Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Israel Museum: 2nd Temple Model and Dead Sea Scrolls

     Today we got back out of the classroom and headed out into Eretz Yisrael (ok, well, the Israel Museum). To start things off I mentioned that Naftali Bennet, leader of The Jewish Home political party, which predominantly represents the Modern Orthodox, suggested that he might consider giving Diaspora Jews some sort of semi-citizenship. All of the students agreed this is a really interesting suggestion (and I certainly agree). The idea could be a great way to make the state of Israel even more relevant for Am Yisrael, though it certainly carries challenges with it (I have a hard time believing I'd want a Jew living abroad to have much say in whether I get sent into a war, for example). According to the article there are currently attempts to hash out this idea. What do you think? Should all of Am Yisrael get some sort of official say in the state of Israel?
     We also spoke about this article, which contends that there is a growing trend among the Modern Orthodox to get married outside of the Rabbinate (though still according to halacha). In Israel, there are only religious weddings. There is no such thing as a civil ceremony. Among other things, this means that I, who am not Jewish according to traditional halacha (Jewish law) because my mother is not Jewish (she actually has a Jewish father, was raised Christian and underwent a Reform conversion), cannot get married in Israel unless I undergo an Orthodox conversion (on a side note I do not recommend trying to tell my mother that either she or I am not Jewish; she'll probably punch you). As you would expect secular Jews (like my fiance) and liberal Jews (like me) have long thought this is an unfair system. What's new, at least to my knowledge, is the the Modern Orthodox feeling this way.
     While it's new, perhaps it shouldn't necessarily be surprising. In the US, separation of church and state is enshrined in the Constitution. It's well known (and many of the students said it today) that a big part of the reason for this separation is to prevent religion from influencing the government. But if you look back at the discussion surrounding the issue at the time it's clear that many religious leaders felt that mixing government and religion was also bad for religion, often leading to corruption. It seems to me that this new trend among the Modern Orthodox is related to the fact that, as a political institution, the Rabbinate is often seen to be corrupt and/or ineffective (like so many religious institutions that become a part of the government).
     Returning to the historical part of our class, today I essentially told the students that Santa Claus isn't real (gasp!). We began by talking about the division within Am Yisrael after the introduction of Hellenism to the region. Much like modern day Jews in America, there were some Jews who quickly acculturated and adopted many aspects of Hellenism, while others rejected it. This, over the next few hundred years, led to the development of different political parties, partially based on how pro-Hellenism they were.
     After Alexander the Great died his empire fragmented, and by around 200 BCE Judea was controlled by the Seleucid Empire, which was based in Asia minor. Around this time Menelaus (a Jew, though you can tell from his name how pro-Hellenism he is) offered the ruler of the Seleucids, Antiochus Epiphanes (the bad guy in the Hanukkah story), a hefty sum in return for being named high priest. He also probably appealed to Antiochus's Hellenist tendencies, telling him he would help Hellenize Judea. Shortly afterward Antiochus was involved in a war in Egypt, and rumors started floating around Judea that he had died. This led to a revolt against Menelaus, Antiochus's appointee. Having been rebuffed in Egypt Antiochus returned to the revolting Judea (I imagine in a rather angry mood) and, with Menelaus's help, wreaked havoc. Then, as a punishment, Antiochus imposed of rules forcing Am Yisrael to give up Judaism, such as forbidding circumcision and forcing everyone to sacrifice to the Greek gods (avodah zarah alert!). This was unusual for the Seleucids, who in general adopted a "live and let live" policy, in which they didn't force their beliefs on the peoples over whom they ruled. Aside from simple punishment, it seems clear that Menelaus and the pro-Hellenist faction supported much of this behavior, and the following conflict may well have been as much a civil war as it was oppression from a foreign overlord.
     According to the first book of Maccabees (there's more than one) there was a family that lived in Modi'in called the Hasmoneans. The head of the family, Mattathias, was a priest, and when Antiochus's officials told him to worship foreign gods (and offered to make it worth his while to set a good example for the rest of the community) he revolted, killed the official, and he and his sons fled into the countryside. The Hasmoneans, led by one of the sons, Judah Maccabee (Judah the Hammer), led a guerrilla war against the Seleucids for three years, finally recapturing the Temple in 164 BCE. During the fighting we see that, originally the Jews aren't fighting on Shabbat, which turns out not to be a great military strategy. When Mattathias allows fighting we learn the concept of "pikuach nefesh", which tells us that you can violate virtually any commandment for the sake of saving a life (with important exceptions such as murder and defaming HaShem).
     During the fighting Am Yisrael hadn't been able to celebrate one of our most important holidays, Sukkot. So after retaking the Temple and re-dedicating it (the Hebrew word for this is Hanukkah) the Hasmoneans celebrated the holiday they had missed (which happens to last 8 days when we include the special holiday at the end of Sukkot). An oppressive Greek overlord (with some Jewish help), a revolt mostly led by Judah Maccabee, a re-dedication of the Temple, sounds a lot like the Hanukkah story to me, but as I'm sure many of you have noticed, we're missing the part about the oil lasting for eight days. With the students I explained the discrepancy shortly afterward, but here I'll leave it for the next blog (I know the suspense must be killing you).
     We then went and checked out the model of 2nd Temple Jerusalem. It's pretty awesome.

After showing them a few main features of the city I introduced them to the four different sects into which Jews of the time were divided (partially based on how accepting they were of the foreign Hellenistic culture), but I'll save that for tomorrow's blog. I then had to run off to class, but the students went on to take some excellent pictures with the Ahava (love) sign and then visited the Dead Sea Scrolls. These are the oldest extant fragments from the Tanakh, and I think many of the students were amazed to see that we have solid evidence that the text of our holy book seems to be virtually unchanged for at least 2400 years. Despite the fact that I've lived here for five years I'm still American enough that history that old amazes me, and I think the students felt the same way. 

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

The Invasion of Hellenism

     One of the current events we talked about to begin class today was a recent European leader's visit to Israel. During his speech to the the Knesset (which was predominantly pro-Israel) he mentioned a statistic someone had told him about during his visit in the West Bank; Israelis use 70 liters of water per day while Palestinians only get to use 17. While this article suggests his numbers are wrong, it agrees that Israelis use much more water per person than our Palestinian counterparts. At first glance, it seems like Israel is not being fair to the Palestinians, and that may well be part of the issue, but it's more complicated than that. The last official agreement between Israel and the Palestinian Authority was in the early 90s, when almost all of the water for both parties came from the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee) and/or aquifers. Since then the water situation has changed drastically. Israel has invested huge sums of money into both desalinization (removing the salt from ocean water to make it drinkable) and reuse of waste water. For example, Israel currently leads the world in the percentage of waste water that is treated and reused. We do this to around 75% of our water. In second place? Spain, at around 25%. The Palestinian Authority either hasn't had the resources to make this kind of investment and/or has chosen to invest their resources in different things (and probably some combination of the two).
     In the history portion of our class we'd finished talking about Shivat Tzion (the return to Tzion) and the reforms of Ezra and Nehemia to try and strengthen Am Yisrael. For the next hundred years or so (very roughly from ~440 BCE - ~340 BCE) we really didn't say much about Am Yisrael. In class I told the students we think of this period as "No news is good news." Then in the latter half of the 4th century BCE one of the most important generals in the history of the world arrived.
     Alexander the Great is one of the greatest generals who ever lived (and many would argue the greatest). He never lost a battle. He often defeated armies with 10 times more soldiers than his own armies. But he, himself, only ruled/conquered for slightly more than 10 years. His enduring legacy is the fact that he brought his culture, Hellenism, to the Middle East.
     In Jewish tradition we view Alexander the Great fondly. We tell a story that when he arrived to Israel he saw the high priest, jumped off his horse and bowed down to him. As you can imagine, this was not a general custom of the most powerful man in the world. As his entourage looked on, dumbfounded, he explained that it's the high priest's face that leads him into battle and ensures him victory. A less religious explanation for the historical fact that Jerusalem was left untouched might be that Alexander was tutored by Aristotle, a man who clearly valued education and believed in the idea of a "first cause." This is the idea that there is one, first cause behind the universe that set everything in motion and then stepped back and let things unfold. Assuming Alexander believed this as well (as seems likely), it's quite possible that upon learning about Jewish beliefs (monotheism, the importance of education, serious thought about the nature of the world) he felt at least some ideological affinity, and was positively predisposed toward us. Whatever the reason, it turned out well for Am Yisrael.
     Other aspects of Hellenism, however, were antithetical to Judaism. Consider some of these works of art (not all from Alexander's time, but representative of a Hellenistic worldview).
Discobolus

