplative life in both cases. The professors are unable to defend the University because they have lost vision of its purpose. They try to give the public what it wants, because they have forgotten what it means to educate, to raise above the mundane and create a beacon of academic freedom and honesty. They strip core classes of languages, history, philosophy, and they thus turn their schools into vocational schools, not meant to educate and ennoble, but meant to give economical and political power to their charges.
In addition, a new interest in morality rose in the student body (which was indicative of general society). This was not the quiet morality of doing no evil, telling the truth and respecting elders -- the brand of morality that makes sacrifice every day, which Kant claimed is understood by the child but takes a lifetime of humble goodness to achieve. Rather, this new morality was the morality not of keeping laws, but of breaking them in the name of a higher law. It was a constant crisis, not acknowledging true morality, and seeing the moral struggle only in the epic, they type of struggle which in reality is truly rare. (We can see this today with University students championing the major moral causes as their own, while living personally amoral lives. They are "nice", they exude a childish veneer of pleasantness, but have lost Polaris in the search for truth.) Aside from its own problems, this morality had the unfortunate result of allowing students to blithely equate morally between the Beast of Belsen and the secretaries of the War Draft Board. (To my mind comes immediately the ridiculous assertion held on many University campuses and in society as a whole that Israel is as apartheid South Africa was, or that IDF commanders are Nazis. When we see things so starkly, and see our moral banners as the apex of moral struggles, we tend to blur the distinctions between situations, and judge passionately instead of rationally.)
The loss of purpose in the American university is mirrored by the inability of the students to see anything in life as worth striving for, as of higher moral or cultural value than anything else they see around them. The High Culture of society, embodied in the University has become lost and that institution simply reflects now the low culture of society.
The University has excelled at pigeon-holeing increasingly specific fields of knowledge, demonstrating an ability to split the atom, cure cancer, aggregate lexicons of lost languages, collate and study massive amounts of data in psychological studes. It remains, however, unable to define a basic path to a general education of its students. This path, Bloom states, is the concept of the Great Books. Reading these works without the historicism of the humanities, rather as living documents that speak to modern society, is the only way to provide a passion and interest in a holistic application of education to the students. However, most faculties ignore this method, or despise it.
The fact is that natural science sees itself as the sole posessor of true knowledge. It handles empirical fields, the ones that see matter as unified and humans as matter. They see the Great Books as a spiritual quest, but not immediately impactive of their study. On the other hand, the study of that which makes a human human, what is known in religion as the soul, this study is split into humanites, viewing it as an art (Rosseau), and the social sciences, which prefer to view it as a science (and itself as the next rung on the ladder after biology), and qunatifiable (Locke). These two disciplines disagree over their very subject matter. The latter views the Great Books as inapplicable to itself as they are in essence a science (desiring to attain the status of the natural sciences), while the former is embarrassed by what is exposed in the Great Books, rascism, elitsm and sexism.
The destruction of the University and the cheapening of the human experience is what America must struggle with. History will judge her, and we must act to provide the University with a reason for existence, and the student a true depth resultant from a true education. (I believe Bloom's statement here may be reflective of his feeling toward modern humanity in general, not just America.)
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
A Hauntingly Beautiful Song
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Tearing "K'ri'ah" At the Kotel
Disclaimer: As in all halachik discussions, what appears below is not meant as ruling, but as discussion only. Please discuss any practical applications with an orthodox rabbi.
The Talmud (מו"ק כו:א) discusses the commandment of rending one's clothing in three distinct situations: the first is when learning of a relative's (or, under specific circumstances, even non-relatives) death. This is a commonly known law. However, less known is the law to 2) tear "קריעה" (rending) upon various pieces of bad news. An additional category of קריעה is 3) upon the desolate cities of Judea, and the remains of the Temple:
"אמר ר' אלעזר: הרואה ערי יהודה בחורבנן אומר ערי קדשך היו מדבר וקורע. ירושלים בחורבנה, אומר ציון מדבר היתה ירושלים שממה וקורע. בית המקדש בחורבנו, אומר בית קדשינו ותפארתינו אשר הללוך אבותינו היה לשריפת אש וכל מחמדינו היה לחרבה וקורע."
