Islam

     In my previous post I explained the flowering of Jewish culture on Persian rule that resulted in the Babylonian Talmud. Unfortunately, like all periods of prosperity, it didn't last (how's that for upbeat?). The Persians and the Byzantines (the remainder of the Roman Empire based in Asia Minor) spent most of the 6th century in a series of devastating wars. So by the year 600 they were exhausted in every sense of the word, making it very easy for the world's newest superpower to burst onto the scene, and that's exactly what the Arab Muslims did.
     The Arab people first show up in written history around the year 900 BCE (meaning, of course, they certainly existed before that), and up until the time of Muhammad were essentially synonymous with what we today call Bedouins, the nomads and semi-nomads who live in the desert. In the early 600s Muhammad was a poor man living in the city of Mecca, a trade hub which housed a stone considered holy by the pagan Arabs (the Kaaba stone). Like most nomads, in Arab culture there is a strong emphasis on family and tribal loyalty, which often leads to bitter rivalries between different families (something that can still be seen in the modern Arab world). So the world Muhammad lived in was full of various tribes in a constant state of semi-warfare.
     According to Muslim tradition (and virtually everything we know about Muhammad is based on tradition, rather than historical fact) Muhammad received the Quran over a period of years from the angel Gabriel (proof of its divine origin is the quality of its writing, impossible for an illiterate like Muhammad). He began to preach the teachings of this Quran around Mecca, which was met with disapproval, and in 622 Muhmmad and his followers fled to Medina, an event known as the Hijra, which represents the beginning of the Muslim calendar. In Medina Mumhammad was more successful, and after a number of years his expanded band of followers were able to conquer Mecca. Shortly thereafter Muhammad successfully united all the tribes of the Arab peninsula (which history has shown to be a very big deal, given how rarely the Arabs have been unified since then).
     As the Arab-Muslim empire began to expand, Muhammad died, passing on the leadership to a position called the Caliph, which is a combination of spiritual and temporal leader. The first few Caliphs are generally agreed (among Muslims) to have been good leaders, after which accounts start to differ. At any rate the first major dynasty to rule this new (and rapidly expanding empire) was called the Umayyad dynasty. Under the Umayyads the Arab-Muslim Empire reached its greatest extent (in around 750), which is shown below.

stages of Muslim conquest

     Compared to the Roman Empire, which took 1000 years to reach its peak, the Arab-Muslim Empire practically exploded onto the scene, helped along by the constant fighting between the Persians and Byzantines. But the Arabs, who were used to living as nomads/semi-nomads, had no experience governing large territories, so the burden/privilege of governance often fell on the same people who had been governing for years, with the Arab conquerors simply cracking the whip (I mean that figuratively, though I'm sure there were literal instances as well). By the time the Abbassid dynasty, which had replaced the Umayyads everywhere except for Spain (more on that in the next post), there were many non-Arab Muslims holding important posts. The Persians, especially, adopted the Arabic script and Muslim religion and mixed them together with Persian culture and governance. It was this milieu that led the Islamic civilization (which it's no longer really accurate to call Arab-Muslim, in my opinion) to the staggering heights it reached at its zenith in the 9th century. For hundreds of years Islam carried the torch of civilization while Europe recovered from the end of the Roman Empire, exemplified by the House of Wisdom built by the Abbassids in their new capital of Baghdad.
     So what exactly did these Muslims believe? First of all, they don't see Muhammad as having received anything new. In their view God had given the same message to Abraham, Moses, Elijah, Jesus, etc., but in each instance it was gradually lost. Therefore, virtually anyone who's considered holy by Jews or early Christians is also holy in Islam. From a Muslim viewpoint Muhammad is simply the last prophet, and this time the message didn't get lost.
     The essence of Islam is expressed in five "pillars." The first is a simple declaration of faith; Allah is God and Muhammad is his messenger. The second requires Muslims to pray five times a day. You can actually hear the beautiful call to prayer from our Arab neighbors here at Kibbutz Tzuba (and, truthfully, the call is a lot more beautiful in the middle of the afternoon than it is at 5:30 in the morning). The third requires Muslims to fast during the daylight hours during the entire month of Ramadan (which, compared to the secular calendar, moves each year because the Muslim calendar is lunar, like most non-agricultural peoples). The fourth is the requirement to give charity (2.5% of your savings per year if you have above a certain amount). The final requirement is to complete the Haj, a pilgrimage to Mecca, at least once in your life if you're able.
     As you can see, there are quite a few similarities between Muslim and Jewish beliefs. For example, Muslims and Jews both believe in one God, rather than the more complicated trinity worshiped by Christians (I'd like to be clear that Christians still certainly consider themselves monotheists, it's just more theologically complicated). But compared to pagans, all three of the Abrahamic faiths are quite similar, and so when Muslims conquered the world they gave a special status to the "peoples of the book" (Jews and Christians) known as Dhimmi. This status gave people of the book the right to live in Muslim society, though often with additional taxes and restrictions. Speaking very broadly, historically it has been better to be Jewish in a Muslim society than in a Christian one. 

