Judaism and Scholarship

 

“Who is wise? He who learns from every person.”- Rabbi Ben Zoma (Pirkei Avot 4:1).

Learning and Education have always been a prime value in Judaism. Likewise, it was the fabric of my upbringing. “Study and Educate yourself,” my late mother repeatedly told me, quoting her own father’s words, “your scholarship is the only property no one will ever be able to take from you.”

The cultural centrality of learning was always part of my home environment. Since my late father was an observant Jew, Shabbat, and Holy Days, relieved from mundane duties, were dedicated to studying, furthering my Jewish education and knowledge. Every erev Shabbat or festive meal involved learning and had to have a Dvar Torah which included a verse from scriptures or the sages and structured in the form of question and answer. Occasionally, they laced with some funny stories or some anecdotes Those were some of the most memorable and precious moments.

The Mishnah, (Avot 3.3), goes as far as saying that a table where no Dvar Torah is shared is akin to eating from “the sacrifices of the dead.” Contrarily, a table where Dvar Torah is shared is comparable to G-d’s own table.

Scholarship and the empowerment of knowledge is also part of the three letter acronym that compose the word, Chabad (In Hebrewחב"ד  ). The abbreviation stands for the three forms of knowledge, Chochma – wisdom, Binah – comprehension and Da’at – knowledge.

Studying and learning are the source of knowledge. In many ancient societies and institutions such as in Mesopotamia, ancient Egypt, where writing involved many complicated symbols, these two were limited to the scribal class. That, according to Lord, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, resulted in “a hierarchical society,” where “only an elite will ever know how to read and write. They are the knowledge class,” concludes Sacks. In such societies, the burden of preserving and transferring knowledge, clearly, rested on a select few. Sacks also suggests that “the intervention of the alphabet was the birth of the possibility of universal literacy and the beginning of the end of hierarchical societies.

And this is where the ancient Yisraelites differ from other Peoples of antiquity. They had an advantage. According to Professor Douglas Petrovich, “the world’s oldest alphabet was actually an early form of Hebrew.” Petrovich uses “Numerous examples of inscriptions that not only pointed to Hebrew as the first alphabet, but also validate(s) the biblical account of the Israelites in Egypt.” (https://www.ancient-hebrew.org/alphabet/new-discoveries.htm).   Mastering the skills of writing and reading certainly made the task of learning and increasing literacy easier and more accessible to many.

The Jewish culture has always cherished learning and stressed the importance of passing it on from one generation to the next. Our sages could not emphasize enough the importance of learning. Every Jew is compelled to study, each according to their ability and skills and establish a fixed time to study Torah (M. Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Laws of Torah Study, Ch.1).

Already in the book of Devarim (Deuteronomy), 6:4, Am Yisrael is instructed to recite the Shema, the monotheistic dogma of the Jewish faith. Moreover, in Devarim 6:7, we were commanded to teach it to the young ones, day, and night, wherever they are, at home or on the road, “You shall teach them diligently to your children and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.” The duty to pursue learning was a never-ending one.

Torah is more than what we know as the “Five Books of Moses.” The foundation texts in the Jewish culture include the entire Tanach and the Talmud, compiled between the first and seventh centuries. The Talmud is comprised of the oral tradition as well as debates, commentaries and insights of the sages aimed at helping us perceive and discern G-d’s teachings and how to apply them in our daily lives.

Noting the importance and above all the imperative of Torah study, the Babylonian Talmud went as far as saying that “the study of Torah is equal to all the other commandments,” (Shabbat 127a).

It is essential to mention that Torah study is not limited to a specific age. When Rabban Gamliel declared “Provide yourself a teacher,” it was with the intention that one should continue the learning process through one’s life, under the guidance of a teacher regardless of age or social standing (Pirkei Avot 1:16).

The duty of studying the Torah is also reinforced in Joshua 1:8, “This Book of Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it.”

There are rewards attached to such an undertaking, as the last part of the verse states, “For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success.” The Midrash even argues that Torah can be compared to water. Just as our physical subsistence depends on water, our very spiritual, moral, and educational growth begins and ends with Torah.

Furthermore, according to Rabbi Meir, “anyone who involves himself in Torah for its own sake merits many things, and, moreover, the entire world is worthwhile for his sake.” (Pirkei Avot 6:1).