Laocoon and Sons

Winged Victory of Samothrace

Venus de Milo
     These sculptures, among other things, show how highly Hellenic culture viewed the human body. To them, it was beautiful. Another example of this viewpoint is the gymnasium, in which sports were played in the nude, so everyone could appreciate the beauty of the human form. But it wasn't just the human body Hellenism valued; it also puts a high value on the human intellect. For them, things like philosophy, math and logic were beautiful as well. For Am Yisrael, this was a serious problem. We value modesty, not the naked human body. And even in things like philosophy, in which there's some compatibility between the Jewish and Hellenistic views, the goals are very different. Hellenistic scholars want to understand the world for the sake of its beauty; Jewish scholars want to understand the world to create a just society and to grow closer to Hashem. In Hellenism beauty is holiness. In Judaism, holiness is beauty.
     It has already occurred to many of you, no doubt, that living as Am Yisrael in a dominant, alluring culture with different values (even if some of them are the same), sounds quite a bit like living in modern day America. This fact wasn't lost on the students either. We had an interesting discussion about what happens when our secular, American values and our Jewish values collide. When should our secular values determine our decisions? When should our Jewish values have the final word? Many of the students said that they often choose secular values over Jewish ones. If so, is there a line we shouldn't cross? Is there a generational pattern (ie do they think their parents/children will put more emphasis on a certain type of values?) As you can imagine it was a fascinating discussion, and some of them have already talked about it on their personal blogs. I encourage you to check them out!

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Shivat Tzion (Return to Zion)

     Having not seen the students for four days I was eager to share with them some of the current things affecting Am Yisrael. We started with a couple of pictures I took at the mall in Mevaseret, the suburb of Jerusalem right near the kibbutz where they live.
A Random Bakery
Look what they're selling at the bakery: Hamentashen!


A beit knesset next to the bathroom in the mall

The food court is already kosher for Pesach
     All of these pictures try to give an idea of what everyday life is like in a majority Jewish culture. We also mentioned a few current events. On a train in Belgium the Jews were asked to get off and shower at Auschwitz. While this is only one example, it seems clear that things in Europe are not great for Am Yisrael. We also read Natalie Portman's short piece about what Israel means to her. I also showed the students a letter sent to all Israeli parents explaining that there will be a national defense drill later this month. This year the drill will be based on rocket attacks, which, unfortunately, still affect Israel all too often (though with Iron Dome and the still-being-tested Iron Beam they do far less damage than they once did). 
     We then dove back into Jewish history with a reminder that Am Yisrael was now in Galut Bavel (the Babylonian Exile). Last week Baruch spoke to the students about some of the features that allowed Am Yisrael to stay a community while in Babylon and the first waves of shivat tzion (the return to Zion) once the Persians took control from the Babylonians. The Persians had a different imperial philosophy than the Assyrians and Babylonians; they believed in allowing each ethnic/social/religious/national group to live in its own land and worship its own god(s) so long as they were loyal Persian subjects. As you can imagine, Cyrus, the Persian ruler who originally made this decree is viewed favorably in Jewish tradition. Given this history our current discord with Iran (Persia) is particularly ironic.
     The new material today began with one of the most important characters in Jewish history: Ezra HaSofer (Ezra the Scribe). The Tanakh tells us that Ezra, a religious scholar/leader (and for those modernists out there one prominent candidate for the role of final editor of the Tanakh) in the Babylonian community receives a letter telling him that the situation in Yehuda is not good (Ezra 7). The Babylonian imperial policy was to deport the elites to Babylon, which meant that much of the population actually stayed in Yehuda. When Ezra arrives we see that this local population has mostly left Am Yisrael. They're doing avodah zarah (worshiping foreign gods) and marrying the local non-Jewish women. Ezra arrives in Yehuda and tries to strengthen the community through, among other things, forbidding intermarriage (Ezra 9). I then asked the students what they thought about this and how they felt about intermarriage, which, as we see in this story, has been a contentious issue among Jews for at least 2500 years. 
     After many of them had voiced their opinions (rather than relate them here, hopefully the students will share in the comments or in their own blogs) I showed them some of the results of the recent Pew Survey called "A Portrait of Jewish Americans." After explaining to the students that they (the students) are not a representative sample (just by being here they identify themselves as being comparatively involved, active Jews with a strong Jewish identity), I showed them the data from the recent Pew survey that shows that children of intermarriages are considerably less likely to identify as Jewish (though young people from mixed marriages are significantly more likely to identify as Jewish than older people from mixed marriages). The Pew survey is full of interesting facts about the state of modern American Jewry, and if you haven't looked at it I'd encourage you to check it out (you can also Google it and you'll find a plethora of articles analyzing the data.) Do you think Reform Judaism should allow intermarriage? Is it good/bad for Am Yisrael? Would you, personally, be willing to marry a non-Jew? Do you think you're likely to marry someone Jewish? Why or why not?
     We then jump to our next major character, Nehemia, cup-bearer to the Persian King (an important position, since it meant he was the one protecting the king from being poisoned), who likely was the highest ranking Jew at the Persian court. He, too, receives a letter expressing how dire the situation is in Yehuda, which makes it seem like Ezra's reforms weren't wholly successful. With the permission and support of the king Nehemia makes his way to Yehuda.
     Upon arriving to Yerushalayim Nehemia is shocked to find the city walls in complete disrepair. He immediately organizes the citizens to begin building them anew. The surrounding nations mock the Jews' efforts, but quickly realize we mean business, and devise a plan to attack the workers. The Jews sniff out and preempt the plan, and from that point on build the walls with their weapons at the ready. This idea of rebuilding the country in difficult conditions among a mostly unfriendly local population was a great inspiration to the chalutzim (pioneers) who moved to Israel and started rebuilding the land 130 years ago. Working around the clock Nehemia and the Jews successfully build respectable walls around Jerusalem in just 52 days.
     Having taken care of Jerusalem and the Jews' physical safety, the Tanakh then jumps back to Ezra HaSofer, and tells us how this new leadership set Am Yisrael back on the right moral/religious track. In Nehemia 8 the Tanakh tells us that Ezra takes out the Torah and reads "in the sight of all the people." This is likely the beginning of the tradition of reading the Torah in public (and the reason it's generally read on Mondays and Thursdays is because those were market days, when the most people would be present). We are also told specifically that he reads so that the people can understand, even going so far as to translate it to the vernacular, in this case, Aramaic. The Tanakh is not supposed to be something far away that we can't understand. In Devarim (Deuteronomy) we are specifically told "It is not in the sky." (Devarim 30:12) 
      The Tanakh goes on to say that Ezra opened the Torah for everyone to see it, and, in response, all of Am Yisrael stands. For those of us who have ever been present at a Torah reading this ceremony is instantly recognizable. Even today at the end of the Torah reading someone lifts up the Torah, shows it to the community and says that this is the Torah that Moshe received from Sinai. I am still amazed (and I think many of the students will agree) to find out how truly ancient many of our traditions are. (Here's a video of the ceremony if you've never seen). 
     Nehemia then makes two more rules to try and strengthen Am Yisrael. The first is that he arranges a lottery and chooses 10% of the Jews in Israel to move to Yerushalayim. The second is that he tries to enforce observance of shabbat in Yerushalayim, for example by closing the city gates to prevent trade. When I asked the students about these measures, specifically about requiring 10% of the population to live in the capital, many of them supported the idea (though they weren't thrilled that it was a requirement, rather than optional). There are clearly a number of benefits to a plan like this; for example, it strengthens Jerusalem itself, the city of David, the Jewish capital, and all of Am Yisrael's connection to it. 
     In my opinion the story of shivat tzion, while always full of lessons (it is the Tanakh after all), is especially relevant to our generation. The story of Am Yisrael returning to an Eretz Yisrael that has been neglected for years and is inhabited by often hostile non-Jews sounds an awful lot like the modern Zionist movement. When I ask the students to try and put themselves in the stories we talk about they often explain that things were so different thousands of years ago that they can't make a comparison. And while I certainly agree there are major differences, I think it's critical to try and view it as if you were there. We often judge what other people in other times should do differently from how we think about ourselves. To make that point I asked the students if any of the measures instituted by Ezra and Nehemia would be appropriate for today. For example, for those who thought requiring 10% of the population to live in Jerusalem was a reasonable requirement, do you think 10% of the American Jewish population today should be required to live in Israel? If not, why? Would it be good for Am Yisrael? What's the difference between Nehemia requiring it 2500 years ago and requiring it today? In general, do you think the various measures Ezra and Nehemia used to rebuild Am Yisrael and Eretz Yisrael were effective? Do you approve of the methods they used? Do you think they could have achieved the same results with different methods?

