Jewish Culture: Part 4

Recounting Jewish History: The Telling

March 18, 2016

Who are you? What does it mean to be you? How do you decide your social groups, your occupation, your associations, your friendships, your marital partner: the context of your life? It's a question you ask and answer nearly every moment of every day, but we are mostly unaware.

Today we define ourselves as individuals, and search in our cultures for a personal identity. But it was not always such; nor is there only a single way. If you go back far enough, humans defined themselves foremost by the groupings in which they lived: religion, nationality, free or slave, merchant or servant. Our ancestors knew themselves first and foremost as Jews.

What does it mean to be a Jew? That question Jews asked more than the modern question,"What does it mean to be a human being?" The seder explains to each Jew who s/he is, and how we got to be this way. What does it mean to be you? It means "You are a Jew." But what does that mean?

As we have seen, the seder takes place in holy time, time both ordained and then marked as holy by the kiddush. What's special about holy time?

Holy times possesses a special intensity. In the rituals of holy time we rehearse and establish for the future the meanings of our lives. Our rituals reflexively explain to us, and thereby establish, what it means to be a Jew, our basic self identification. When you look into the mirror, what do you see? Do you see a human being, or a Jew? Where does your story begin? Does it begin with the exodus from Egypt, in slavery? These questions establish the Foundation Stone at the inner core of each Jew, the personal definition that explains how we formulate and then relate to life's most critical question: who am I and how am I supposed to live? The seder explains, in this intensive and heightened reality, how we are to think of ourselves and therefore behave from this moment on.

Rabbi Lawrence Hoffman explains the difference in separate types of literature. Novels we read alone to ourselves. Poetry we may read alone, or better, aloud; but to ourselves most often. Plays are meant to be read aloud to an audience, and the reader puts on the persona of the character. But when the play concludes, the person returns to his/her previous personality. Liturgy we read aloud, to ourselves and our community, and when the play (re: worship) ends, out intention is to maintain the character we have assumed during the liturgy. Liturgy defines the best within us, urges us to become the person we espouse to be.

Consider how we use a ceremony to define our internal definition of ourselves. Around 187 c.e. Judah the Prince, the principle rabbi of the period, issued the basic set of Jewish laws, known to us as The Mishnah. He wrote, regarding answering the Four Questions in the seder, explaining the seder meal to a child, "And according to the son's intelligence his father instructs him. He commences with shame and concludes with praise; and expounds from 'A wandering Aramean was my father,' (Deuteronomy 26:5) until he completes the whole section."

Let's unpack this short section of a longer mishnah. The Torah commands, "You shall tell to your child on that day, saying ..." (Exodus 13:8) "The day" is the 15th day of Nisan, the first night of the Feast of Unleavened Bread. But what does the verb mean? What is The Telling, haggadah in Hebrew, about precisely? Jews fulfill this command by telling the story of the exodus each year on the first night of Passover. But how do we tell the story? What exactly do we say, and why?

Think about the objective of telling the story. Surely we must obey the divine command to commemorate the day, but what else? Experiencing the exodus shaped the Jewish people. We often refer to the exodus as "the root experience of the Jewish people." It's mentioned in prayer many times daily. How do we transmit this core, generative experience to the next generation, which is the only way to perpetuate the experience. We must explain it to the children in such a way that they imbibe not only the story but the experience itself, to make that story not an historical event but a personal account.

How the seder accomplishes this feat we will explore next week.

JEWISH CULTURE: Part 3

The Origins and Meaning of the Seder

March 9, 2016

Kiddush

Jews celebrate holy time as more significant than both holy people and holy space.

Certainly you have experienced differences in sensing time. Birthdays don't feel the same as school or work days. Funerals and illnesses engender different emotions than family celebrations. We experience time variably, depending on its emotional quality and depth of meaning.

What  does holy mean? We describe God as Ultimate Reality, and the locus of all power. God is, therefore, Absolute Holiness. Although God is wholly other than humanity, of an entirely different existential quality, nonetheless we intuit access to God and say that certain people, places and times make God's presence more available. When we encounter holy people, places or times we gain greater awareness of Ultimate Holiness, the holiness of the Divine.