Although this article merely scratches the surface of the vast subject of Judaism and scholarship, one should not be surprised when Benjamin Nathans (Nathans B. Beyond the Pale: The Jewish encounter with Late Imperial Russia. Berkeley: University of California Press; 2002. Pp.111-13) infers that literacy rates and levels have generally been higher in Jewish communities than those of other groups among whom Jews dwelled.

Shavua tov to all fellow Jews. May it be a week of joy, abundant health, saturated with learning and growth.

When Does A Belief Become Part Of A Nation’s Historical Timeline?

The following article was written by Tal Gilad a Yisraeli journalist. It was translated into English by Bat-Zion Susskind-Sacks

It seems that there is no point anymore in addressing the question as to whether there was an Exodus from Egypt or not, since this issue and any opinion about it is affected mainly by agenda. Those who despise anything related to religion / faith (or in fact loathe anything other than Macchiato) qvell in the yearly opportunity to mock the entrenched myth, and whoever is for Bibi is also for Moses. For some reason, the two go hand in hand/ Yes, of course it is a generalization and I know that also on the Right there are those who scorn faith and currently hold haughty rational positions. That’s ok.

I have no doubt that the Exodus from Egypt did take place since we have no reason to believe it did not. What is unusual in a story about a People which wanders from one place to another? Had I wanted to invent an impressive myth about our origin, the last thing that would have jumped into my mind would be to describe us as a bunch of nebechs who had run away from their masters and on the way did some ugly deeds as the Tanach tells us. It would have been far more exciting to tell how the first Man fought an evil dragon but during the battle bumped into a bush which tore off his foreskin. And while he was hurting and bemoaning, a voice came out of Heaven and said: “Oh, Man, do not cry and do not despair, for this circumcised one will become a great nation.” A rain of children started to pour from Heaven and they became the People of Yisrael who overcame the dragon. And since then, we perform circumcision to commemorate the victory and we eat Matzot because the First Man broke the dragon’s head with a wooden board.

We can invent a hundred stories like this, per day. And indeed, there are plenty of such stories in other people’s mythologies.

The Exodus from Egypt does not fulfill the criterion of an unfounded tale. Remove the parts with miracles, if you wish, or reduce the number of people to a mere few thousands, still what is unreasonable about it? “There is no archaeological evidence.”

There is evidence,, however, it cannot be connected, with any certainty, to the Exodus from Egypt. Archaeology is a young discipline. About Egypt, in general, there is still much that is unknown. “No skeletons.” A skeleton erodes and crumbles in a matter of a few decades. What we find, occasionally, are a million years old fossils, lucky skeletons which were surrounded by conditions that allowed them to mix with the minerals and thus survived. Otherwise, the whole planet would be covered with human and animal skeletons.

The story of the Exodus from Egypt is detailed, long and filled with ups and downs and unpleasant details. Were it just a Harry Potter story, no one would have celebrated it every year, actually twice, Pesach and Sukkot. It is fair to assume that not everything happened exactly as told but its nucleus sounds entirely realistic.

Even the Egyptians had a somewhat incensed version of the story of the Exodus. Manetho, an Egyptian historian on the 3^rd century, B.C.E., claimed that the Children of Yisrael are the Hyksos, foreign rulers who were expelled out of Egypt in the 16^th century B.C.E. In ancient Egypt, “The lepers’ libel,” which claimed that the Children of Yisrael were forcefully banished since they were lepers, was circulated, Yuck.

Ok, let us leave a typical narrative of “no way have I lost,” the kind we  hear from our surrounding nations who continue to assert their victory even without their teeth and withn their head is stuck downward in a barrel. The fact is that the narrative refers to that tale. 

In Hebrew there are quite a few words which originated in ancient Egypt, including the name “Moshe (Moses)” which simply means “son.” The suffix, “messes” was commonly used in in ancient Egypt. One of the names that is related to Egypt is Ramsses II, who according to some researchers is the Pharoah mentioned in the Book of Exodus. Circumcision, which Jews practice to signify our unique covenant with G-d,  was customary in Egypt before we adopted it.