Talmud

     In the previous post I discussed the development of the Torah She'be'al Peh (Oral Torah), mentioned a few of its main contributors (Hillel, ben Zakai and Akiva) and explained how it was finally written down around 200 CE by Yehuda HaNasi and named the Mishna. Of course, the second it was written down it began to face the same problems the Oral Torah was originally meant to solve: a lack of flexibility and an inability to address changing circumstances. Given that these are problems Am Yisrael had already dealt with once before we had a solution ready. In the same way that the Mishna developed as a series of discussions between Rabbis about the text of the Tanakh that were eventually written down, the Gemara developed as a series of discussions about and interpretations of the Mishna, which were eventually written down. The Mishna and the Gemara together are called the Talmud (from the Hebrew root meaning "to learn"), which is written predominantly in Aramaic, the vernacular of 4th and 5th century Mesopotamia.
     Up until now, aside from a few years in exile in Babylon and a quick jaunt down to Egypt for some slavery, the center of Am Yisrael (the people of Israel) has been in Eretz Yisrael (the land of Israel). But the complete decimation of the land and its people due to the Great Revolt (66-70) and the Bar Kochva revolt (132-135) and the subsequent rise of Christianity slowly pushed more and more of Am Yisrael into the Galut (exile/diaspora). So while there was a Talmud published in Eretz Yisrael, it seems to have been done hurriedly and not at the highest possible level. Also, as you might expect, the Talmud that was published in Israel, called the Jerusalem Talmud (though it was definitely not written in Jerusalem, where Jews were nearly non-existent at this point), deals quite a bit with laws that are specific to the land of Israel. This meant that part of it was irrelevant to Galut Jews, who would make up the majority of Am Yisrael from this point all the way to the modern day (today probably a bit more than half of Am Yisrael live in Eretz Yisrael). For both of these reasons--its less-than-optimal quality and its focus on Eretz Yisrael--the Jerusalem Talmud is secondary in Jewish tradition.
     The main Talmud from which Jews study even today was written several hundred miles away in Mesopotamia (the land between the Tigris and Euphrates River, modern day Iraq) and known as the Babylonian Talmud. It's this series of books you'll find in virtually any observant Jewish home. This process was begun by a man named Abba Arikha (known simply as "Rav", which means Rabbi, in the Talmud), a Mesopotamia-born student of Yehuda HaNasi (codifier of the Mishna). Rav, after studying in Israel, returned to Mesopotamia and opened a famous academy at Sura (there was another at Pumbedita), which cultivated the creation of the Gemara (Rav is also known for codifying the Jewish prayer the Aleinu, which is first written down in Rav's Rosh Hashanah service).
     The Jews of Mesopotamia, under the control of a Persian Empire, were prosperous and generally allowed a good amount of autonomy. This allowed scholarship on the Gemara to flourish, and by around 400 Rav Ashi, a famous head of the Sura Academy, had begun to organize it and write it down, similar to what Yehuda HaNasi did with the Mishna. This process of culling and organizing was eventually completed by his students, and by the year 500 the Babylonian Talmud was more or less complete.
     To try and understand the Talmud (and Jewish law in general) we can compare it to American law. In the US all law is based on the Constitution. But of course the Constitution doesn't comment on things such as the legality of downloading music without paying for it. So why is downloading music illegal? At some point a judge decided that, based on his understanding of the Constitution, downloading music should be illegal (perhaps it's similar to something that is explicitly illegal in the Constitution?). This ruling then became a part of the law, so that the next judge doesn't necessarily have to go back at the Constitution, he can simply site the original case, which decided that downloading music without paying is illegal.
     In Judaism, all law is based upon the Tanakh. But, just as with the Constitution, the Tanakh doesn't explicitly cover each issue. Therefore as new issues arise the Rabbis make their best interpretation and those interpretations/decisions get written down, and that's what became first the Mishna and then the Gemara (and together the Talmud). This process continues today as various commentaries on the Talmud. Here's a link to a famous Talmudic passage in which the Rabbis are discussing the phrase "an eye for an eye". This particular tractate is dealing with how to assess damages (ie should you actually poke out their eye or does the phrase actually mean compensation) Be warned it's very difficult to understand without a background or proper teacher, but definitely give it a try! The part at the beginning in all caps is the Mishna; the part after that is the Gemara. 