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Galut Bavel (The Babylonian Exile)

I wasn't there for this class because I was up north as part of my course to become a licensed tour guide. Instead, Baruch, the principal of EIE, and the best teacher I have ever had, taught in my place. Rather than try to summarize the material he covered, I'll give the students an opportunity to share their thoughts on what they learned. Was Galut Bavel necessary for Am Yisrael? What did Am Yisrael do to cope? What did it mean that Beit HaMikdash (the Temple) was destroyed? Is there anything that could happen today to Am Yisrael that might be similar? Did Galut Bavel lead to any important developments? Could/Would those developments have happened without it?

Like so much of the history that we talk about this event was so important that it's still the source of much art, such as this song, based on Psalm 137.


First Test

As I'm sure many of you who know the students have heard they just had their first test in Jewish history. This test included an essay portion in which the students had to write 2 3-4 paragraph essays. They had to choose 2 questions from these five:

1) How did “civilization” develop? Did it affect Am Yisrael? If so, how?
2) Is the Tanakh human or divine? Does that make it more/less important? Support your answer with evidence.
3) What role does teshuva play in Judaism? Give examples to support your answer.
4) What is the importance of Yerushalayim? Was/Is it necessary for the development/continuity of Am Yisrael?
5) On the very first day of class we discussed three aspects of Jewish identity. In the history we have seen so far, does this view of Jewish identity seem to fit? Why or why not? Give evidence to support your answer.

I look forward to reading their answers, which I feel confident were brilliant. Students, do you feel like any of these questions/issues affect how you think about Am Yisrael?

Divided Kingdom

     Today we started class by talking about Israel's possible future as a major energy exporter. In the last decade we've found huge reserves of natural gas in the Mediterranean and shale oil (it's also found in large quantities in North Dakota, where fracking is used to get it out of the ground) in the Elah Valley (where David fought Goliath). As you can imagine these finds have raised quite a few issues. From an environmental standpoint the shale oil might be problematic. Extracting the oil involves a complicated chemical process that involves pumping hot water and chemicals underground (though they're debating using other methods in Israel), and opponents would also argue that it will destroy the beautiful landscape. Proponents of extraction would point out that most of the action happens underground, so the effect on the landscape would be minimal. They'd also insist that there's no evidence that it causes environmental damage. The truth is that it's a very new technology and no one really knows much about what the long terms effects will be. For now Israel is doing tests and research.
     Putting the environmental issues aside for a moment, these two finds have enormous economic potential. One of the biggest economic problems in Israel is the high cost of living, and an abundance of cheap energy would certainly go a long way toward alleviating that problem. On the other hand, overly cheap energy would encourage overuse (people probably drove more than they should have when gas was 98 cents a gallon), and when the cheap energy runs out, as it inevitably does eventually, any industry based on cheap energy is in serious trouble. Another option is to export the energy. Assuming we can find a better way to transport natural gas (currently you have to make it REALLY cold to liquify it, and then ship it, which is expensive), there are several problems. The first is known as Dutch disease. If foreigners want to buy our energy, first they'll have to exchange their currency for shekels. If this happens a lot the demand for shekels goes up, which causes the shekel to become more valuable. Basically if lots of people want something it becomes more expensive; this is true for physical goods as well as currencies. If the shekel becomes more valuable (for example, imagine an exchange rate of two shekels to the dollar) it means Israelis can buy foreign goods more cheaply (woo hoo!). The $100 American TV would now cost 200 shekels, rather than the 400 it costs with a four to one exchange rate. However, this means the exact opposite is the case for Israeli exports. Anything made in Israel would cost significantly more, meaning less people would buy from Israel (not so woo hoo).
     The other major problem with exporting energy is to decide where to export it. One obvious answer is Europe, which is wealthy and energy-poor. However, much of their current energy comes from Russia, who would not be thrilled to see their market share reduced by an energy-exporting Israel. The other main option is to send it east, to China for example. But this entails getting it from the Mediterranean Sea down to Eilat (Israel's southernmost city), no easy task. After that it would have to pass through the Straits of Tiran, a narrow waterway between Egypt and Saudi Arabia, not exactly Israel's best friends. In fact, there have been multiple instances in our history in which Egypt has blockaded the straits (and it only took one gun!), though, Baruch Hashem, not for many years. As you can see these recently discovered natural resources have great potential, but also create their share of problems. How do you think Israel should handle it?
     Jumping back in time 3000 years you'll recall that we'd arrived to the end of the reign of Shlomo HaMelech (King Solmon). Before his death an Israelite named Jerobaum was unhappy with Shlomo's rule, attempted some sort of revolt, and then fled to Egypt. When Shlomo died Jerobaum returned and went to speak with Shlomo's heir, Rehobaum. Jerobaum asked him to lighten the tax burden (if you recall Shlomo required a great deal from the Israelites both to build the Temple and his palace), promising eternal support if Rehobaum would only make things a little bit easier for the people. Rehobaum seeks the advice of the elders, who encourage him to accede to Jerobaum's request. Rehobaum then consults his young friends (I like to think of them as the rich kids who's parents never told them "no") who disagree with the elders, advising Rehobaum to tell Jerobaum "My little finger is thicker than my father's loins. My father imposed a heavy yoke on you, and I will add to your yoke; my father flogged you with whips, but I will flog you with scorpions." (1 Kings 12:10-11, JPS translation) Unfortunately, Rehobaum, the new king, who should be trying to consolidate his rule takes the advice of his young friends. Great politician, huh?
     Obviously, Jerobaum can't accept this, and the 10 tribes of the north secede (~930 BCE) to form the Kingdom of Israel, leaving Rehobaum in charge of the Kingdom of Yehuda. At this point several prophecies have come true. Shmuel, when the Israelites originally asked for a king, warned them how oppressive a king would be. Hashem, in response to Shlomo's avodah zara (worship of foreign gods) tells him that his descendants will rule over only one tribe. We see here that both of those things have now come true. From now on there will be two Jewish states: Israel in the north and Yehuda in the south. After the split the two kingdoms spend several decades fighting each other before arriving at some sort of peace agreement. 
After Shlomo there are two Jewish states: Israel in the north and Yehuda in the south
     According to the Tanakh the kingdom of Israel quickly deteriorates into avodah zarah (worship of foreign gods). In class, for example we spoke about King Ahab and his Phoenician wife Jezebel, who persecute those who worship Hashem (the story begins toward the end of the first book of Kings, 1 Kings 18 will give you the idea). It is during this period that the later prophets, such as Eliyahu HaNavi (Elijah the prophet), become active. The early prophets, such as Shmuel (Samuel) and Natan (Nathan), were part of the leadership structure. In modern terms they provided a sort of balance of power to the kings Shaul (Saul) and David respectively. The later prophets are decidedly outside the government. Eliyahu, as is typical of the later prophets, is actually pursued by Ahab and (especially) Jezebel, who want to kill him in retribution for killing the prophets of Jezebel's foreign gods. We also looked briefly at the episode after Eliyahu flees, in which he is hiding in a cave and Hashem tells him that there will be no more large demonstrations of power (Hashem had just publicly helped Eliyahu prove that Hashem is the one and only God), but Hashem will now be a "soft murmuring sound" (also translated as "a still, small voice", if you want to see the Hebrew it's 1 Kings 19:12). This seems to answer the often asked question, "Why are there no more miracles like we see in the Tanakh?" Do you think Hashem decided to influence the world in a different way, stop actively influencing it completely, or was this simply added later to explain away the problem?
     As we would expect the Kingdom of Israel, who is doing avodah zarah, is eventually punished. The mechanism for their punishment in this case is the Assyrians, a Mesopotamia-based empire who have a resurgence around 800 BCE.