The Greek historian, Heroditus, states that “the Syrians who lived in Palestine” (The Jews who lived   and worked in the coastline area which was named after the Philistines) circumcise their sons in the Egyptian tradition, unlike other nations in the region.

Papyrus Ipower, the ancient Egyptian papyrus, describes events, some of which astonishingly resemble the ten plagues, which means that if it were a legend – it originated in Egypt. Ancient Egyptian wall paintings portray Semitic Peoples arriving to Egypt, nothing unusual about it, the Hyksos, likewise, were Semitic. Egypt’s protectorate spread all the way to Northern Eretz Yisrael, albeit shaky.

It all points to a strong bond between Am Yisrael and Egypt.

Were this story not related to religion, the tables would have been turned: the Left would have basked with great pleasure in the story of the Exodus from Egypt and see it as yet another proof that from the onset came from another Land. In fact, the average Leftist might have a dilemma here – who does it hate more, the Jewish faith or Eretz Yisrael. Hatred towards religion gains strength here in Yisrael because it is imprinted in our blood for many more generations. So let us say this – if the Right and the observant Jews insist that we came from Egypt, then perhaps it is true.

"Terumah" – Building a Tabernacle Within Us

One of the topics of this week’s Parashah, Terumah, addresses the construction of the Tabernacle, Mishkan, the transportable house of worship which G-d orders Moses to instruct the Yisraelites to build for him: “have them make a sanctuary for me, and I will dwell among them.” (Exodus 25:8). The Parashah discusses the subject at length, rather exhaustively and with much details.

“It was a modest affair,” states Rabbi Sacks when reviewing the issue of the Tabernacle in his excellent book, “The Home We Build Together.” According to him, and rightly so, “it had, or so it seems, no lasting significance….. So why is the story of the Tabernacle told at such length?” he asks.

Sacks believes that “the {Tabernacle} narrative is deliberately constructed in such a way as to create a set of linguistic parallels between the Yisraelites’ construction of the Tabernacle and G-d’s creation of the universe.” According to Sacks, in “commanding Moses to get the people to make the Tabernacle, G-d was in effect saying: To turn a group; of individuals into a conventional nation, they must build something together.” The kind of Nation that the children of Yisrael were destined to become “is created through the act of creation itself,” Sacks adds.

The Tabernacle which “was built out of difference and diversity” and which was built out of the differential contributions where each was valued equally…….was a visible emblem of community,“ Sacks goes on to say. “It represented…, in social terms integration without assimilation.” The Tabernacle, therefore, is the symbol of society,” Sacks explains. Once we recognize that, we understand the parallelism between the story of creation and the construction of the Tabernacle and its “immense implication: Just as God creates the natural world, so we are called on to create the social universe.”

As always, I am, again, in awe of Sacks’s brilliant interpretation of this Parashah.  I believe, however, that there is another angle that it can be looked at. It stems from the Hebrew choice of words in G-d’s directive to Moses regarding the construction of the Tabernacle, which, unfortunately, is mistranslated..

The Hebrew word, “B’tocham,” that the text uses, means “in them” and not “among them” as the English translation states. That difference sheds another light on what I reckon G-d intended.

My understanding of G-d’s command to Moses is that it is not only the material portable structure that He was referring to. I believe that G-d also meant a spiritual Tabernacle, one that will create a permanent dwelling place for Him not only in their camp but also in their heart, in their soul. G-d wants to dwell “in them,” not only among them. He wishes to be part of their essence.

As significant a step as it was towards helping them become a nation, the Yisraelites did not need only a social universe.  They need to remember that G-d did not intend for them to be a nation just like any other. They are G-d’s chosen People. Without internalizing that notion, without understanding it, their social universe, on its own, would not last long. Without G-d ‘s dwelling in them and not merely among them, as a constant reminder of the Covenant entered at Mount Sinai, they would never accomplish the role that they were called to fulfill.

I would venture, therefore, to add another dimension to Rabbi’s Sacks’s drawing the parallel between G-d’s creation of the natural universe and the social universe symbolized by the construction of the Tabernacle. In my view, the Tabernacle also represents the creation of our Jewish spiritual universe, the one that cements the natural and the social ones into a cohesive unshakable, indestructible and powerful force.