The Torah proclaims that certain times are intrinsically holier than other times. Whether we participate in intrinsic holiness or cause the holiness  is a matter of debate. But certainly part of human life is experiencing ultimate moments we call holy.

We Jews ritually bookend holy time, designating both the beginning and the end. But not all holy time is the same!

The 3 pilgrimage festivals: Passover (Pesah), the Feast of Weeks (Shavuot) and the Feast of Booths (Sukkot) are all called holy by the Torah. We initiate holy times in several ways: candle lighting, a blessing for wine that marks the time and a blessing for the holy day itself. The last we call kiddush, meaning "sanctification: to make holy." The blessing acknowledges the special nature of the time, like the difference between foothills and the Rockies.

Shabbat and the High Holy Days are also sacred times, but of a higher degree of sacrality. Therefore, when Shabbat coincides with Passover Eve it adds sacred to sacred. Just to complicate things, the intermediate days of Sukkot and Pesah, days 2 through 6, are also holy, but to a lesser degree. Therefore sacred times vary in their magnitude of holiness, some more serious with deeper holiness than others, the Chesapeake Bay versus the Atlantic Ocean in depth.

Sometimes sacred times coincide, as this year of 5776 when the first seder is on the Eve of Sabbath. The degrees of holiness will be mentioned in prayers so that we can understand the level of holy time we are experiencing and act accordingly.  We will see how that can be used to enhance the experience of the holy and to fit the different circumstances of our lives.  Just as we dress differently for various holy times, depending upon solemnity and theme, so the time differs depending on the occasion.

During extremely holy times, we dedicate the entire day to our relationship with God and family. Yom Kippur is the Mariana Trench of holiness. On lesser times, we may work some, and combine work with holy thoughts and experiences. Jewish tradition grants myriad opportunities for holiness, and a variety of experiences depending upon the degree of holiness, the intention of the holy time, and the theme of the holiday.  The type of holy time may well set up the experience of that time and its content.

Kiddush recognizes 3 different times for the start of Passover: a weekday evening, the Eve of the Sabbath (Erev Shabbat), and Saturday night after the Sabbath (Motza'ei Shabbat). 

Let's look at the themes of the basic kiddush, the prayer ushering in the holiness of the day.

On any Passover eve, at the seder, we recite these words, without the words in parentheses [  ]:

We praise You, God, Sovereign of Existence! You have called us for service from among the peoples, and have sanctified our lives with commandments. In love You have given us [Sabbaths of rest,] festivals for rejoicing, seasons of celebration, this Festival of Unleavened Bread, the time of our freedom, a commemoration of the Exodus from Egypt. Praised are You, Adonai our God, Who gave us this joyful heritage and Who sanctifies [the Sabbath,] Israel, and the festivals.

What themes appear here?

1.    Chosenness: we are a people special to God. Different Jewish theologies think of chosenness differently. The Reconstructionists historically rejected it outright. Orthodox Jews believe that God has one special people among all humanity, and uniquely gave us God's commandments. Reform Jews most often believe that we are the "choosing people," meaning that we choose to be God's hands and feet in the world. Anyone choosing God is therefore chosen.

2.    God gave us special times for rejoicing, and specifically this holy time of unleavened bread, as the Bible calls the 15th of the first Hebrew month, Nisan. It's a sacred time, and commemorates the exodus from Egypt. Jews mention the exodus most frequently in prayers. It constitutes the root experience of the Jewish people, the time when we became bound to God forever. Passover celebrates the most important event in Jewish history, and that event is mentioned multiple times daily in prayer.

3.    God sanctifies both Israel and the holy times, a people and a time, both of which have been set aside by God and have special access to God: the people through performing God's commandments and the time by celebrating God's appointed times.

When seder occurs on Friday night, the kiddush above not only includes the sabbath commemoration in the parentheses, we also precede the kiddush with the same words as we regularly sing on Friday night before kiddush, taken from Genesis 2:1-3, the creation of the Sabbath in the Torah. Thus we add the sabbath feeling to Passover: rest, study, prayer and family.

When the seder occurs at sabbath's departure, we add the spices of the havdalah, "separation," ceremony. While traditionally we say that future redemption will occur in Nisan, just as this first redemption from slavery occurred in Nisan, we also have the mythos that the messiah will appear on the sabbath. Thus, we let go of the sabbath with reluctance, as the messiah again has failed to come, and we relinquish the "taste of heaven" that shabbat feeds us.