     In 722 BCE the Assyrians conquer Israel. Many of the citizens of Israel were deported, in line with Assyrian imperial policy. This destruction and subsequent deportation led to what is known as the 10 lost tribes. As with any area in which there's a war there would certainly have been many people who chose to flee, some of them (if not most) to their southern neighbor, the Kingdom of Judah. As further proof for this phenomenon there is archaeological and historical evidence that the King of Judah at the time, Hezekiah, enlarged the walls of Yerushalayim considerably (the large square-ish part in the picture below), likely in part to accommodate the refugees.

The original city of David (right) and Hezekiah's Wall (left)
     20 years later Hezekiah decided to take advantage of unrest in Mesopotamia (the Assyrian homeland) to throw off the Assyrian yoke and declare independence. Among his preparations he improved the water tunnel to the Gihon spring, which you can see in the picture above. The Assyrians, after dealing with the unrest, arrived to Yehuda and devastated the entire country (such as we see in Lachish, for example). Having destroyed the rest of the country they arrive in 701 BCE to Yerushalayim, which they put to siege (I've recommended to the students several times to read about what it's like to be under siege, for example the relatively recent Siege of Leningrad, to get a sense of how scary and terrible it is). According to the Tanakh Hashem killed thousands of Assyrian soldiers, causing them to lift the siege and flee back to Mesopotamia. Other sources claim a plague ravaged the Assyrian ranks. Yet others say they left to, once again, deal with unrest in the homeland. All the sources agree Yerushalayim was saved. You can imagine the euphoria in the city as the Assyrians left. 
     One consequence of the "miraculous" departure of the Assyrian army is that the Yehudans came to believe that Hashem would never allow Yerushalayim, the holy city, to be conquered. Just over a hundred years later the Babylonians (also based in Mesopotamia) were the major power in the region. The King of Yehuda at this time decided to ally with the Egyptians against the Babylonians. It turns out he bet wrong. The ascendant Babylonians arrived to Yehuda and began a siege of Yerushalayim. Despite the prophet Jeremiah's cries to repent and warnings that Yerushalayim would be handed over to the Babylonian army, the King of Yehuda held firm, buoyed by the promises of false prophets (according to the Tanakh, I don't expect I could tell whether a prophet is true or false) and no doubt the memory of the miracle that saved Yerushalayim from the Assyrians. On the ninth of Av (a Hebrew month) the Babylonians destroyed Beit HaMikdash (the Temple); since then this has been a day of mourning for Am Yisrael (Tisha b'Av, the ninth of Av). The elites of Yehuda are sent in exile to Babylon, and after ~600 years living in our homeland in Eretz Yisrael we are sent into Galut Bavel (the Babylonian Exile). 
      Do you think Am Yisrael deserved this punishment? Is it divine? Is it simply the whim of history? If you heard this about another people, would you expect them to still be around thousands of years later?

Friday, February 14, 2014

Shlomo HaMelech (King Solomon)

     Once again I'm sorry to say I don't recall which current events we talked about to begin class, but here's an excellent article by Thomas Friedman about the peace process and Israel's future. Also, the glorious madrichim (counselors) made a playlist of Israeli music for the students. Seriously, it's awesome. Check it out. 
     After two awesome days on tiyul we finally got back to the classroom. We'd left off our story talking about David HaMelech (King David), his accomplishments, his enduring importance, and, ultimately, his imperfections, especially the incident with Bathsheva. As part of his punishment for this behavior, we're told that David's house will be in constant turmoil, and this turns out to be the case. After revolts by his two oldest sons (Absalom and Adonijah, by custom/tradition/law the ones who should have taken over the kingship) eventually Shlomo (Solomon), his third eldest son (whose mother is Bathsheva) becomes king.
     Shlomo, like his father David, has some impressive accomplishments on his record. His wisdom is renowned to this day. Almost any westerner can recall Shlomo's judgement in the story about the two mothers arguing over the baby. The Tanakh tells us that when granted one wish by Hashem, rather than riches or power or longevity, Shlomo asks to be a discerning judge (1 Kings 3:4). He's also known as a peaceful king. (On the one hand, a lovely trait, on the other, his two warlike predecessors might deserve some credit for mostly subduing the surrounding nations.) For these reasons and others it is Shlomo who gets to build Beit HaMikdash (the Temple). The Tanakh explains in detail exactly how it was built (It took seven years!) Here's one rendering of what it might have looked like according to the Tanakh:

     To build the Temple we are told that Shlomo conscripts the Israelites as laborers. When we talked about this in class the students had mixed opinions. Some pointed out that this is exactly the sort of thing Shmuel (Samuel) had warned the Israelites about when we demanded a king. Others said that the Temple would have more meaning because everyone participates in building it. Yet others agreed that building it as an Am was important, but wished Shlomo could have gone about it in a more diplomatic way (or maybe he did and the Tanakh simply doesn't include the details).
     Around this time (~1000 BCE is when Saul, David and Shlomo rule) it seems like the Jewish state reached the peak of its powers. As we've spoken about multiple times the traditional power centers in the Middle East are Mesopotamia (home of the Akkadians, Assyrians, Babylonians, et al.) and Egypt (and a bit later Asia Minor). A historical/scientific/rational explanation for the rise of the Jewish state during this time is that the Late Bronze Age Collapse weakened the traditional power centers, leaving a vacuum that we filled. A more traditional explanation is some combination of good, moral behavior by the Israelites together with a leadership that was more or less responsive to Hashem's will. As is often the case my guess is that the truth is some combination of the two.
     At any rate the Tanakh offers several hints that Shlomo is the head of a powerful kingdom. For example, he's allied with the Phoenicians, a group living on what is today the Lebanese coast, renowned for their maritime activities (which makes sense historically, since Israel likely had a strong military presence on the ground, but little on the sea). We are also told that he has hundreds of wives, including one of Pharaoh's daughters. Also, the Tanakh says that dignitaries came from far and wide, seeking out Shlomo's wisdom. A particularly famous example is the Queen of Sheba, an African queen whose visit with Shlomo may have resulted in the Ethiopian Jews, only "discovered" in modern times (definitely a theory and not an established fact). Here's a map of the kingdom (in one of history's many ironies the kingdom was much larger than the current state, but the areas where the majority of the Israeli population lives today wasn't under Jewish sovereignty):


     As you may well be expecting given the chronicle of our Jewish heroes so far, Shlomo, too, has his faults. While he devotes seven years to building Beit HaMikdash he spends even longer building his own palace. Even worse, he allows his plethora of wives to lead him into avodah zarah (worshiping foreign gods). As a result of these indiscretions Hashem tells Shlomo that he will "tear the kingdom away" from him (1 Kings 11:11), leaving only one tribe in the possession of his family (the tribe of Yehuda we see later). After Shlomo's reign it's downhill for Am Yisrael for a while (at least according to the Tanakh), but I'll save that for the next blog.
     Do you think Shlomo deserved to build Beit HaMikdash? Was it right/fair to force the Israelites to build it? Can you reconcile Shlomo's unparalleled wisdom with his decision to worship foreign gods? Is this an instance of power corrupting or something else? Should the fact that Shlomo controlled such a large territory influence the peace negotiations today? 