Shavua tov.

Na'aseh V'Nishma

This week’s Parasha is Mishpatim. Am Yisrael is at the foot of Mount Sinai and is receiving G-d’s Laws.

I have been to Mount Sinai. I stood on top of it where Moshe received the Torah and where G-d revealed Himself to Am Yisrael. G-d did not appear to them in any shape or form, merely in a spectacular scene in the configuration of sounds, lights, torches and the reverberation of the Shofar. "וְכָל הָעָם רֹאִים אֶת הַקּוֹלֹת וְאֶת הַלַּפִּידִם וְאֵת קוֹל הַשֹּׁפָר וְאֶת הָהָר עָשֵׁן וַיַּרְא הָעָם וַיָּנֻעוּ וַיַּעַמְדוּ מֵרָחֹק" (Exodus, 20; 14).  This dazzling audio visual spectacle must have had a profound effect on those witnessing it for according to the Hebrew quote above, they “saw” the sounds. The root Re’eh, Reish Alef, Hey  ר,א,ה  also appears in the Tanach in the context  of “understand.” They internalized the divine message and acknowledged it by pledging, “Na’aseh Ve’nishma.” We shall do and we shall hear.

What a sight, what an emotional upheaval it must have been for those present. When I stood on top of that mountain and looked down at the valley underneath where all of Am Yisrael was gathered, I closed my eyes for a brief moment. I was one of them. I could feel the surge of their emotions, the quivering of the foundations of their being, their joy, their ecstasy and the reflection of awe in their eyes. I could feel the words and the sounds that they witnessed as they were being etched on the walls of their essence, an imprint that has been passed on to us, their descendants.

Standing there, I felt proud, very proud, for yet another reason.

The exact number of those that came out of Egypt is not clear. We do know, however, that there were at least 600,000 men among them. So one can safely surmise that there were at least 600,000 witnesses to what I described above, witnesses to their covenant with the G-d of Avraham, Yaakov and Yitzchak.

 Now, what other religion, especially among the monotheistic ones, can claim such a widespread testament to validate that experience? And we all know that there is credibility and authority in numbers. 

With all due respect to other religions where Divine revelation rendered itself to one individual, I am very glad that to our covenant there were so many witnesses! It certainly sends a strong message out.

And, as a Jew I am honoured to be one of its carriers.

Shabbat Shalom

Moshe's Art of Teaching

This week’s Parasha stresses the importance of listening and memorizing. These two verbs appear in the Tanach many times. The root אזן (listen, harken) appears in close to thirty verses in the Tanach. The root זכר (remember) in its various adaptations appears over 350 times.

Any teacher who is well versed in the art of teaching will tell us that adhering to them will achieve the results of great and effective learning. Hearing is not enough. In order to grasp any lesson, one needs to listen attentively and not only internalize it but also memorize it in order to ensure that the learning process of any subject, any lecture has been mastered.

I was first exposed to importance of reviewing and memorizing when I was in second grade. The teacher taught us a very meaningful saying and asked me to make a poster of it. It read, “Anyone who learns Torah but does not repeat the learning is like a man sowing but never reaping.” I remember toiling over that poster as a young child, etching its message on my brain, committing it to memory and eventually getting into the habit of practicing it.

That is what G-d, through Moshe, is doing in this week’s Parasha, “Ha’azinu,” (harken) in D’varim 32. A quick glance at the format in which this Parasha was written, reveals that it is in the form of poetry rather than prose, unlike most other parashot. Instead of long sentences and full paragraphs, one finds two columns and short words. I venture to say that it reflects the way it was delivered, as poetry.  Moreover, I trust it was done so for a reason.

The message of this week’s Parasha is one of the most important ones delivered to Am Yisrael. It is brought forth as they are about to enter the Promised Land WITHOUT Moshe. They need to be prepared, be coached and provided with the proper and relevant tools. These include remembering the Torah, its Mitzvot and the power of Emunah, belief and faith. 

Moshe is worried about the future of Am Yisrael and rightfully so. Has he not witnessed them for over forty years of wandering in the desert? Have they not complained many a times even when their food and other needs were provided for them? He knows how impatient, weak and unprepared they are. History has taught him that Am Yisrael is not the strongest nor the toughest assembly for coping with the harsh reality and new conditions that face them in Eretz Yisrael.