Torah she'be'al peh: The Oral Torah

     Today we were on an amazing tiyul (field trip) in the north of the country. We began at Beit Shearim, which is just southeast of Haifa, then cut across the country to Beit Alfa, which is near Beit She'an on Israel's Eastern border, and finished up with a dip in the beautiful Sachne Pools nearby. But, as usual, we began with current events. This morning a Jewish government official in the Ukraine criticized Israel's lack of support for the Ukranian Jewish committee during this unsettled time in Ukraine. According to the article he requested that Israel send security help for Jewish institutions such as btei knesset (synagogues) and Jewish day schools. This puts Israel in an interesting conundrum. On the one hand, it's probably not politically expedient for Israel to get into a conflict with Russia, and any such aid would likely cost Israel both financially and in terms of our relationship with a number of Eastern European countries. On the other hand, isn't at least part of the point of having a Jewish state the ability to help Jews around the world? The students had a lot of interesting reactions to this question ranging from "it's too costly for Israel" to "Israel should make clear that aliyah is an option but not get directly involved in security in Ukraine" to "Israel should send some personnel to help secure Jewish facilities." What role do you think Israel should play?
     So why were we up north? After the destruction of Beit HaMikdash in 70 and the Bar Kochba revolt from 132 to 135 Jerusalem and the center of the country were completely destroyed and the center of Jewish life moved to the north. The Sanhedrin, for example, moved among places such as Tzippori, Beit Shearim and Tiberias (and is therefore known as the "Wandering Sanhedrin" during this time). During this time the most important development for Am Yisrael was the continued progression of the Torah she'be'al peh (Oral Torah or Oral law). I explained the principles behind the development of the Oral Torah in a previous post, but it's basically the tradition that was passed down to explain difficulties/incongruities in the written text, and by the arrival of the Romans (63 BCE) it was already a prominent part of Jewish thought. The destruction of Beit HaMikdash by Titus basically ended the Sadduccee sect, whose Judaism was based on Beit HaMikdash and who didn't accept the legitimacy of the Oral Torah, leaving only the Pharisees, now the leaders of Am Yisrael, and their academies, the centers where the Oral Law developed.
     I've already mentioned a few of the most important Rabbis in this process: Hillel, who applied Hellenistic logic to Jewish law and developed hermeneutical principles (some of which will be familiar to modern lawyers, such as an "a fortiori" argument), and Yochanan ben Zakai, who fled the besieged Jerusalem, established an academy in Yavneh, and began to build a Judaism not based around Jerusalem and Beit HaMikdash. In my previous post I mentioned Rabbi Akiva, spiritual leader of the Bar Kochva revolt, who died gruesomely in an amphitheater while saying the Shema (the central statement of faith in Judaism). Rabbi Akiva is generally credited with beginning to organize the Oral Torah. As you can imagine the main way people studied the Tanakh was in order, beginning with Breisheet (Genesis) and proceeding through Shemot (Exodus), Vaykira (Leviticus), etc. But as we more explicitly defined the goal of study to be understanding which laws can be derived from the Tanakh this wasn't an effective method, so Rabbi Akiva organized the Oral Torah into six books, arranged by subject. Now, to learn about the laws regarding Shabbat, for example, you didn't have to search through several different books of the Tanakh and find the appropriate interpretation; you could simply look at the section dealing with laws about Shabbat.
     One of the next major contributors to the Oral Torah (and obviously I'm leaving out many important people) was Rabbi Yehuda HaNasi, who is the reason we began our tiyul in Beit Shearim, where, according to tradition, he is buried. During the time when Yehuda HaNasi was active (around 200 CE) he noticed at least two main problems with the Oral Torah. First, given the number of Jews who had been killed during the two revolts and the ongoing persecution against Am Yisrael, he recognized the difficulty in depending on the tannaim (who memorized and passed on the Oral Torah), who might be killed at any moment. Second, he saw that as the process of Oral Law drew wider acceptance there were more and more interpretations to the various stories and laws. While this flourishing of Jewish thought certainly had many positive aspects, it also made it more likely for there to be a sect (or sects), such as the Christian Jews, who would eventually break away from Judaism. Given these realities he made the controversial decision to write down the Oral Torah, which he organized in the six categories developed by Rabbi Akiva and is today known as the Mishna.
     Today, it seems quite obvious that writing down the Mishna (or anything else you want to preserve) is a good idea, but there are several problems. The first is that writing down the Oral Torah destroys one of its main advantages: its ability to adapt to new circumstances. Once its written down it loses its flexibility (and we'll see how Am Yisrael deals with this problem in a later blog). Another main concern is that in writing down the Oral Torah Yehuda HaNasi had to decide which traditions/interpretations to include and which to leave out. In explaining this to the students I asked them to consider what they would write today if they had to make an official determination about what is Jewish. Most Jews would clearly describe someone who wears a kippah, prays three times a day, studies Torah and behaves in a morally just way as Jewish, and most Jews would clearly describe someone who goes to church every week and accepts Jesus as his personal savior as non-Jewish. The question is where do we draw the line? Does being Jewish only mean behaving ethically? Does it mean a minimum number of visits to Beit Knesset every week/month/year? Does it mean celebrating Jewish holidays, or speaking Hebrew? If I "feel Jewish" does that make me Jewish? It's obviously a very difficult question to answer, and I hope you'll share your own view in the comments.
     Also on this tiyul we saw what it was like for Am Yisrael to live as a minority among a strong majority culture (sound familiar?) and the influences the majority culture can have. At Beit Shearim we saw rabbis' graves with pictures of eagles, the symbol of Rome, and even Nike, the goddess of victory. At Beit Alpha we saw the beautiful mosaic floor of a Beit Knesset, which had a picture of the Roman sun god Helios in the middle.