But when the seder follows shabbat, we go from "holy to holy," from sabbath and its messianic expectations to the time of redemption. It's a different set of sensations from a normal sabbath departure.

In a future post we will also see how the art of medieval haggadahs complicated this transition even more.

JEWISH CULTURE: Part 2

The Origins and Meaning of the Seder

March 3, 2016

What components appeared in the original Passover seder?

The Mishnah lists the seder's parts, as they were performed by Jews in the later part of the second century c.e. Here they are:

Mishnah Pesahim chapter 10

1. Don't eat anything until nightfall of the seder night.

2. Every person must have 4 cups of wine.

3. Say the blessing over the wine first (... borei p'ri hagafen), then the blessing for the day (the longer blessing, ending with ... Baruch atah Adonai m'kadesh [haShabbat v']Yisrael v'ha'z'manim.) Drink the wine.

4. Karpas (vegetables), [which formerly was lettuce, now parsley] with a blessing (... borei p'ri ha'adamah), brought with matzah and haroset.

5. Pour the second cup of wine.

6. Son asks questions. There were 3, not 4.

7. "According to the understanding [level] of the son, the father instructs him, beginning with the reading of (Deuteronomy 26:5ff) "A wandering Aramean was my father ... " and reads the entire section.

8. The participants in the seder must explain at least 3 things to complete the seder: Pesah (the Passover offering, no longer sacrificed on the altar, but replaced by a symbol, a bone, after the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 c.e.), matzah (unleavened bread), and maror (bitter herbs).

9. Because of the command in Exodus 13:8, every generation must see him or herself as though s/he personally left Egypt, and explain that to the children.

10. Recite: "Therefore we are bound to give thanks, to praise, to glorify, to honor, to exalt, to extol and to bless him who wrought all of these wonders for our fathers and for us. He brought us out of bondage to freedom, from sorrow to gladness, and from mourning to Festival day, and from darkness to great light, and from servitude to redemption; so let us say before him Hallelujah." This prayer fulfills the obligation in #9 to see ourselves as though we, personally, left Egypt.

11. Recite the psalms called Hallel, to the end of Psalm 114, which celebrates the exodus from Egypt.

12. Recite a prayer for Redemption. The closing blessing is "Blessed are You, Lord, whas has redeemed Israel."

13. Mix the third cup. Bless the wine.

14. Bless the meal (implied are blessings for matzah, maror, and the prayer "hamotzi.")

15. Mix and pour the fourth cup, finish the Hallel psalms (115-118). Before drinking the wine recite the blessing, "Birkat Ha-Shir," which follows the psalms of Hallel.

16. Recite a prayer thanking God that God brought us out of slavery.

17. After the meal, nothing else may be eaten and no partying.

All of the components of the seder, now and later, are answers to logical questions about how to celebrate the "root experience" of the Jewish people, the exodus. How does a people keep alive their most important lesson, "That God brought us out of Egypt." That is the overall problem solved by the Passover seder.

The Passover holiday is designated as a holy time (Leviticus 23:6). How do we set aside sacred time and demarcate it from secular time? Answer: Say a blessing and drink wine. The first blessing is for the wine, and the second blessing demarcates the day.

The first night of Passover is a special time, a "Night of Watching," on which all future redemptions are also slated to occur. (Exodus 12:42) Therefore we must celebrate it, in accordance with a special, elaborate "symposium meal" that the Romans practiced. To make the meal more elaborate, an extra hors d'oeuvre of vegetables was added, necessitating a blessing for that which is grown in the ground.

The lessons must be perpetuated to the next generation, therefore much was done to encourage questions, both to keep the children awake and interested. Hence, the children were encouraged to ask questions, and if they did not, questions were already prepared.

What, then, is the story of the exodus? A section from the fifth book of the Torah, Deuteronomy, was selected to explain the message of the day, fulfilling the command in Exodus 13:8 and other places to "explain to your son on that day."