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Jerusalem and the United Monarchy

As you may have noticed I've fallen a bit behind with the blog posts (yes, I could write less, as several people have suggested, but I already feel like I leave out so much!) with the result that I don't really remember which current event we started with on our tiyul. So, here's a pretty picture of the students at the tayelet, our first stop, to distract you.
View of Jerusalem from the tayelet
A few things about this picture. First, sorry, Amit, the half of your face that I succeeded in capturing in any of these looks really awesome. Second, how did no one tap Aaron on the shoulder and tell him to turn around?! Third, I really like that Google does these gifs for me automatically, but I probably should consider posting less of them (feel free to let me know if you like them or not).

Ok, Jewish history! When last we left Am Yisrael we had conquered the land, changed from a nomadic society to a settled one, and gone through the Judges cycle. Today we began class talking about the end of the cycle, in which the tribe of Benjamin behaves in a terrible way (It's more R-rated than I'd care to be here, you can check it out in Judges 19 if you're interested). This continued deterioration in our moral behavior, along with our ongoing battles with our arch-enemies the Philistines, led the Israelites to ask for a king. Shmuel (Samuel), the prophet at the time, is angry at the Israelites; Hashem, he points out, is supposed to be our only king. He warns us against the things that kings do (and dictators do even today): impose heavy taxes, conscript whomever he needs into his army, etc. But Hashem tells him it's ok, that the Israelites are revolting against Hashem and not against him (Shmuel), and we get our first king.

Shaul (Saul) is from the tribe of Benjamin, the smallest tribe (likely connected to the fact that Benjamin was the youngest brother), which, at first may seem illogical. But often when communities choose a ruler, the other nobles, who are generally the ones doing the choosing, often choose a weak leader so that they maintain as much power as possible for themselves. In the beginning Shaul is an excellent king, leading the Israelites in battle and establishing order among the 12 tribes. Eventually, however, he begins to ignore Hashem and follow his own whims (for example rather than destroying the property of an enemy, as Hashem commands him, he keeps some for himself). We clearly see how vainglorious he becomes after David, who Shaul doesn't yet know will be the next king, kills Goliath. The people begin to sing "Shaul has killed his thousands, while David has killed his tens of thousands," which eventually leads Shaul to try and kill David out of jealousy. As you can imagine, Hashem is not thrilled with this behavior, and Shaul eventually dies in battle against the Philistines.

His successor, David HaMelech (King David), is one of the most important people in Jewish history (and maybe even Western history in general). David is from the tribe of Yehuda, the biggest and strongest of the tribes, and when we first meet him he's still a child, the youngest of his brothers. When Shmuel (the prophet Samuel, mentioned above) is told to go to David's family's house David's father doesn't even think to present David, his youngest son who is out tending the animals. Shortly after Shmuel anoints David, signifying that he will be the next king, Shaul, who's already on Hashem's bad side, begins to have nightmares. And, wouldn't you know it, who do they find to come play the harp to soothe him but David HaMelech (who, according to tradition, used his talents to compose the book of Tehillim, or Psalms), who we know is going to be the next king. Once again we see that the Tanakh is constructed like any excellent piece of literature; David, the king to be, becomes a favorite of Shaul, the king who's already on his way out. Fifty Shades of Grey's (or Pride and Prejudice for my parents) got nothin on the Tanakh!

Next, we meet the Philistine giant Goliath, who's taunting the Israelites and challenging us to send our fiercest warrior out to face him in single combat. None of the Israelites is up to the challenge. Enter young David, who's only at the front to bring his now-soldier brothers some food from home. When he brazenly decides to accept Goliath's challenge Shaul tries to give David his sword and armor, but David is so small that he can barely hold it, let alone use it, and so he goes out to face the renowned warrior with nothing but a slingshot and a whole lot of chutzpah. As I'm sure most of you know he succeeds in killing Goliath, making him quite the celebrity among the Israelites (for better and for worse, as mentioned above). Eventually, once Shaul dies, David becomes king, and makes his capital in Hevron (something to think about when we talk about the current negotiations with the Palestinians), in Yehuda, his own tribe. Eventually, wanting to unite the 12 tribes, he moves his capital to Yerushalayim (Jerusalem).

In class we've spoken a few times about the 4 Ds we look for in any ancient settlement: dinner (food), dollar (trade), defense and drink (water). Jerusalem is near fertile land and the Gihon spring, which covers two of the four. It's close to Derekh HaHar, the mountain highway, a much less important road than Derekh HaYam (the coastal highway), though not on it. So there's some trade, but probably not as much as there would have been at a place like Gezer. And while it's surrounded by valleys (we mentioned the Kidron Valley and Gai Ben Hinom Valley), the nearby mountains are considerably higher, making it less than optimal for defense purposes. Why, then, did David choose Yerushalayim? I've hinted at the first (and, in my opinion, most important) reason above, which is its politically important location on the border between two tribes. Similar to the early Americans' choice to make Washington D.C. our capital, David HaMelech didn't want his capital city to belong to any one tribe (What, you thought Americans were the first to have that idea?). Also, like D.C. (at least originally), Yerushalayim is in a relatively central location, making it more convenient to rule over all 12 tribes. The other reason David chose Yerushalayim is its religious importance; the site where Beit HaMikdash (the Temple) eventually stood (though not during David's reign) is where tradition says Avraham almost sacrificed Yitzhak. Whatever the reasons David is the one who turned Yerushalayim into a Jewish capital, and it has been the spiritual center of Am Yisrael ever since.

But even David isn't perfect. One day he sees Batsheva (who is married) bathing on her roof, falls in love with her (that's the nicest way to put it), and invites her to spend some quality time with him at the palace. Fearing that his indiscretion will become known he arranges for her soldier husband to come home from the front for a quick visit, expecting him to enjoy the comforts of home (including his wife), providing a proper reason for her pregnancy. Unfortunately for David, her husband is such a good man that he can't imagine being at home while his fellow soldiers are out in the field, and so he sleeps outside the palace. The next night David gets him drunk, certain this will lead him home to his wife, but again he refuses. Finally, David tells his commander to send him into battle where the fighting is most intense, and just as David had intended, Bathseva's husband dies in battle, and David takes Batsheva as one of his wives.

Not longer after this terrible incident Natan, David's prophet (both Shaul and David had prophets who were part of the leadership structure, providing something that today we might call a system of checks and balances), to report on an incident in the kingdom. Natan tells him that a traveler arrived to a town and requested a meal from a wealthy man with many animals. The wealthy man, not satisfied with his wealth, went and took the only sheep of a poor man. David, enraged, demands that this wealthy man be put to death, to which Natan replies, "That man is you!" David HaMelech, like all Jewish heroes, is imperfect. Due to the incident with Bathseva he is punished severely. He must constantly be at war (which he is, mostly with the Philistines). The child Batsheva is carrying will die. His sons will revolt against him (Absalom and Adonijah both do). And, perhaps most importantly, he is not allowed to build Beit HaMikdash (the Temple).

Despite his moral failing in the Bathsheva incident we remember David HaMelech as a great king. Those taking a modern view of the Tanakh might say that part of this legacy comes from the fact that he's from the tribe of Yehuda, the last tribe standing (as we'll see tomorrow). It's certainly possible that later Yehudan author(s)/editor(s) changed the story. I, personally, find that an insufficient explanation. Thousands of years later his fame endures both in the common use of his name and as inspiration for various forms of art, two of which you'll find below.


Does Yerushalayim carry special significance to the Jewish people? Was it just a politically convenient place to build a capital? Do its origins matter? Does David HaMelech deserve the adoration he receives? Was he just another king?