part of the mosaic floor in the beit knesset at beit alpha showing the god Helios

     After seeing these somewhat surprising images in slightly uncomfortable places I asked the students what they made of it, and how they thought it compared to their modern day lives. Many of them accepted the ubiquity of modern American Christian culture (I think about half had sung Christmas songs as part of being in Chorus class), but still felt like these particular instances were going too far (a foreign god in a beit knesset!). Both of these discussions were incredibly interesting, and I hope the students (and anyone else who's interested!) will share their thoughts in the comments. A few of them also wrote about which cultural practices and symbols we can adapt and use as Jews in their own blogs, so check them out!

More Christianity and the Bar Kochva Rebellion

     One of the current events we talked about in class recently is the Hezbollah soldiers who recently died in battle in the Syrian Civil War. Hezbollah (literally the party of god, or Allah in Arabic) is a Shiite (one of the two main branches of Islam) terrorist organization/political party based in Lebanon originally founded to force the IDF out of southern Lebanon (a small part of which we occupied for security purposes for about 20 years). As you can imagine this resistance made them a popular organization both in Lebanon and throughout the Arab world. Also, like so many of these organizations, they also provide a variety of social services within Lebanon. Syria, Lebanon's much larger and more powerful neighbor, has long had an outsize influence on Lebanon, and especially on Hezbollah. Bashar Assad, the head of the Syrian government, is an Alawite, which is a branch of Shiite Islam (and both Syria and Lebanon are supported with arms, money and training by Shiite Iran). Perhaps it should come as no surprise then that Hezbollah decided to enter the Syrian Civil War on behalf of the government forces.
     Unfortunately for Hezbollah siding with a dictator to kill other Arabs has proven a less popular decision both at home and among the Arab world than trying to force Israel out of Lebanon was. This has led to a number of attacks in Lebanese territory. Some of them have been individual bombings in Hezbollah strongholds. But recently, various units fighting against the Assad/Hezbollah/Iran alliance in Syria have also, in certain instances, moved into Lebanese territory. Another result of this alliance, which has existed for years, but never as overtly and strongly as it does now, has been to increase Sunni (the other main branch of Islam) resistance. This resistance has been led by countries such as Saudi Arabia, who, though they can't exactly come out and say it, are clearly as worried by the results of the civil war (and, eventually, perhaps a nuclear Iran) as Israel. But that's enough complicated Middle Eastern politics, let's get back to the development of Christianity.
     In my last blog I summarized the life of Yehoshua ben Yosef (Joshua son of Joseph, commonly known as Jesus) and explained a few main differences between Judaism and Christianity. But of course that was only the very beginning of the Christian story. In the roughly three centuries that followed the life of Yehoshua the Christians were persecuted terribly (and I say that as a Jew whose fully aware how badly the Jews have been persecuted over the years). Though of course history actually moves in fits and starts, we can say that by around the time of the emperor Constantine (~320) Christianity had become an accepted religion (his mother was Christian and it is said that he saw a cross in the sky before a famous battle, which he won) and by the end of the 4th century it was the official religion of the Roman Empire.
     This official adoption by the Roman Empire had important consequences for the way Christianity was organized. In general, it mirrored the organization of the Roman Empire. So, for example, Constantine's new capital Constantinople (today's Istanbul) became an important center of Christianity. When the Western Roman Empire fell in 476 CE the Eastern Roman Empire (which history would call the Byzantine Empire) became the standard-bearer for Christianity. This split, between the conquered west and the unconquered east would eventually lead to the Great Schism in 1054 in which Eastern and Western Christianity split.
     Christianity also underwent important theological changes in the centuries after Yehoshua's death. Arguably the most important influence came from Paul, originally a Jew named Saul, who converted to Christianity after famously having a vision of Yehoshua while on the road to Damascus. After this experience he became a major proselytizer for Christianity. Not only that, but while previously the target audience for proselytizing Christians had been Jews, Paul preached mainly to pagans, traveling extensively within the Roman Empire and famously writing many epistles (letters) to other communities, many of which are preserved in the Christian Bible.
     Paul, along with his extensive outreach, also made significant changes to the substance of Christianity (as always, it's unlikely that he thought of and enacted these changes alone, but he's generally the face of them). Whereas Yehoshua had said he didn't intend to change even a word of the law, Paul (and others like him) decided that certain Jewish practices, such as circumcision and keeping Kosher, were unnecessary in Christianity. In the instance of circumcision, for example, Paul said that merely getting circumcised didn't make you a good person; its your actions that matter, and so he advocated a "circumcision of the heart" rather than a literal circumcision. While Jews would agree that getting circumcised doesn't make you a good person, our view is that it's a physical symbol of our covenant with HaShem (the Hebrew phrase for circumcision is literally a covenant), which should help us remember how to behave. In fact, virtually all Jewish rituals are to help us remember some particular message or event.
     While it seems clear that Paul's new version of Christianity came from an honest place--Yehoshua himself pointed out that the trappings of holiness, such as priestly garments, aren't what actually make you holy--it certainly didn't lessen Christianity's appeal. You can imagine an ancient Roman who admired Judaism's morality and views on god considering conversion only to decide against it when he learned he'd have to cut off a little part of his best friend. Paul solved this problem for Christianity.
     Another important Christian thinker was St. Augustine, who was active around the year 400. At this point Rome, who had ruled the world for at least 500 years, was clearly in decline, and would be sacked for the first time since 390 BCE (an interval of 800 years) during his lifetime. Partially as a response to this he wrote the book "City of God", explaining that the physical existence in this life was far less important than the world-to-come. Like Paul, he was clearly a brilliant scholar and deep thinker, but you can imagine the appeal of this idea in a world in which the physical conditions were rapidly deteriorating.
     St. Augustine also dealt with the intellectual conundrum that was the continued existence of the Jews. If, as he knew to be the case, Christianity was True, how can we explain the continued existence of Am Yisrael (the Jewish people)? Shouldn't they all have died out and/or converted to Christianity? St. Augustine's answer is that Am Yisrael survived in order to act as witnesses to the glory of Christianity and to serve as a warning to Christians. He also contributed to the development of the idea of "original sin" (discussed in the previous blog) and just war theory. Even today his writings continue to exert a major influence on Christian thinkers (and even general philosophy).
     Back in Eretz Yisrael things weren't going well for Am Yisrael. After the Great Revolt of 66-70, which culminated in the destruction of the Second Temple, we were able to pick ourselves up and re-establish some kind of community. Unfortunately, 50 years later, the Roman emperor Hadrian rose to power, who was an avid Hellenist. As such, he clashed with Am Yisrael, passing laws forbidding circumcision (which, in his view, mutilated the beautiful human body), building a pagan temple on the site of the destroyed Beit HaMikdash (Temple) and even renaming Jerusalem Aelia Capitolina, a combination of his own name and that of Rome's chief deity.
     Not surprisingly these measures led to a Jewish revolt. Whereas during the Great Revolt Am Yisrael was divided and fighting among ourselves, this time we were united under the military/political leadership of Shimon bar Kochva (bar Kochva was a play on his actual name; it means "son of star), who was widely believed to be the messiah, and the spiritual leadership of Rabbi Akiva (more on him in the next blog about the further development of the Oral Torah). This revolt was so successful that there was actually an independent Jewish state for more than two years, and it took up to half of the entire Roman army (this is the higher side of various estimates, but its clear that it took a huge force) to put it down. Rome's 12th legion, for example, was erased from history during the rebellion (and maybe the 9th as well). Bar Kochba and co even printed their own coins.