Cities that are under Jewish control would no longer be subject to this law (see שו"ע או"ח תקס"א -- it seems הכל תלוי בשלטון) -- such that we would no longer tear קריעה on Jerusalem, but we would on Bethlehem which, while given to us in the Six Day War by God, was handed over to our enemies by our own government later on. However, even while under Jewish sovereignty, the Temple Mount would still be subject to קריעה, as the tragedy is not so much its control by others, as its desolation and absence of the בית המקדש.
Codified by the Shulchan Aruch (יו"ד ש"מ ל"ח-ל"ט), the law is that one who visits the Temple Mount after longer than 30 days of absence tears his garment. (If one finds this law difficult to observe, he can give his shirt to a friend as a gift, and even while he still wears it, would be exempt from tearing it, since one may not tear a shirt owned by another. This gift must be true, and Rabbi Eliezer Melamed comments that one should at least tear a shirt over the desolation of the Temple Mount once in his life.)
The question that came up yesterday was, what if a person visits the Kotel for the first time in 30 days on חול המועד? On the Sabbath or full-fledged holiday, it is clear that קריעה is not done (שו"ע סע' ל"א). What of חול המועד?
As with the other two categories of קריעה, this would be subject to a rishonic dispute. According to the Mordechai and Ramban, one would tear as usual during חול המועד, but according to the T'rumat Hadeshen, one would refrain, as one does on a full-fledged holiday, unless the קריעה is on parents. The Shulchan Aruch declares that one would tear on חול המועד. The Rema rules as the T'rumat Hadeshen, and yet, in a place with no standard tradition, he rules as the Shulchan Aruch.
It would seem from this that the S'faradim would tear on Chol Hamoed, while the Ashkenazim would refrain. However, Rabbi Melamed mentions that in general, the מנהג is that on Chol Hamoed, one does not tear. (This combined with the especially festive atmosphere at the Kotel during Chol Hamoed make it seem particularly out of place for a person to tear קריעה in front of others at a time when even the laws of אבילות are only observed in private.)
The question that remains is, if one arrived at the Kotel on חול המועד and therefore did not tear, but then re-visits within 30 days, after the holiday, would he be required to tear since he did not fulfill his obligation on the holiday? Is the obligation to tear one that is simply נדחה, pushed off, during the holiday, and re-devolves upon a person immediately afterwards (as is the case in tearing over a death), or is the nature of the obligation different?
The answer can be inferred from the מגן אברהם in או"ח סי' תקס"א, where the law of tearing for the Temple is discussed again. He deals with a case where a person was raised in Jerusalem. As a child, he does not have a requirement to tear. However, upon reaching the age of Bar Mitzvah, although he has an obligation to tear, he is not in a position to tear, since he has seen the Temple area within thirty days! Such a person would never be required to tear, unless he were to leave Jerusalem for longer than thirty days. The ערוך השולחן rules so, as well.
It seems clear from this discussion that the requirement to tear is fundamentally one which requires the "newness" of not having seen the Temple area for thirty days. Only if this requirement is fulfilled would one tear. If one has seen the Temple Mount during a time of פטור, when he is younger than thirteen, it seems clear that he has nonetheless seen the area and is thus no longer obligated in tearing קריעה. Tearing over the Temple Mount is fundamentally different in its parameters from tearing over a dead relative.
It seems to me that this reasoning applies in completely the same way to seeing the Kotel on חול המועד. Thus, one who sees the Kotel on חול המועד and then returns to the site afterwards, would not tear on חול המועד, and would also not tear after the holiday, until having been absent from the Temple area for longer than thirty days. (I was pleased to see that Rabbi Melamed comes to the same conclusion as I do.)
May God help us rebuild his Holy Temple quickly. May these laws become theoretical discussions, and no longer practical, with the pilgrimage of the nation to the בית המקדש.
Again, the above is not meant as ruling, but as discussion only. Please discuss any practical applications with an orthodox rabbi.
Monday, September 06, 2010
Basics of Music
Apropos of not much, here is an outline sketch of what is colloquially called "Classical Music":
Early Period: Voice, Gregorian chant, Choral church music. until about 1400.
Medieval Period: More instrumentation, Renaissance period -- introduction of bass instruments and musical transcription. 1400 - 1600.
Common Practice Period:
Baroque Period: 1600 - 18th C. Continuous bass line, use of counterpoint (independent musical voices enunciated together that are harmonically interrelated), distinction of maj/minor motifs. More ensemble, chamber music. eg Bach, Handel.