Moshe, the ever-astute teacher, leader needs to ensure that, after he is gone, the processes of learning and mastering his final lesson, will be affixed in the collective memory of our People forever and be evoked as one of his most significant legacies for Am Yisrael and the future of our people.

Under the circumstances, what a better way to teach it than using poetry, a rather unconventional teaching method, to help ensure that the tenets of that intended lesson will forever be inscribed upon their hearts, brains and souls?

And what a powerful message it is. Moshe turns to the Heaven and Earth, his eternal witnesses, two of G-d’s creations that encapsulate time, space and matter "הַאֲזִינוּ הַשָּׁמַיִם וַאֲדַבֵּרָה; וְתִשְׁמַע הָאָרֶץ אִמְרֵי-פִי" (Listen, you heavens, and I will speak;hear, you earth, the words of my mouth). 

And sometimes, on a very quiet starry night, when the world is asleep, if you harken closely, you can hear Moshe's final words echoing everywhere, reaffirming G-d's promise to Am Yisrael and the Jewish People, the promise that like the Heaven and Earth, we, too, are eternal.

Chag Sameach

Pesach

As Jews around the world prepare for the Pesach Holy Day, perhaps it is time to rethink the message and lessons of this very significant and meaningful celebration in our history.

The Hebrew word Pesach means “Pass over.” It is derived from the Book of Shemot (Exodus), 12:7 where the Torah recounts the story of the ten plagues brought upon the Egyptians following Pharaoh’s refusal to “let my people go.”

When G-d was about to inflict the Egyptians with the tenth plague, smiting their first born sons, He told Moses to instruct the Congregation of Yisrael to mark their doorposts with lamb’s blood so that G-d could “pass over” their homes and spare them.

Subsequent to G-d’s wonderous work,  the Congregation of Yisrael was finally freed from slavery, at least the physical kind. Freedom and liberation, however,  as we all know, is not confined merely to unshackling the corporeal chains of bondage. It also involves ridding oneself of the obsequious and submissive mindset so emblematic to those who have been oppressed for a long period of time.

In order to better understand this point, allow me to go back to that verse in Shemot where Moses pleads with Pharaoh to “let my people go.”

That Hebrew verse, to be precise, does not use the term “let” or “free.” Rather, it says “send my people.” (Another unfortunate result of the disastrous mistranslation of our Tanach!) For me, the verb “send” implies a deliberate act with a specific destination, a much more powerful and calculated design by G-d. It was the first step towards becoming a free people, physically, spiritually, culturally and nationally. Not an easy mission for a nation that had been suppressed, abused, isolated and on the verge of eradication, considering Pharoah’s own version of a “final solution” to the Hebrews.

Any slave, be it an individual, a group or a People would have welcomed with open arms such a ploy, it would seem. For who enjoys the status of slavery?

I can almost feel the excitement of Benei Yisrael as they rush to bake their Matzah, pack their belongings, and prepare themselves for their destiny. I can see them gathering their flocks, children and preparing for the great occasion, their deliverance.

Unfortunately, the excitement seemed to have worn off rather fast. Once they realized the hardships ahead of them, they began to miss the slavery routine in Egypt.

Suddenly, the “house of Bondage” did not seem that bad. Moreover, it had swiftly turned into a house of luxury and plentiful, the idyllic place. “If only we had died by G-d’s hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and fish and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death.” (Shemot 16: 2-4)

The Yisraelites may have been freed from physical bondage. They were still, however, inflicted with an emotional and spiritual one, one that had been imposed upon them and their forefathers for a few hundred years.

G-d had, naturally, expected it. He knew that one cannot become free merely by removing physical shackles.  It is, therefore, I believe, that He instructed Moses to wander in the desert for forty years, when a brief overview of the map of the region shows that the route to the Promised Land could have been cut shorter.  Forty years is the approximate life span of a generation.

The slavery generation had to die off, it had to remain in the desert before Am Yisrael could live a free and fulfilling life in its ancestral Homeland. The younger generation had to be coached and prepared to run and oversee its own life without the daily pressure of persecutors.

Fast forward to our times. Has much changed?