coins from the brief Jewish state founded by bar Kochva. left: Beit HaMikdash with the Ark of the Covenant within. right: a lulav and etrog, symbols of the Jewish holiday of Sukkot

     Unfortunately for Am Yisrael, this revolt happened right at the peak of Rome's powers, and so they eventually put it down. To combat bar Kochba's guerrilla tactics the Romans embraced a scorched earth strategy, destroying absolutely everything. There are many stories about the ferocity of the destruction. The Jerusalem Talmud, for example, writes that the Romans "went on killing until their horses were submerged in blood to their nostrils". One Roman historian estimates that nearly 600,000 Jews were killed (even today that would be nearly 5% of the Jewish population). 

     After the rebellion the anti-Jewish laws became even stricter. Hadrian wanted to completely extirpate Am Yisrael so, among other punishments, he ceremonially burned the Torah scroll on the site of the destroyed Beit HaMikdash. Another unforeseen result of the rebellion was a further split between Judaism and Christianity. While there were certainly multiple reasons that the Christians chose not to participate in the rebellion, one major consideration was that they couldn't accept that bar Kochba was the messiah. 

     This rebellion, in my opinion, is more problematic than the Great Revolt. It's easy to make the case that the Great Revolt was a huge mistake, one for which we must largely blame ourselves (which is not to excuse the role the Romans played). In this case, though, it's more complicated. How should we have reacted to Hadrian's laws? At what point do you say "enough is enough"? When he renamed Jerusalem? When he outlawed circumcision? When he built a pagan temple on Har HaBayit (the Temple Mount)? How should we have reacted?