But is that story sufficient to explain the gathering? Not only the story must be recounted, but the symbols commanded by the Torah must be explained. According to Rabban Gamaliel, the leader of the community at the end of the first century c.e., the biblically commanded foods, Passover offering, matzah and bitter herbs also must be explained. (Numbers 9:11; Leviticus 23:5)

It is the obligation of every Jew to view him/herself as having been a part of the Exodus. Therefore we say that as part of the service. Then we must praise God for God's goodness, primarily by reciting Psalms of praise, but also through prayer.

We thank God that we have been redeemed by God from servitude, and the ceremony ends.

Here we see the basic symbols and the story of Passover portrayed, conveying the central message of Judaism to a new generation and reaffirming it in every Jew: God brought us out of slavery and made us God's own. Every part of the service has a good reason to exist. Yet, as we will see, there will be more questions and additional parts of the service to answer those questions. We will build on what exists, and fully explain the meaning of Jewish existence to ourselves and our guests.

JEWISH CULTURE
February 26, 2016

"Culture is to humans what instinct is to animals," wrote anthropologist Clifford Geertz. Culture tells us how to think about important decisions and whom to love. Culture is the mental illustrations we use and the values we embrace. It is our art, our sports, our entertainment and our beliefs. Culture expresses and shapes the value system by which we live, and the images, rituals, symbols and myths by which we explain our lives to ourselves and others. Culture is our meaning system, because we are unique animals who require meaning to live.

Liberal Jews attempt to live in two cultures, in our case: American and Jewish. We immerse ourselves in American culture and absorb every detail. We think by American images and illustrate our conversations with American cultural icons, like sports and television references in everyday conversations.

Identity consists largely of the culture by which we think. But liberal American Jews primarily use American cultural symbols.

There are Jewish myths by which we live, also. Every Jew I have ever met thinks of him/herself as once having been a slave in Egypt, for instance. Often we are motivated to feed the hungry and provide a safety net for the poor out of our Jewish identity, identifying with what it's like to be downtrodden through history, even though most of us, personally, have never been oppressed. How many times have I said from the pulpit, "The most frequently cited line in the Torah is, 'You shall love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt,'" and gotten a favorable response? Essential Jewish mythology matters in our lives. It motivates us to do real things, like provide food for the poor and serve meals at the reStart Shelter. But it's a mixed bag.

Most people I know don't primarily think of Jewish examples when making critical decisions in their lives. They don't think Purim's coming, what am I going to send people for shalach manot; or what does Judaism say about this health care decision I am about to make? We divide between Jewish and American culture, although Judaism actually provides answers for all of life's questions. Many people form friendships based on ethnic familiarity, but the lower the age group the less likely that is to happen. For American Jews, most personal culture is actually American, and their individual mental images are American examples, often taken from sports or other entertainment.

This is the first of a series of articles I will write and post here. I intend to examine how Jewish culture works, using the upcoming seders as my example. I'll look at Jewish law and lore, halakhah and midrash, as well as art found in the haggdah. My point is this: Jews who lived in an entirely Jewish milieu thought Jewishly, utilizing Jewish symbols, narratives and rituals in their lives. We may be less definitive about out theologies, but we don't have to be less determined about our Jewish culture. Being steeped in Jewish images, like the matzah on the seder plate, the 4 cups of wine or opening the door for Elijah, and using them as examples in our lives, is very possible for liberal as well as traditional Jews. We just need to emphasize Jewish culture more consciously.

I'll talk about how we might do that, and hopefully, there'll be lots of comments and some discussion back and forth.

Shabbat shalom.

DAYYENU

January 22, 2016

We all love the Passover song, Dayyenu! Every family sings at least a couple of verses. Ilu hotzi hotzi-anu hotzi-anu mi-mitzrayim hotzi-anu mi-mitzrayim dayyenu! Dai-dai-yenu, dai-dai-yenu, dai-dai-yenu dayyenu dayyenu, dayyenu ...

Even reading the words evokes the melody, and how many memories! But what does it mean? I read such a wonderful insight this week!

There are 15 verses, 15 steps of deliverance, from God taking us out of Egypt to building the Temple for us. But so what?

Marc Michael Epstein* noticed that there are 3 stages: What God did for us in Egypt; the grumbling of the Israelites as God redeemed them; and God's continuing salvation.