Classical Period: 18th C - 1820's. Symphonies. More order to music, use of single reed instruments. eg. WA Mozart, Haydn.
Romantic Period: 1820 - 1910. Nationalist (eg Wagner, Dvorak). Less order, even as orchestras began forming for classical period music. Nocturnes, preludes -- free-form. Piano in present form. Romantic, emotional motives and themes. Grand opera. Eg. Beethoven (really straddles Classical and Romantic), Shubert.
Friday, August 06, 2010
Universal Kindness
In parashat Re'eh, the Jewish nation is poised on the banks of the Jordan, ready to enter the Promised Land. Here, at the threshold of their national destiny, Moshe their leader delivers an epic farewell oratory. The speech is more than a review of their past; it is a vision of their future. Moshe focuses upon the laws that have particular relevance to the national and civil aspects of communal life. It comes as no surprise that Moshe exhorts the Jews regarding laws such as charity. However, he also reviews the foods Jews may eat, and those from which they must abstain. How do the laws of kashrut relate to the nation as a whole?
The food we ingest becomes part of our bodies. In the most literal way possible, what we intake is the source of our energy. Every word spoken, every lifted finger, is powered by what we have eaten. And so, a Jew is careful of what he eats and how he eats it. The commentators discuss many kosher and non-kosher animals, pointing out traits that are desirable or undesirable, to help explain their kosher status.
However, Rabbi Wollenberg from England points out in an article on this week's parsha, one non-kosher animal seems to have a positive trait. The Talmud explains that the stork, called chasidah, is so named for its propensity to do chesed, kindness towards its own kind. This seems like an emulable trait; why is the stork forbidden?
The Kotzker Rebbe explains: the stork engages in acts of kindness towards its own kind. However, this kindness does not extend to those outside the stork's family. The rabbi from Kotzk says that it is not enough, and we may not ignore those outside our circles.
On the face of things, this answer seems like quite a beautiful lesson. However, if we examine the laws of charity, we find that (ב"מ ע"א) "aniyei ircha kodmim": when giving tzedaka, we are responsible first for our own families, then for our own town, then our own city. The laws of charity seem to agree with the kindness of the stork! How can the Kotzker call kindness directed towards one's own kind "unkosher", when that is precisely what the halacha seems to require?
The answer to this question can be found in a subtle distinction between the two. In the laws of charity, the closer circles to a person take precedence. It is not that one may cease to give charity after his own are satisfied. The halacha simply informs us of the proper order. Loving-kindness begins at home, but in no way does it stop there. The light and benificence of the Torah emenates forth and eventually envelops the world. This is in stark contrast to the stork, who the Talmud tells us, limits its kindness exclusively to its own.
It is one of the hardest tasks in our lives not only to do good, but to do ordered good. Order, seder, gives structure to our actions, and allows them to be, not only good now, or in an hour, but in twenty years. My father-in-law often tells me that this is a lesson he received from Rabbi Tessler, of blessed memory: ensure that the good you do is true good, not superficial good. When we order our priorities, we are able to ensure that no good goes undone, while at the same time, none is decayed by exaggeration or neglect.
In one of Rav Kook's pieces of poetry, his 'שיר מרובע', he describes the passage of a man from his concern over his personal redemption, to an interest in Jewish National redemption. From there, the protagonist finds a higher plane of redemption, that of all Mankind. Finally, he ends by finding the ultimate redemption, the redemption of the Universe, and the validation of Creation.
Rav Kook in this poem is not describing layers of consciousness that replace each other. He is rather speaking about maintaining four discrete views in harmony, allowing each to influence and vitalize the other properly. The song is of wisely choosing from a blending of the four perspectives that which best suits whatever situation one experiences.
In Moshe's time and today as well, the transition from desert to Israel is one in which the Jews are tasked with taking the physical and spiritual midbar and converting it to a gan Hashem. Upon entry to Israel, a group of individuals begin the task of building a healthy national home. The rights of the individual and the needs of the community will come into conflict more and more. How are we to properly provide each with their just desserts?
The only way to do this correctly is to maintain different perspectives, individual, national, global and universal. We may not stop at any point, as the stork does. We must recognize the priorities set, but not lose ourselves within their details and waypoints. Thus the chasidah gives way to true chesed, and the individual finds his place not by being erased or lost in the group, but by being given his proper place within the community.