Christianity

     Today we were on tiyul in Ein Karem, a lovely neighborhood on the edge of Jerusalem and the traditional home of John the Baptist (the New Testament only says it was in the mountains of Judah, but traditionally this is the place). This class is always one of the most challenging for me. Whereas the classes about the development of Am Yisrael are filled with meaning for me, teaching about Christianity is more academic. Also, it's a challenge to present Christianity as different from Judaism, but still credit it as a worldview that has given meaning and comfort to millions of people. And, lastly, I know so much less about it! So, as always, if you notice something incorrect in the blog, please feel free to let me know, especially today.
     The story of Christianity begins during the Second Temple period, about which we've been learning for a couple of weeks. During this time there were many different sects of Jews (we've talked about four of them quite a bit, but there were certainly many more smaller sects) and plenty of people claiming to be the messiah. One of them, Yehoshua ben Yosef (Joshua son of Joseph), went on to be the most important figure in Christianity. Most scholars agree that Jesus (his Greek name) was born between 6 BCE and 4 BCE to a Galilean family. According to tradition his pregnant mother left Nazareth, where they were living, and came to visit her relative, John the Baptist's mother, in Ein Karem. Then, due to a census requiring that everyone return to his/her ancestral homeland, the unborn Jesus and his family went to Bethlehem, where Jesus was born.
     From a historical perspective, this story doesn't make much sense. The point of a census (from ancient times until today) is to learn about the population of an area in the present day, mostly in order to assess taxes and conscript soldiers. Given these goals, having everyone go to a place where they may not currently be living is silly. Of course, there are plenty of arguments against this line of thinking, ranging from "God can do whatever God wants" to "this census was special and different for reason X." If you believe that this story doesn't make historical sense then we have to ask why it exists. The answer is that early Christianity was a sect of Judaism, whose goal was to attract more Jews. According to Jewish tradition the Messiah will come from the line of King David, who, as we know, was born in Bethlehem. Therefore, if you want to convince Am Yisrael that someone is the Messiah you need to show that his family comes from Bethlehem (also, it can be challenging to reconcile Yehoshua as a direct descendant of David with the fact that his father, according to tradition, wasn't biologically his father due to the immaculate conception).
     Whatever your take on his birth we don't hear much about Jesus until around the time of his Bar Mitzvah. At this time he and his family go to visit Beit HaMikdash, an event that fits in very well with what we would expect from a family like his in this time period. While there, Yehoshua gets lost, and his parents later find him discussing the law with the Pharisaic leaders, who are impressed by his erudition. Again, this fits in well with the little scholars mostly agree upon about Yehoshua: that he was an important Rabbi and anti-Sadducee.
     After his visit to Beit HaMikdash we again don't hear much about Yehoshua for a while. The story resumes when he meets his relative John the Baptist (at the time it probably would have been more accurate to call him Yochanan the Mikve Man) and gets baptized. After wandering through the desert and being tempted by Satan, Yehoshua returns to the Galil (specifically the area near the Kinnerret, the Sea of Galilee) and begins to preach and do miracles. One of the few direct teachings we have from Yehoshua (as opposed to later reports and explanations by his followers) is his Sermon on the Mount, in which he preaches to all his followers. Some of what he says in this speech, such as "blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness" fits perfectly with Jewish dogma. Other parts, such as "blessed are the meek" do not. For Jews, each life has independent value to Hashem. So, for example, Jews aren't allowed to commit suicide because we're not allowed to just give away our lives if we feel like it; it's not ours to give. By a similar token, the idea of "turn the other cheek" (which seems to me to be quite similar to "blessed are the meek") is not a Jewish value. Your life and well-being have independent value, and you're not allowed to let someone trample on that. (Also, for Jews, there's nothing inherently wrong with being wealthy, assuming you still act appropriately, which is different from the Christian view that says it's easier to fit a camel through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get to heaven.)
     Eventually Yehoshua and his disciples head to Jerusalem and, upon arriving, Yehoshua cries and prophesies the destruction of Beit HaMikdash. Throughout his life and teachings its clear that Yehoshua believed the wealthy, and specifically the Sadduccee priests running the Temple, were corrupt and immoral (and, by the way, he wasn't the only one). In our day and age we might expect Yehoshua to be one of the leaders of the "Occupy" movement. (This certainly elucidates his view, mentioned above, about the difficulty of rich people getting into heaven.) After spending a few days in Jerusalem Yehoshua and his disciples sit down for what history will call "The Last Supper." Judas, one of Yehoshua's disciples, then betrays him and turns him over to the Jewish leadership (as Yehoshua predicted). The Jewish leadership (meaning the Sadduccee priests) are, obviously, not big fans of Yehoshua, who has been lambasting them as corrupt and allowing people to refer to him as the Messiah (which makes him, officially, a heretic). The priests then turn Yehoshua over to Pontius Pilate, the contemporaneous procurator (Roman government official).