At the Passover in Egypt, God saved us from Pharaoh:
1. God brought us out of Egypt Exodus 14:30, Genesis 15:13-15
2. God punished the Egyptians Genesis 15:14
3. God destroyed their gods Exodus 7:1, Ex. 14:4, 18; Ex. 12:21-23
4. God killed their first born Exodus 12:29
5. God gave us Egyptian wealth Exodus 12:35-36

God did all of this for us in Egypt. But were the people appreciative? Not really. They grumbled. They were afraid. They murmured against God.
6. God separated the sea for us Exodus 14:21, grumbling Ex. 14:10-12
7. God brought us through on dry land Exodus14:22, grumbling Ex. 14:15
8. God drowned our enemies Exodus 14:28, grumbling Ex. 14:17-18
9. God provided our needs in the desert Numbers 11:18-23; grumbling Numbers 14:27, 13:31, 11:1
10. God fed us manna Exodus 16:14, Numbers 11:7-8; grumbling Ex. 16:8

Even with our grumbling, our rebellions and our lack of appreciation, God kept the covenant established with Abraham (Genesis 15) and continued to bestow gifts on us:
11. God gave us Shabbat Exodus 16:5, 20:8
12. God brought us to Mt. Sinai Exodus 19:2
13. God gave us the Torah Exodus 34:1
14. God brought us into Israel Joshua 3:17
15. God built the Temple for us. I Kings 8:20-21

Did God get disgusted with us for our rebellions? Well, probably yes. Did God disown us and start up with a new people? Definitively not! God and the Jewish people are partners, through thousands of years. The slavery and exodus were predicted to Abraham, and we have been God's servants ever since. Are there disturbances on both sides of the relationship. Just like any marriage: yes there are. But the loyalty between God and the Jewish people is steadfast, and so every year we gather to tell the story of the slavery and freedom, renewing the covenant and the promise in yet another generation.

Shabbat shalom.

*The Medieval Haggadah, pp. 85-90.

Parashat Bo

Next week's Torah portion begins the narrative of the actual exodus from Egypt.

Exodus 12:42 says:

"That was for the Lord a night of vigil (leil shimurim l'Adonai) to bring them out of the land of Egypt; that same night is the Lord's, one of vigil for all the children of Israel throughout the ages."

Two 14th century Catalonian illuminated haggadahs, The Rylands and the Barcelona, open with piyyutim (liturgical poems) with the heading, Leil Shimurim. Virtually all of the classic commentators for the last 2 millennia have interpreted "a night of watching," "a night of preserving," "a night of observing." What exactly does this mean? "Just as God redeemed us from Egypt, without a moment of hesitation; just as God made a covenant with Abraham on this same night, the Covenant of the Pieces (Gen. 15); "so in the future God will redeem Israel on this same night."

The Rylands haggadah precedes Leil Shimurim with a poem reciting how excellent was life at the Exodus and how miserable was their life in Catalonia by contrast.

What does Judaism do for us? Human nature is to consider, in virtually every moment, our existential situation. It has been said that we cannot approach God if we have a stone in our shoe; all we can think about is the stone. But Jewish poetry, prayer, ritual, symbol attempt to redeem our pain by explaining our role in God's plan. "The Jewish people revealed the Torah, the ethical rules of humanity, the 7 Noahide laws, the morality of Micah and Isaiah, to humanity." "Love your neighbor as yourself (Lev. 19:18) What is hateful to you do not do to your neighbor; all the rest is commentary; go and learn. (Hillel)" To achieve such lofty humanitarian heights, we must be thinking all of the time about the intricasies of our lives. What does suffering mean? Why am I here? What is my purpose? That's what Jewish culture does. It's a means to consider the purpose of human life.

Much of American life has abandoned culture, to our detriment. American culture too often demonstrates (think Kardashians here) that life is about money and sex.

If it does consider the great questions, too often there is no concept of Redemption. I love reading Philip Roth, for instance, but as good as he is about stating the existential realities of a male's life, he has no redemptive solutions – just gut wrenching observations.