Monday, February 10, 2014

Sataf: From Wandering to the Promised Land

As usual we started today by talking about a couple of current issues affecting Am Yisrael one way or another. The first is the change that has happened in Turkey over the past several years. Asia Minor is one of the areas in the Middle East that has traditionally been a major center of power (along with Mesopotamia and Egypt), and while the end of the Ottoman Empire after World War I decreased the area's importance, it would be shortsighted to assume it won't one day return to its traditional place of prominence. For many years Israel and Turkey cooperated quite closely, especially in military matters. Most of the Middle East is Sunni Muslim, and Israel has tended to have good relationships with any state that doesn't fit that description (e.g. Turkey and Iran, ironically enough). Since Erdogan, the current Prime Minister, came to power, however, Turkey has taken a sharp turn toward Islam (obviously his time as Prime Minister is not the only factor, but it's certainly a major one), and this has led to a less collegial relationship between us. Whether or not this is likely to be our future relationship with Turkey is an important question for Israel.
We also briefly mentioned this article in which a prominent Knesset member refers to Reform Judaism (the high school for whom I work is part of the Reform Movement) as "not Judaism" and "another religion." As you can imagine this is a major problem for those of who are associated with the Reform Movement. While this denigration of liberal Judaism isn't unusual in Israel (the joke in Israel is "the shul I don't go to is Orthodox"), this instance is particularly egregious since the Knesset member chairs a committee that deals with questions such as "Who is a Jew?". This is an issue we'll talk much more about when we talk about what it means to have a Jewish state.
After these less-than-optimistic current events we spent the rest of the day walking around the beautiful Sataf. Obviously we had to start the day with some pictures:
After current events the first thing we talk about when on tiyul is where we are. Today, as you may have surmised from the title, we were at Sataf. You can see mountains behind the students, but what you can't see is the nahal (dry river) below them. This nahal is called Nahal Sorek, and if you open your Tanakh you'll see that this is where Delilah (of Samson and Delilah fame) lived. To this day it blows my mind to be able to read about a site where I'm currently standing and see that it's the same place that's mentioned in the Tanakh. I'm pretty sure the students felt the same way. (I think this is especially true for Americans where "old" can mean a couple hundred years rather than a few thousand, the norm in Israel)
Jumping back into history we began our day by talking about one of the seminal events in Jewish History: Matan Torah (the giving of the Torah). As we mentioned in previous classes one of the most important parts of this episode is the fact that Hashem appears before all of Am Yisrael. This is in stark contrast to other religions, such as Islam and Christianity, in which God passes his message to one central figure (e.g. Mohammed or Jesus) who then passes it along to the masses. In my opinion this makes it much harder to simply deny the truth of the Tanakh by pointing out logical inconsistencies or scientific impossibilities (though I, myself, still certainly have lots of unanswered questions). It is also a tradition in Judaism that all Jews--living, dead, converts, everyone--were at Mt. Sinai. One of the other teachers here often tells the story of a shabbat dinner he went to with a family in Israel. He'd never met them before, but when he showed up at the door the man who answered told him that he looked familiar. Our teacher, trying to be polite, explained that he was really pretty sure that they'd never met, to which the man responded "I think I might have stood near you at Mt. Sinai". Whether you believe in the literal truth of this tradition or not I think it's a lovely idea that ALL of Am Yisrael received Torah from Sinai.
Having received the Torah we (Am Yisrael) headed for the promised land. Those of you familiar with the Tanakh are no doubt thinking to yourselves that I skipped a major part of the story. What about the 40 years of wandering? Actually, Am Yisrael went straight to Canaan. When we arrived we sent in 12 spies (one from each tribe) to check out the land. They sent back glowing reports of the land's fecundity. But, according to the spies, the land was inhabited by giants, and they were far too numerous to be defeated. Of the 12 only two were willing to trust Hashem and enter the land: Caleb and Joshua. While it's easy to judge people who specifically defy Hashem's will (though, seriously, how often do each of us really do what we think Hashem would want in our day-to-day lives?) we have to remember that this was an entire generation brought up as slaves. Not only were they slaves, but all of Am Yisrael had been nothing but slaves for generations. Perhaps this is why Moshe, who was never a slave, was able to lead Am Yisrael out of Mitzrayim (Egypt). At any rate Hashem realizes this generation isn't capable of conquering the land and so he sends them out to wander in the desert for 40 years until the entire generation dies off. The only member of the slave generation who's going to get to see the promised land? Joshua.
We do our time out in the desert (with more than a little bit of whining) and finally after 40 years we come back to Canaan and our ready to cross into the land. But there's still one person with us who's not allowed to enter the promised land: Moshe. Hashem doesn't allow him to enter Canaan and sends him off to die alone on a mountain. Tough deal for Moshe. The text explains that this is punishment for an incident in the desert in which Hashem told Moshe to ask a rock for water but instead Moshe hit the rock. Another explanation purports that this is Moshe's punishment for killing an Egyptian (which he does when he sees the Egyptian beating a Hebrew slave). In either case this seems like a pretty harsh punishment. Moshe has not only been a faithful servant for the majority of his life, but he did it while putting up with 40 years of kvetching Jews! In my opinion a more compelling reason is that Hashem didn't want our ancestors to become the people of Moshe. Moshe led us out of Egypt, received the Torah and brought us to the holy land. It's easy to imagine the people starting to revere him as more than human. To prevent that from happening Hashem has Moshe pass the leadership to Yehoshua (Joshua) before Am Yisrael enters the promised land. This also explains why the text specifically says that we don't know where Moshe is buried; Hashem/the authors didn't want Moshe's grave to turn into a shrine. (I also like to believe that after Am Yisrael had gone into the promised land Hashem let Moshe go in and check it out, too, but there's no evidence for that.)
In the Tanakh the next part of the story is fairly straightforward; Am Yisrael, led by Yehoshua, enter and conquer the land in Israel. Unfortunately, there's no archaeological evidence that corroborates this story (which could, of course, just mean that we haven't found in yet). Recently other scholars have proposed that it was more of a social revolution. The Hebrews were a semi-nomadic group living on the edges of civilization who, for whatever reason (perhaps a drought or some other calamity), slowly became part of the Canaanite cities. Perhaps, as the Hebrews became part of the cities the Canaanites gradually adopted their monotheistic ways.
Whatever your view one way or another Am Yisrael now goes through a drastic change. We are no longer wandering, but have a land of our own, and, on the whole, we settle down and become farmers. This entails massive changes throughout Israelite society. For example, an agricultural society will require different rules for social justice. In Leviticus 19:9 for example we learn that we're required to leave part of the harvest for the poor and the stranger (the corners of the field, for example). This is a mitzvah (commandment) that only makes sense within the context of an agricultural society. Now that we're working the fields, the Tanakh also tells us what sorts of crops we'll find in Israel, specifically mentioning the seven species (among others).
Having moved into an already-inhabited land, much of the fertile land in the valleys was already taken, and so much (if not most) of Am Yisrael's farming happens on the hillside. This requires terrace farming, which turns a hill into a series of steps, and was developed independently in several places throughout the world (like writing). Here's what it looks like at Sataf:
Olive trees growing on terraces at Sataf
Eitan and Shoshana on the "hanging stairs" used to save space for crops

Once we were settled in the land of Israel we were faced with new challenges, such as having to live among neighboring populations. This is problematic in at least two ways. First, it means we're now faced with other seductive religious and cultural ideas (a problem I imagine most modern-day Jews understand all too well). Second, the second you're established in an area that has natural resources (such as good farmland) you're likely to face neighbors who want to take it. We see both of these problems in the next stage of Jewish history, which is called the Judges cycle (The main heroes are judges and it takes place in the book of Judges. creative naming, huh?). Am Yisrael is seduced by foreign gods (avodah zarah), Hashem uses one of our neighbors to punish us (Hashem lets them conquer us/defeat us in battle), Hashem feels bad for our suffering and sends a judge to redeem us both physically and spiritually. We mentioned one specific judge, Devorah, whose story is representative of this cycle. Also, she obviously stands out because she's a female, unlike most of our heroes thus far (Debbie Friedman also wrote a song about her.)
Saving the best for last we went searching for the most critical thing at any Middle Eastern settlement: water. Eventually we found (ok I led us to it) the pool of water that the farmers used to irrigate the lower half of the hill. We imagined ourselves as ancient Hebrew who see a trickle of water emerging from the mountains and went searching for its source. In our case, rather than dig back into the mountain, we simply followed the thousands of years old tunnel back to the source of the spring, deep within the mountains. 
Rachel crawling out of a water channel
There, we turned our flashlights off and marveled at the utter silence. We also sang "hinei mah tov" together in the darkness, which I hope was as spiritual an experience for the students as it was for me. Knowing how excited the students were to get back to their general studies classes (ok, maybe not THAT excited) I led them down the mountain to the bus.
stairs leaving Sataf