     According to Christian tradition, Pontius Pilate does everything he can reasonably do to avoid killing Yehoshua, including giving the people a choice between Yehoshua and a zealot leader. In this case, it's hard to reconcile the traditional story with the historical research. Pilate, according to non-Christian sources, was a terrible, rapacious procurator, and there are no other examples of a procurator offering the crowd the opportunity to exempt a prisoner. A traditional Christian response might point out that this was during Pesach (Passover), one of the three pilgrimage holidays, so Jerusalem would have been packed with extra people and particularly susceptible to revolution. Given these concerns it's possible that Pilate changed his tune and made a one time decision to allow this amnesty-by-referendum.
     At any rate, according to tradition, the crowd votes to release the zealot (perhaps with some "encouragement" from his zealot buddies in the crowd) and Yehoshua is crucified, an extremely common way to kill someone at the time (to the point that bored Roman soldiers would crucify people sideways, upside down, etc.) After his crucifixion and death Yehoshua was put in his tomb. Christian tradition then tells us that when his followers went to visit the body he wasn't there, and that he spent the next several weeks visiting his students and performing miracles before finally ascending to heaven.
     Rather than continue the story of the development of Christianity (which includes the writing of the four gospels and the conversion of Paul, who begins to preach more to pagans than to Jews and who does much of the organizing and public relations that turns Christianity into a prominent religion), I'd like to change focus and discuss one of the main differences between Judaism and Christianity. One of the most important conceptual differences is the idea of original sin. For Christians, when Eve ate the apple in the Garden of Eden she tainted all of humanity with sin, so that even a newborn baby is already sinful. According to this view of humanity--that we are all innately blemished--no one can go to heaven. In order to solve this problem, Yehoshua, who is not tainted by original sin because he's godly, but can make a meaningful sacrifice because he's human, sacrifices himself. The rest of humanity, by believing in Yehoshua as the messiah can, in this way, absolve ourselves of original sin and get into heaven.
     This aspect of Christianity is interesting and important for a number of reasons. First of all, it shows how theologically Christianity is much more complex than Judaism. The ideas that Yehoshua is both God and man (which, as I explained above, is necessary for Christian theology) and that God has three different aspects/"persons" are quite complicated compared with Judaism's straightforward belief in one god. (Of course, Judaism is complicated in other ways. Good luck explaining that a Jew has to walk up 10 flights of stairs on Shabbat rather than take the elevator because he's supposed to be resting.) Even more important, however, is the idea in Christianity that the path to heaven must run through Yehoshua, meaning the central tenet of Christianity is acceptance of Yehoshua as the messiah (or christ in Greek).
     A Jewish joke will help explain the difference. Rabbi Moshe and Rabbi Shmuel are having a deep theological discussion late into the night. As dawn approaches they finally prove definitively that there is no god. Parting ways Rabbi Moshe climbs into bed, but, distraught over this discovery, can't fall asleep. After a couple hours he sees Rabbi Shmuel on his way to the beit knesset (synagogue) to pray shacharit (the morning prayers). Flabbergasted, he calls out to him, "Rabbi Moshe, we just proved that there's no god, what are you doing?" Rabbi Moshe answers him "god, shmod, you still have to pray three times a day."
     This story illustrates the point that in Judaism faith is much less important than behavior and, specifically, following the law. Is it better to believe and have really pure motives? Absolutely. But if you're questioning your faith or you woke up on the wrong side of the bed and don't feel like following the law do you still have to? Definitely. Whereas faith is the central tenet of Christianity, following the law and behaving like you're supposed to is the central tenet of Judaism. (Judaism also tells us that often people who originally do the right thing for the wrong reason end up doing it for the right reason, such as Oscar Schindler.) Just to be clear, I have no doubt that if you asked a Christian leader whether Christians are required to behave in a moral, righteous way, the answer would be an unequivocal, emphatic "yes." (and I suspect the leader would encourage you to model your behavior on the life of Jesus, whom he would encourage you to accept as messiah). And if you asked a Jewish leader whether Jews are required to believe in Hashem as the only god you'd get a resounding "yes" as well. But if we're trying to compare the religions, it's clear that Christianity puts a greater emphasis on faith.
     Do you think these differences say anything about the respective religions? Does the modern Christianity you see reflect this emphasis on faith? Should Am Yisrael put more of an emphasis on faith? Do you think this would encourage more unity?