Judaism not only explains that we suffer. It constructs why we suffer, and the solution. American culture has radically turned toward self-centered obsession. "I have a right to my gun, and your rights to not be intimidated are not my concern." "I'll send my children to private school; you can take care of yourself." I am shocked that in Kansas even the roads are less a public concern. Now there are those who want the users of the roads to pay for them. We truly are focused on ourselves exclusively, devoid of a sensitivity to the transcendant meaning of life. As a result, we are not only disconnected from others, we are disconnected from ourselves as a result.

"A night of vigil for the Eternal." We dedicate an entire night, and then a 7 day celebration, to the idea and ideal of communal freedom. I can't leave Egypt without you. And it's not a thought for Egypt alone, but the destiny of our lives. Just as God redeemed us from Egypt, so in the future God will also redeem. But we all must go together; no one gets redeemed alone. Consider the meaning of the metaphor. There are profound implications for your life.

You want to know what Redemption means. Try watching this YouTube without crying:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v1qtv7uKUlY

We cry because it's beautiful. We cry because we'd love for it to be true in our own lives, that when we fall, everyone would stop and pick us up so that we can finish the race together.

At the seder, the Night of Watching, everyone leaves Egypt holding hands, no one left behind. Think about it. We are a culture of life for everyone. "Just as God redeemed us from Egypt, so in the future God will redeem us." But only if we are willing to hold hands and bring everyone out together.

Shabbat shalom.

December 31, 2015

Parashat Shemot
Exodus 3:4-6
God called to him out of the bush: "Moses! Moses!" He answered, "Here I am." And He said, "Do not come closer. Remove your sandals from your feet, for the place on which you stand is holy ground. I am," He said, "the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob." And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

The first prayer of the Amidah, the Standing Prayer, the most important set of prayers in the siddur, opens with a reference to this quotation, by invoking "the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob." By using this citation, the entire section is brought to mind. To what end?

The entire Amidah is intended to replace the daily sacrifice, which according to the Torah is the linchpin between God and God's people. The daily sacrifice maintains the covenant. (Numbers 28:3-8) Rabban Gamaliel had these prayers composed to substitute for the daily sacrifice. Why did the Rabbis cite this particular section of Torah?

This story is the call of Moses to prophecy, to redeem his people, to represent God before Pharaoh. Just as Moses was called, so we invoke our relationship with God. But we do it by reminding God that our ancestors had a special relationship in service to God.

Moses is told to remove his sandals. In Palestine 2,000 years ago, sandals -- shoes -- defiled the place. They were made from a dead animal. As in Islam today, in approaching a holy God we should do so in a holy state, in this case without shoes. But it broaches the question: "How might we approach God in this prayer?" How do we prepare ourselves to approach the holy God prepared for holiness ourselves?

The prayer causes us to look back and remind ourselves that we stand before God as members of the Jewish people, as a people in covenant to perform God's will. We take a moment to remove ourselves from the daily grind to ask, "How do I make my life holy?" This calls us to an ethical imperative in the manner in which we treat others, particularly the stranger, that we treat the other as though the other were the prophet Elijah in disguise, as an embodiment of holiness. As Abraham welcomed the 3 angels in Genesis 18 with sacrificial hospitality, so we, Abraham's descendants, become worthy of a holy relationship when we act similarly. The Holy God calls God's people to holiness (Leviticus 19:2).

Do we invoke our ancestors to call exclusively on their merit which is absent in us, or to remind ourselves of the relationship that exists and the possibilities of holiness to which we are called? I pray that as we remind God that we have a covenant between us, we acknowledge that the covenant binds us as well as God, and that we are called to act as our higher selves. We decide, because it is an act of will, not to cave in to the demons of self involvement that plague us. But we remember the examples whom we invoke, Abraham and Sarah; Isaac and Rebecca; and Jacob, Leah and Rachel, and thereby search for their holy qualities in ourselves and thereby rise to the relationship God meant for us. That relationship with God is actualized in our actions with people. As Abraham and Sarah served the angels; as Isaac loved Rebecca and chose God above life itself; as Jacob, Leah and Rachel raised children to be God's people in the world, so we should accept the implications and the responsibilities of our history to be what the prophet Isaiah called, "A light to the nations." (Isaiah 42:6)

Now the question, as we prepare for shabbat: what does God ask of us to raise ourselves to a holy relationship with God?

Shabbat shalom.