Kashrut, then, provides deep lessons for a nation building a state. The teachings imparted certainly are relevant to the Jews at the doorway to Israel.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
בענין שהייה מטעם הטמנה
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
Hirsch and the Categorical Imperative
"It remains completely unknown to us what objects may be by themselves and apart from the receptivity of our sense. We know nothing but our manner of perceiving them; that manner...not necessarily shared by every being, though, no doubt, by every human being." (Critique 37)
With this revolution in epistemology, Immanuel Kant forever changes the direction of philosophy. After ensuring that all noumena are permanently and fundamentally hidden behind the veil of human perception and sense in his Critique of Pure Reason, Kant finds religion and morality in quite a precarious position. However, in the Critique of Practical Reason, he discusses the saving grace, in his thought, of morality, an a priori and innate morality not derived from experience. Kant calls this objective foundation of "good", the categorical imperative. A necessary corollary of such an innate drive is a God. Thus, Kant, in his own mind, provides for the necessity of a God, and a general inborn human drive to be moral. This far comes Kant.
The purpose of this short post is not to point out the weaknesses in this theory. Kant's ideas were the turning point of philosophy, and the percussions of his ground-breaking theory of the ultimate reality, conceivable by thought and yet un-perceivable in experience, were felt everywhere. So, it is valuable to see how a Jewish philosopher might respond to this theory that rejects absolute knowledge of Godly command.
And indeed, Rabbi SR Hirsch praised Kant. He considered him one who reached the doorstep of Judaism, and by tragedy of ignorance, came no further. For Hirsch, the categorical imperative is not morality, for the moral universe is not what is, but what must be (Grunfeld LXXV). (Rabbi Hirsch makes this point in discussion of the Golden Calf: that the sin immediately after revelation is yet another indication of the Divine origin of the Law, a Law that is hoisted upon people by God who are not yet morally ready for it, as opposed to an organic moral progressive process of wise men in the life of the people.)The innate moral voice in Man is not the voice of morality, it is the yearning for morality. Man's sense of good and evil is not perfect, too much variation exists to be able to call it that. What is constant however, is the desire, the striving to a moral structure. Kant confused the homonomy (self-commanded law) with the desire for a formulated heteronomy.
By making this simple but crucial adjustment in Kant's theory of Practical Reason, Rabbi Hirsch supremely empowers the categorical imperative. No longer does morality hinge upon the sparse commonality of Man's inner moral voice. Hirsch's innate desire for a moral structure, as Kant's innate morality, posits a God. However, Hirsch's conception of the imperative also posits a revelation of Divine Will -- the definition of the heteronomous morality towards which the yearning innate in Man strives. For if humanity is to strive towards an ideal of morality, and if this yearning presupposes a God, then, taken together, these two ideas require a God-given moral code for Man to work towards. The categorical imperative then, for Rabbi Hirsch, is not the oracle of "good" carried personally in every man's breast. Rather, each man carries within him a piece of the morality puzzle, an innate reminder that there is a moral law that must be attained in this world, and that it must be available somehow.
Of course, this leads in to a discussion of the Torah and the scientific necessity to study it from within instead of from without. Perhaps more on that some other time.
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
Gaza Flotilla
The international media and world governments have reacted to Israel's boarding of the Gaza flotilla. The almost universal reaction has been the condemnation of Israel's boarding of a peacefully intentioned vessel in international waters.
I am not so naive as to believe that the truth will change the minds of the media and global leaders. I have seen enough to know that the world has lost its patience with the truth in Israel's case. The media and world organs have provided the Arab world with a mouthpiece, and have repeated the lies so often that they trump truth. The word "occupation" has been used so much, that the world forgets the armistance agreements in '67 and '73, agreements which define Israel's legally binding international frontiers, and provide the West Bank and Gaza as Israeli territory until Israel, Egypt and Jordan, draw up new agreements otherwise. The word "apartheid" is bandied about so that the true racial oppression of actual citizens in South Africa is forgotten. Israeli treatment of non-citizen terrorists is viewed as the mistreatment of law-abiding citizens. Israel's equality and democracy for its diverse citizenry is ignored. The terms "illegal settlement" and "illegal blockade" twist morally and legally acceptable actions into evil practices. And the final, perfect irony, the use of the term "Nazi", calling to memory the wholesale slaughter of innocent civilians, is used to describe the limited actions of a state surrounded and attacked on two sides, to handle actual terrorists intent on the murder of non-combatants.