It is only seventy years ago, with the establishment of the state of Yisrael, when the Jewish people were liberated from the House of Bondage called Galut (Diaspora). The Galut and its reality indoctrinated Jews to a submissive mentality, the kind that forced us to seek the approval and love of others. Jews were mental slaves.

Unfortunately, some of our people have not yet shed that mindset. They continue to seek endorsement of the nations. They are desperately needy of Love and acceptance and consider the support of strangers the “pots of meat and fish and ate all the food.” Have we forgotten the suffering we endured because of that very long chapter in our history?

My concerns and my questions are, if it took Moses forty years to rid the Yisraelites of a few hundred years old slavish Galut mentality, how long will it take the Jewish state and nation to rid some of its members of a two millennia old one?

How long will it take all of us to Pass Over the threshold from the slave disposition to that of a Free Nation, the kind G-d had intended us to be?

May we all have a meaningful Pesach, full of the celebration of Life and Freedom.

The Torah, a Contract, a Covenant of a Different Kind

In this week’s Torah portion,  Parshat Ekev, D’varim (Deuteronomy) 7:12-8:10, Moshe continues to remind Am Yisrael of the terms of the Covenant that they had entered with G-d at Mount Sinai when receiving the Torah.

Like any contract, written or oral that is entered into between the parties ,  the Mosaic Covenant specifies obligation, the mitzvot, as well as the rewards that result from fulfillment of all obligations and includes  the adverse results of violating its terms and how to deal with such consequences.

There are other Covenants that G-d has entered with Am Yisrael as as the Abrahamic Covenant and the Davidic Covenant. Unlike the Mosaic Covenant though, those are unconditional. This one is not only conditional, it is one that is not easy to follow. Yet, as we all know, Am Yisrael accepted it verbally and out-rightly when they said,     נעשה ונשמע“Naaseh Venishma.” (We shall do and listen).  It is one that is not easy to follow,

A law school professor might tell his students that the Mosaic Covenant is a “CONTRACT OF ADHESION”

A type of Contract, a legally binding agreement between two parties to do a certain thing, in which one side has all the bargaining power and uses it to write the contract primarily to his or her advantage.

That law professor would also possibly ask his students about its validity.  After all, what choice did the people feel they had about accepting such a contract from an all-powerful G-d who had just freed them from slavery in Egypt?   Moreover, they were asked to accept this deal without having really studied it and without benefit of legal counsel to help them understand its implications. 

In retrospect, would they agree that it was a good deal?  Some, like those who erected he Golden Calf or Korach and his congregation, did not and proceeded to violate the contract’s provisions with disastrous effect.

Now, why have we written about this?  

This story teaches something unique about Judaism and Jewish culture and why Torah should have been studied and seen only in the original Hebrew language.

It, also, illustrates something vastly different between traditional Jewish interpretations of Torah and those of others who have adopted Jewish literature and interpreted it to fit their own theologies.

One example where translations of the Torah from Hebrew has erred, innocently or deliberately, is when one refers to the information that was written on the Two Tablets that Moshe brought down from Mount Sinai as “commandments.” What was inscribed on them is described in the Torah asדברות   (Diberot) literally meaning  “pronouncements,” NOT “commandments” as the translation reads. There is a different word in Hebrew for commandments, מצוות (Mitzvot).

Our Torah, literally “instruction” (not law), in Hebrew, describes what happened at Mount Sinai  as ‘giving’ the Torah as a ‘gift’ (giving and gift in Hebrew  are derived from the same root, נ,ת,נ), implying that the giver is benevolent and loving,  like a caring parent,  caring for the welfare and best interests of its children. Therefore, though it may still be a contract of adhesion, it is one provided in love and concern.  It’s the parent who tells his child “look both ways before crossing the street, because the consequences of not doing so could be horrible”, not to set up the child to be fearful and not to be mean to the child, but out of love and care.   That, too, is a ‘contract of adhesion’, but one based on love and concern.

We are troubled by those who teach that all Abrahamic religions are essentially the same, just versions of the same themes and beliefs with little differences here and there.  Some Jews want to believe that as it makes them feel safer to be like everyone else in what they fear as a hostile world.  Christian Missionaries have for a long time preached that line to Jews to encourage them to convert, to just accept a small change, they claim, for salvation.   The problem is that between Judaism and the other “Abrahamic religions,” there is a theologically wide gulf that makes them almost polar opposites.