Friday, February 7, 2014

Yosef and Slavery

Today we started class by looking at this article, which explains a court ruling mandating that the government reduce funding for yeshiva students who fail to show up for their draft summons. One of the major issues in Israel today is the divide between the ultra-orthodox, who predominantly don't serve in the army, don't work and believe that the state of Israel is illegitimate (there are, of course, exceptions, and there are a myriad of sects within the ultra-orthodox community), and the rest of population. If, in 1948 when Israel was founded, it was reasonable (in my opinion) for the Jewish state to financially support a few hundred students studying in yeshiva, today, with tens of thousands, it is wildly impractical. Also, the fact that they mostly don't serve in the army is very frustrating for those of us who do (myself included).
A member of the ultra-orthodox community might respond to this by saying that it's not the army that protects the Jewish state, but studying Torah and living a strictly ultra-orthodox life. While I understand that point, that the survival of Am Yisrael is not only a physical question, Pirkei Avot (the sayings of the fathers) teaches us that "If there is no sustenance, there is no Torah". It seems a little unfair that I (and the rest of the non-ultra-orthodox community) have to worry about the sustenance part while they get to worry about the Torah part. I would have gladly traded a few nights sleeping on the ground in the desert for some time studying in yeshiva. Our ultra-orthodox spokesman might add that calling Israel a Jewish state is a joke, since its not based on halakha (Jewish law) and ws not brought about by the Messiah, and so there's no reason he should accept the legitimacy of the state.
We then opened our Tanakh and began the story of Yosef (Joseph). Like his father, Ya'akov, Yosef was kind of a brat as a kid. He has several dreams that imply that he will rule of the rest of his family, which he eagerly shares with older brothers (seems like a great plan, huh?). And as theater lovers will no doubt recall, his father gave him a special, beautiful coat, which I'm guessing didn't make him any less pretentious. His brothers, not exactly a model of appropriate behavior themselves, decide to kill their younger brother before compromising and selling him into slavery. The Tankh tells us that Yosef was taken as a slave to Egypt (fade out).
The next scene opens with one of Yosef's older brothers, Yehuda (Judah), who is particularly important to us since it's from him we are all descended (hence the word "Jewish", which comes from his name). We learn that one of Yehuda's sons marries a woman named Tamar and then dies. In that society being a widow meant that you had very few rights in society, so to rectify this there was a rule that the deceased's brother had to marry the widowed woman. As he should, Yehuda's second son marries Tamar, but rather than doing his part to provide her with children (who would still officially be considered her first husband's) he "spills his seed." This gives rise to an interesting verb in Hebrew, which I'll leave it to you to look up if you're curious about some of the racier parts of the Tanakh (the sons name is Onan). Hashem is unhappy with this behavior and he, too, dies. Yehuda, having lost two sons that were married to Tamar, isn't eager to marry his third son to her, so he tells her that the son is too young. Eventually, Tamar realizes that Yehuda isn't planning on fulfilling his obligation to her. She dresses up as a prostitute and sleeps with Yehuda, who leaves his staff with her as a promise of payment. When Yehuda sends payment Tamar has shed her disguise and no one can find her. A few months later Yehuda hears reports that Tamar is pregnant and orders her killed. At that point she pulls out his staff and Yehuda realizes the error of his ways, repents and admits that Tamar is in the right. Here, again, we see the concept of teshuva displayed. Yehuda doesn't behave well, but he's able to see the error of his ways and change. As the story of Yosef continues Yehuda takes on a prominent role representing the family and protecting the youngest brother.
The Tanakh then jumps back to the story of Yosef, who has been sold into slavery in Egypt. Like any good piece of literature, the story of Yosef is full of ups and downs. He's the favorite child, but then he's sold into slavery. He becomes the head slave, in charge of the whole estate, but then is falsely accused of attempting to rape the master's wife and is sent to prison. He is promoted to a high position among the prisoners, interprets dreams for important prisoners who promise to help him, but is then forgotten for two years. Finally, Pharaoh has a dream that no one can interpret and the ex-prisoner remembers Yosef. Yosef interprets the dream, which says there will be seven years of plenty followed by seven years of famine, and so impresses Pharaoh that he is appointed to organize Egypt's grain supply throughout these difficult years.
Throughout his travails Yosef does a couple of interesting things. First, he never takes any credit for his success, instead giving Hashem all the credit. We see here, again, the process of teshuva so many Jewish heroes undergo. He also refers to himself (and is referred to by others) as a Hebrew. The word Hebrew in the Hebrew language comes from the verb "to pass", "to cross" or "to traverse". You'd use it, for example, to say "I'm moving from one apartment to the other." Language is a carrier of culture (Inuit language has dozens of words for snow; Hebrew has many words for desert.). Here, in the Hebrew language, we see the connection to Am Yisrael's historical roots as nomads.
After summarizing Yosef's life to that point I asked the students if his story--going from a slave to jail to second most important man in Egypt--seemed reasonable. The majority of the students said "no" (a very fair answer, in my opinion). I then explained to them that around the time we think this story was taking place (around 1600 BCE) Egypt seems to have been under control of a foreign people called the Hyksos. The Hyksos were likely a semi-nomadic Semitic people (like the Hebrews). If so, this makes the story of Yosef make much more sense. Perhaps the Hyksos Pharaoh identified with Yosef. Perhaps they spoke a common language or shared common customs. Perhaps they even knew people in common. Perhaps the Hyksos arrived, took control, and eventually developed a myth about how they arrived that turned into the story of Yosef. Regardless, this is another example of how we can look at the wider context to try and understand what's going on in the Tanakh.
Eventually Yosef's family comes to Egypt and there's a drama-filled reunion (Yosef meets them without revealing himself, accuses them of being spies, asks about his father, and finally breaks down, it's really good, you should read it). During their interview before Yosef has revealed himself we see Yehuda (of earlier Tamar fame) take on a leadership role. He speaks on behalf of the family, and when Yosef threatens to imprison Benjamin, the youngest brother and Ya'akov's favorite (since he believes Yosef to be dead), Yehuda begs him not to and volunteers to take his place. Depending on your perspective we see here either further proof of Yehuda's maturation and the reason we Jews have his name or the rewriting of the text to reflect the viewpoint of the tribe of Yehuda, the only one to survive.
From a plot perspective one of the main points behind the Yosef story is that it brings Am Yisrael down to Egypt. After Yosef's death we are told "A new king arose over Egypt who did not know Yosef." This is bad news for the Jews. Fortunately for Am Yisrael we were blessed with a leader who was up to the task: Moshe Rabbenu (Moses). For a change of pace, rather than opening our Tanakhs and reading the story together I divided the students up and had them act out some of the major scenes of Moshe's life and our time in Egypt. Here are some of the results:


Though I admit it was a little harder to focus after the skits, we talked a bit about Moshe. He was an unwilling hero, always telling Hashem he didn't think he was the right man for the job. And in the beginning, he merely caused Pharaoh to give the Hebrews more work, which you can imagine didn't endear Moshe to them. We then briefly spoke about the plauges. Some of them, like turning the Nile into blood, were likely even more powerful demonstrations to the Egyptians than they seem to us today. This river, the center of the Egyptian world, was what gave everything life. Moshe then turns it into the embodiment of death. Also, in a polytheistic society such as Egypt, the Nile was considered a god, so its transformation also symbolizes the victory of the Hebrew God, Hashem, over the Egyptian god.
I also explained that for people who understand the Tanakh as being in accordance with the modern understanding of science there are a plethora of explanations for the plagues. For example, a volcano eruption several hundred miles away could have spewed ash into the air, causing the plague of darkness. I even showed them a video of locusts and told them that less than a year ago there actually was a swarm of locusts in Egypt (and right around Pesach/Passover!). Do you think the plagues could have actually happened? Does it matter? Why do you think Moshe was chosen to lead the Hebrews out of slavery? As far as we know from the text he'd barely even met another Hebrew! Why do you think we get our name from Yehuda? Do you think he and/or Yosef do teshuva?  