However, I know that in the end, the truth matters. It matters to us, as we deal with attacks from every side. It matters to Jews world over who know not what to say when confronted by enemies of the truth, who use lies and propoganda to veil their new anti-semitism, called anti-zionism. And the truth will matter when the world once again, for however short a period of time, considers the facts instead of the screams of the mob.
So what is the truth?
1) Hamas is an internationally recognized terrorist organization. (Many may feel that Hamas is a freedom-fighting organization, and not terrorists. In a moment of honesty, however, the free world has named them terrorists because they attack civilians and utilize tactics to induce the population of Israel to fear. Those who choose to label Hamas as anything other than terrorists will have to redefine the word terror.)
2) Hamas is in control of Gaza not through democratic means; rather, they wrested control from the ruling party through violence, bloodshed and intimidation directed towards the residents of Gaza.
3) Since the violent takeover of Gaza by Hamas, Israel and Egypt, with the support of most western Governments, have effected a blockade of Gaza.
4) The sole purpose of this blockade is to prevent arms from reaching the terrorists. Literally hundreds of tons of food reach Gaza from Israel weekly. Gazans are routinely brought to Israeli hospitals for treatment that is beyond the ken of Gazan doctors.
5) The flotilla's express purpose is not to bring food and relief to Gaza. If that was their purpose, they would have agreed to Israel's offer to take the supplies in to Gaza after inspection. The expressed purpose of the flotilla was to break the blockade in place to prevent weaponse from reaching terrorists.
6) According to international agreements regarding running of blockades (see the San Remo Manual, article 67), a ship is boardable even on the high seas if it intends to run a blockade. It is considered in violation of a blockade the moment it sets out from port with the purpose of running the blockade. Israel acted within international law. The use of force is permitted as a last resort.
7) Some say Israel should have allowed the ship through. They say that this would have been less damaging to Israel. However, this is far from true. Israel had three choices: 1) allow the ship through, 2) physically block the ship and reach a standoff situation, 3) take the ships to Israel after boarding them. The third option was the best choice in a sitation that contained only bad choices. (1) would have presented Israel as a paper tiger, unable or unwilling to enforce its own blockade. Further, it would have allowed in potential weaponry and terrorists to Gaza. (2) would have resulted in a standoff situation in which the flotilla members would have used the media to their advantage: imagine the flotilla members going on a hunger strike until being allowed to run the blockade! Or the flotilla ships may have rammed Navy vessels, requiring the use of much more force. Israel really had no choice but to board.
7) The flotilla members claimed the would be non-violent and resist passively. Video and images from the boats reveal these verbal assurances to be lies. The soldiers of Israel's Navy, carrying out legally sanctioned actions, were beaten and thrown overboard, stabbed and shot, by the 'non-violent' protestors. The fact that the feeling around the world is that Israel opened fire on unarmed civilians shows just how powerfully the flotilla members are in control of the media surrounding this event, and/or how biased the world is against Israel.
In conclusion, the Israelis acted within their legal rights and responsibilities towards their citizens. The flotilla was made up of provocateurs whose purpose was to score a big PR win for their side. The state of Israel's image in a world that is tired of the truth and just wants Israel to go away is such that Israel lost the PR battle before it began. Anything Israel did would be reported gleefully, either as a weakness in blockade, or cruelty in boarding.
And to counter all the disinformation, here is a picture of a 'peaceful flotilla member' describing his plans for the Israeli soldiers:
And here is a video documenting the violence met by the Israelis in enforcing their internationally-recognized blockade:
Friday, May 14, 2010
Good Neighbors
In the description of the encampment of the different tribes around the mishkan, the Torah (Bamidbar 3:29) tells us that the tribe of Reuven was in the vicinity of the family of Korach. The Rabbis learn from this that, "Woe is to the wicked, and woe to his neighbor," while "good befalls the righteous, and also his neighbor."
This teaching is mentioned in three different rabbinic sources, and each one delivers it utilizing slightly different diction. In Likutei Sichot, the Lubavitcher Rebbe examines each one in depth. The changes are nuanced, but reflect more than one would think at first glance. By examining each variation, one in Midrash Tanchuma, one in Bamidbar Rabah, and the final one in Rashi's commentary, we can come to a deeper understanding of the power and meaning behind being judged by the company we keep.