Christianity sees the establishment of the contract between G-d and Am Yisrael precisely as that definition above of the Contract of Adhesion.  A cruel and demanding G-d imposing harsh rules on the people with a deal they cannot dare refuse without an opportunity to study it.  They combine that with the Hellenistic belief that mankind is helpless and at the whim of the fates and gods, needing a hero to save them.  (according to Christian theologian Fr. Hans Kung). 

In great contrast, Judaism sees that contract more as directions and lessons (Torah, as we mentioned above, means instruction) from a benevolent kind father, who wants the best for his children and from a Benevolent G-d who wants the best for His People, ones who share the desire to set the standards and warn against what will naturally happen if those standards are not kept.  It’s the parent who warns his children to look both ways before crossing the street because he cares for their safety and welfare. 

Thus, for Am Yisrael and Jews, the Covenant is not the kind of one sided deal imposed by the powerful G-d.  It is lessons given as a gift to those who might benefit. In this case, it is Am Yisrael ONLY.


This article was written jointly by Roger Froikin and Bat-Zion Susskind

“Ki Mitziyon Tetze Torah Udvar Hashem Mirushalayim” (From Zion Shall Torah come forth and Hashem’s word from Jerusalem)

When I read about the growing gap between Jews in the Diaspora, mainly the U.S., and those in Yisrael, I am filled with a sense of loss, and great distress. Some have been unhappy about Yisrael’s policies toward the Palestinians. Recently, however, many American Jews have expressed hurt and humiliation with Yisrael’s conversion laws and other rulings by the Rabbinate.

Let us be honest, Jews have rarely been, internally, a united group. We all are familiar with the saying, “Two Jews, three opinions.” Being at odds with each other, questioning, debating and disagreeing has been part of who we were, are and forever will be.

Despite those traits, though, we have always shared one tradition and one set of guidelines about Jewish customs, dates of observances and commemorative events. It started on Mount Sinai where G-d commanded Am Yisrael to follow His laws, adhere to His Torah and set dates of the months and the years. Since Moses was the bearer of G-d’s commandments, the power to determine the interpretation of G-d’s Laws, decide when the Holy Days occur and other rulings was given to him and later to his successors, the Prophets, the Sanhedrin and the Rabbinical courts. Naturally, these decisions all originated in Eretz Yisrael, Zion where the Jewish religious authorities, past and present, have always been situated (except on a few occasions where these guidelines were still followed). Their decisions were uncontested and unchallenged.

For instance, in ancient times, the rabbis decreed that Jews in the Diaspora should celebrate Holy Days for two days. Some still do. There is a good reason behind it.

The Lunar Calendar which is what determines Jewish Holy Days was, at times, confusing. Prior to the arrival of the fixed calendar, the Sanhedrin, the Supreme Court, situated in Zion, Yerushalayim, the Spiritual center of the Jewish People would establish whether any month was 29 or 30 days depending on the first sightings of the new moon. Accordingly, if there was a Holy Day on that month, communities in Eretz Yisrael and the Diaspora would know when to celebrate and observe it.

Once the Sanhedrin found the testimonies of detection of the new moon legitimate and decreed that a new month began, the message was disseminated to distant Jewish communities outside of Eretz Yisrael via bonfires which were lit on pre-selected mountaintops. When spotted, lookout stations on other mountaintops would light their own fires to transmit the message to the Jewish communities in the Diaspora.

Unfortunately, a sect by the name of Samaritans which rejected Rabbinic authority and were opposed to their rulings started to light their own fires in an effort to manipulate the calendar and cause more confusion.

As a result and to avoid disorder, the method of communicating by fires stopped. Instead, messengers were dispatched to pass on the decree of the Rabbis to Jewish communities outside of Eretz Yisrael. Messengers were much slower than the fire lighting and resulted in confusion among distant communities concerning the precise date of the New Month. Due to the disarray surrounding the start of the new month, the Rabbis ruled that outside of Eretz Yisrael, every Holy Day should be celebrated for two days to ensure that at least one day of the observance of that Holy Day would be on the correct day.