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Yitzchak and Ya'akov

Today we started class by looking at two fascinating articles. The first is a letter from EIE alum Yoav Schafer (and Sara Greenberg, who as far as I know is not an EIE alum, but I suppose it’s possible there are people who have done EIE that I don’t know) to the president of Harvard (where they are students) encouraging him to “cancel Harvard’s institutional membership with the ASA” (American Studies Association). They wrote this letter in response to the ASA’s decision to boycott Israeli universities. Their action is representative of a larger movement known as BDS (boycott, divestment, sanctions), which the ASA supports, that tries to influence Israel’s behavior by creating economic pressure. For those who support the BDS movement they see their actions as similar to the economic pressure the world put on South Africa during Apartheid. As you can imagine, given that precedent, they justify this economic pressure (and one might well use a harsher word than “pressure”) by claiming that Israel’s treatment of the Palestinians is like Apartheid South Africa’s treatment of its blacks. I encourage you to read their much more detailed and more articulate letter, but I’ll summarize a couple of their main points. First, there are at least two types of BDS supporters: the "Zionists" (who believe in a two state solution and support BDS to help save Israel from itself) and the "anti-Zionists" (who believe in the “right of return”, which would allow millions of Palestinian refugees to return to Israel, making a Jewish, Democratic state impossible). This is clearly an important distinction, and Yoav and Sarah point out that many (if not most) of the BDS supporters, especially its founders fall into the "anti-Zionist" category. They also point out that, as in many other instances, there’s no good reason that, even if you believe that Israel behaves inappropriately, we should be singled out for censure. I imagine we can all think of terrible things going on in various countries around the world, including in Israel’s immediate vicinity, that deserve the world's attention. The other article we looked at is by Thomas Friedman, a long time op-ed writer for the New York Times. His main point is that the Cold War paradigm has broken down and the world today is divided not between competing economic systems but by areas of order and disorder. He goes on to explain how this relates to Israel in particular. It's a great read.
Stepping back in time about four thousand years we spent class today talking about Yitzchak (Isaac) and Ya’akov (Jacob). The first story we talked about isn’t very well known, but, in my opinion, offers wonderful insight into the nature of Am Yisrael and our relationship with the world. Yitzchak (about whom very little is written) is an interesting character. It seems likely that the experience of almost being sacrificed by his father must have been a traumatic one, and may well have stuck with him for the rest of his life. He certainly comes off as less charismatic and powerful than his father (Avraham) and son (Yosef). One of the few stories that centers around him tells us that he was quite successful materially, having accumulated large herds of animals. It goes on to say that he dug a well, only to have his neighbors stop it up. He moved to a new location, dug another well and again had angry neighbors ruin it. After this pattern repeats itself a few times his neighbors finally give up and allow him to have his well (the story is in Genesis 26 for those who are interested). While he may not have the dynamism of the other members of his family, this story clearly demonstrates that Yitzchak is persistent and a hard worker, even in the face of adversity. In many ways this story parallels the history of Am Yisrael. Am Yisrael has managed to be successful in many (if not most) places and times throughout world history, often in the face of tremendous adversity, like Yitzchak in this story. This excellent article tries to explain which traits enable different groups to succeed in America, and I found it connects wonderfully to the story about Yitzchak. In my opinion Am Yisrael displays all three of the traits mentioned in the article. Do you agree?
After these few verses about Yitzchak we dove headfirst into Yaakov, one of Yitzchak's sons. As many of you undoubtedly know, Ya'akov had a twin brother, Esau. Esau came out first, making him first the born (which entailed quite a few important privileges in those days), with Ya'akov hanging on to his heel (thus his name, which means "heel", not exactly the most flattering name you can imagine). As a child we see Ya'akov (who is more of an "indoor kid" in contrast to Esau the manly man) buy Esau's birthright for a bowl of soup and steal (with his mother, Rebecca's, help) the special blessing meant for the first born. Many of the students suggested that this doesn't sound like a reasonable story. Even if he were old and seeing poorly, is it really possible Yitzchak, who seems to be coherent, couldn't recognize his own son? Perhaps he secretly wanted to give Ya'akov the blessing? Perhaps Rivka (Rebecca, his wife) was the real head of the household and that's what she wanted? Ya'akov then flees before Esau decides to react. On his way north to find a wife from among his mother's kinsmen Ya'akov has a dream in which Hashem promises him more or less the same things he promised his father and grandfather, namely to make him a great nation. But Ya'akov, instead of being thankful, vows that IF Hashem takes care of him and helps him and provides for him and makes him successful and helps him safely return then he'll take Hashem as his one and only God. When I asked the students to describe Ya'akov up to this point they used words like "cunning", "sneaky", and "immature", all of which I think are accurate descriptions.
He then meets his relative Rachel and falls in love with her. Her father, Laban, demands that he work for him for seven years as payment for her hand in marriage. When the seven years are up somehow he accidentally marries Leah, Rachel's eldest sister. This, too, seems a bit unrealistic. Along with the traditional explanation--that Laban and Leah simply tricked Ya'akov--the students suggested that it's possible that Rachel and Leah tricked him, or perhaps he simply felt bad for Rachel's comely older sister. Regardless of how it happened Ya'akov, who up until now has been the one doing the tricking, gets tricked. I think that in this particular story it's easier to see the Tanakh as a work of literature and guidance, rather than a 100% true account of events. If so, then this is a perfect example of karmic/divine justice. Maybe Ya'akov gets exactly what he deserves. After another seven years of work he finally marries Rachel (for real this time).
Finally, after many years working for Laban Ya'akov sets out on his own to go meet Esau. As you'll recall, their last meeting didn't go so well. Ya'akov has no idea what to expect. In the meantime it seems like he's changed. He is now older, married and has a family. He's been on the other side of cunning, immature behavior. The way he speaks and behaves is quite different from when he was a child. The night before he meets Esau he has a dream in which he wrestles with what tradition says is an angel (the text is unclear), hurting his hip in the process. As morning comes he refuses to let the angel go without receiving a blessing. In reply the angel names him Yisrael, literally "one who struggles with God" (a name henceforth used to describe the Jewish people. What does that say about us?) in place of the rather embarrassing "Ya'akov"
When the time comes to meet Esau Ya'akov (now Yisrael) divides his party into two camps, hoping to save at least one of them if Esau attacks. He sends gifts ahead to Esau. Here the Tanakh, once again, shows itself to be an incredible piece of literature (whatever else it may or may not be). When Yisrael sends a messenger the only answer he receives is "Esau himself will come meet you." When Esau approaches he has 400 men with him. Up until the very moment they meet there's an incredible sense of tension, just like you'd expect from a great novel, movie or TV show. It's unclear what Esau intends to do. In the end they have a happy reunion; Yisrael has grown up and Esau doesn't hold a grudge. A bit later we see them bury their father Isaac together.
Looking back on Ya'akov the students had a number of interesting thoughts. Many of them thought he'd undergone a profound change. Others felt like he was still the same person, but, like many adults, had simply learned to control the negative impulses he gave in to as a child. Still others felt like he hadn't really matured at all. Almost all of them agreed that this struggle to mature is an accurate picture of reality, and part of what has made the Tanakh such a well-known and well-read book for thousands of years
One of the most interesting parts of this story, and of the Tanakh in general, is that our heroes are far from perfect. I don't think it's out of place to say that Yisrael was kind of a jerk as a kid. This is true of many of the important characters in Jewish history (we'll see in a few days, for instance, that both Moshe Rabbenu and King David commit even more grievous sins). While I certainly know less about other religions than about Judaism, I don't think Christian saints, for example, are as likely to have led such morally suspect lives (and if someone knows differently, please correct me!) From these stories we learn the importance of tshuva, the process of constantly looking at yourself and trying to improve. Am Yisrael has a specific time once a year, Yom Kippur, where we do this, but ideally it's supposed to be a life long process. I find that idea--that the best people don't start perfect but spend their lives trying to be better--to be an accurate reflection of my own experiences, and I'd suggest that this realistic view of human nature is one of the keys to Am Yisrael's longevity. What do you think it says about Am Yisrael that all of our heroes are deeply flawed? Would we be better off having at least one perfect hero? Do you think Yisrael's story is representative of the human condition? How much of this idea is specifically Jewish and how much is universal?