In the Tanchuma, it states that the tree tribes bordering on Korach and his compatriots, "avdu imo b'machlok'to", they were destroyed with Korach on account of his divisiveness. This describes the most superficial result of proximity to the wicked: when they get punished, those who dwell beside them are affected, as well.
Rashi's commentary changes the language: "l'kach laku mehem Datan V'Aviram...shenimsh'chu imahem b'machl'kotam", because they joined in the clash with Korach against Moshe, Datan and Aviram were punished. Clearly, Rashi implicates the non-Levites who died with Korach in his sin. It is not mere proximity that doomed them; rather, their proximity led them to join in the sins of the wicked, and thus, deserve punishment. This is a second way that neighboring with evil people brings disaster: there is a palpable danger that one will learn from their ways.
Finally, Bamidbar Rabah puts forth a third variation upon the midrash. "mi hayu ba'alei machloket? Korach...ul'fi shehayu s'muchim kahem R'uven, Shimon v'Gad, hayu kulam ba'alei machloket." Who were the ones in dispute with Moshe? Korach. However, the tribes who lived beside them were all parties to dispute. Likutei Sichot notices the use of the past tense verb here, and therefore understands that this is yet a third dimension to the teaching of chazal: one who ends up dwelling with the wicked reveals a latent tendency within himself to negative influences and behaviors. This is reminiscient of Lot, whose greed and desire for importance led him to the decedance of S'dom, where he became "head to jackals", rather than remain the tail of Avraham's lion (Avot 4:20).
The three aspects of neighblorly effect on one's life also seem to be present in those who choose to live in the vicinity of the righteous. One who makes himself close to tzadikim can benefit from their blessings, as well as learn from their ways. Also, it seems that the impulse to be close to good people is, in itself, fulfillment of an ethical imperative. Rabbi Yose ben Kisma summed this up in 6:9 of Avot.
In modern times, we do not have as much choice as we may like in who our neighbors are. We have limited control over who our children play with, as well. Furthermore, we have a responsibility to help fellow Jews who have lost the path of Torah back to orthodoxy. In light of these realities, how are we to assure ourselves that these aspects of peer pressure are kept in check?
In the past, the book of Job has been quite boring for me. More than forty chapters of long-winded speeches, alternatively complaining about and defending God's ways seem almost like a literary attempt at redundancy. However, I am reading Job's Path to Enlightenment, by Ethan Dor-Shav. By reading the text of Job closely, he comes up with some fascinating insights into the psychology and foundations of faith and religion that apply not only to people in pain and suffering, but to anyone who finds value in a real relationship with Hashem. One of his points, I believe, may perhaps shed light on how we can defend ourselves against the concept of "woe to the wicked's neighbor."
It is generally assumed that Job was a model of virtue before his test from Satan. However, if we pay closer attention, he is only described as lacking the negative: "innocent and straight, and one who feared God and turned away from evil." Indeed, tamim carries a connotation throughout the Bible of naivete. The fourth son at the seder would hardly be considered a tzaddik because of his "innocence"; it is rather a fundamental simplicity that is to be removed by the father and replaced with knowledge and sophistication. Also, Job is described as turning away from evil, but not at all as one who embraces good. He is a model of "virtue devoid of awareness." He is good by rote, by mechanical practice of duty, without developing that spark of interest and passion that marks individuals who engage in a search for closeness to God, "kirvat elokim li tov." Indeed, the essay goes on to demonstrate how Job's suffering bring him to a renewed interest in authentic communion with the Divine, which is only possible when blind routine is expunged from his life.
Most of us live with elements of Job-ness every day. Even when we are passionate and feel close to God, we find ourselves fulfilling the letter of the laws of prayer, tefillin, shabbat-observance and kashrut with an atmosphere of dissociation. In this type of situation, we are in danger of all three elements of neighborly influence. Our very passivity leads us to associate with like people, and we influence each other. The general level of communal observance and passion towards spiritual endeavors may fall, and ultimately, a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. So, the lowest common denominator can be reached.
By learning a lesson from the book of Job, we can infuse our duties towards God and our desire for an intimate bond with Him with a sense of true longing and active, authentic growth. With a sense of purpose and awareness of our position, we can overcome the problems of Korach and Reuven. Instead of being influenced by those who are less than perfect, we can develop ourselves as strong role-models for them, and bring them up, rather than be dragged down.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Independence Day