Since the fixed calendar came into use in the 4th century CE, some may ask whether the need to keep the two days observance in the Diaspora is still relevant.

One answer is provided by Rabbi Hai Gaon who was an undisputed authority on Jewish law in the 11th century. According to him, the obligation to keep two Holy Days dates back to the days of the prophets.

And herein lies the root of what some may consider a problem. There is a general rule that once a rabbinical sanctioning has been made by the Sanhedrin and accepted by the entire Jewish people, it can be absolved only by a court in a similar prominence to the one that decreed it. However, finding nowadays a court that will equate the Sanhedrin in stature is almost impossible, let alone one that would equate with that of the prophets who were divinely inspired.

And that is but one example.

Which brings us back to the titular message. Tradition, as prescribed by the religious authorities in Tzion (Zion), has kept Judaism going for over two millennia. It is this tradition that has helped preserve us as a People that survived when many around us disappeared and forgotten. Do we wish to end up like them and enter oblivion? Do we want to re-form that which has proved to be the best form, one that withstood the storms of time, one that ensured our survival, one that has connected Jews the world over and forged us into the strong eternal entity that we are today?

Giving Credit

“Failure to accord credit to anyone for what he may have done is a great weakness in any man.”  - William Howard Taft

Without diminishing the importance of Taft’s wise words, allow me to add that failure to render credit is a weakness not only in any man but in any nation as well. It is the essence of humility, individual and national.

As a Jew, I am proud to belong to a tradition, to a heritage that has shared much with world civilization. What makes me ever more proud of it is that it never fails to give credit where and when credit is due.

This week’s Parasha (Torah portion) is a great example of it. It is entitled “Yitro,” (Jethro in Greek). Yitro is a non- Yisraelite who later becomes Moshe’s (Moses) father in law. He is a dedicated father and family man and is the governing leader of the tribes of Midian, to where Moses escapes from Egypt as a young refugee. After rescuing his daughters and their herds from hostile shepherds, grateful Yitro invites Moshe to break bread with them and offers him his daughter Tzipporah as wife (Exodus 2:21).
Following the liberation of his people from slavery in Egypt, Moshe, now a powerful and famous leader, returns to Midian where Yitro guides him on how to govern his people. Yitro advises him of the need to appoint magistrates and judges to assist him in the task of administering justice to Am Yisrael. (Exodus 18:17ff). Yitro fulfills his task as Moshe’s mentor with grace, elegance, sincerity and honesty. In return, he receives Moshe’s utmost respect and deference.

Yitro’s modesty and humility are further demonstrated in Numbers 10:29-30 where he is invited by Moshe to join Am Yisrael where he would be respected and honoured. Yitro courteously declines by entreating his responsibilities and duties to his own tribe in Midian.

Later in this week’s Parasha, we are told that the Children of Yisrael camp at the foot of mount Sinai where they are preparing to receive the Torah as G-d has chosen them to be His “kingdom of priests” and “Holy Nation.” That is where the children of Yisrael first become a Nation, Am Yisrael after they proclaim “Naaseh V’ Nishma “(we shall do all that G-d has spoken).

The giving of the Torah is, undoubtedly, the most important event in the timeline of the history of Am Yisrael and the Jewish people. It is the event that has connected our Past, Present and Future as a Nation.

When undertaking the task of dividing the Torah into fifty-two portions, our Rabbis elected to name this most important Torah portion after no other than Yirto, a Midianite, a non-Jew, an outsider.

Why, some of you may ask?

And this is where one of the greatest gifts of our Jewish nation lies, the essence of our strength. Yitro’s name was chosen precisely because our Rabbi’s followed one of the most important tenet inherent in our Jewish culture - giving credit where credit is due. Yitro, as we witnessed throughout the Parasha, was very instrumental in shaping our destiny and help us make it a reality. He provided Moshe with refuge when he escaped the hostile environment in Egypt, gave him food, shelter and coached him into becoming one of the greatest leaders Am Yisrael has ever had. His contributions to who and what we are today are immense. He is what we, Jews, call "A Righteous Gentile."

Yitro’s credit was not only given to him, it was well earned and well deserved.