Post Temple Judaism: Creating a New Religion

     After Massada the students were away from Tzuba for a week. After a weekend hiking at Ein Gedi, swimming in the Dead Sea and repelling down mountains they headed to Gadna for a week. At Gadna they got a small taste of what it's like to be in the IDF (Israeli army). From the stories I've heard it sounds like it was a really interesting experience and I'd encourage you to check out the students blogs about it. After Gadna they headed down to Eilat, Israel's southernmost city and only access to the Red Sea, making it an important port to Africa and the east. It also has gorgeous coral, which the students enjoyed while snorkeling. Finally they stopped at Kibbutz Lotan, a kibbutz founded through the Reform movement, which focuses on environmental issues such as creative recycling and green building.
     When the students got back to Tzuba we spent most of our first day reviewing. This time, when we talked about Massada I asked the students whether the Zealots' behavior is really something we should admire, or whether we should think of them as religious/nationalist extremist. I suspect the answer, as usual, lies somewhere in between the two extremes. Historically, however, the answer is clear. The zealots at Massada were barely mentioned for centuries. Traditionally the hero of the Great Revolt (66-70) is Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakai, or "the Ribaz" to his friends (virtually all great Jewish scholars are also known by their initials, such as, famously, the Rambam).
     Yohanan ben Zakai was a Pharisaic leader (another way of saying he was a rabbi) who opposed the rebellion. Stuck in a besieged Jerusalem, he faked his own death and was smuggled out of the city in a coffin, apocryphally filled with dead fish (he had to fool both the Zealots, who refused to let anyone leave the city, and the Romans). Once out of the city he finagled his way into a meeting with Vespasian, the Roman commanding general. According to tradition ben Zakai addressed Vespasian as Caesar (emperor), and while Vespasian was explaining to him that this is not the case a herald arrived to tell Vespasian that, yes, he had in fact just been declared Caesar. Ben Zakai then requested as a reward that he be given "Yavne v'chochomeha" (Yavne and the sages). Essentially, he asked for a small, out of the way town, at which to re-establish his academy and continue learning/teaching Torah. Though it may not seem like it at first glance, this meeting between Vespasian and Yohanan ben Zakai ended up being one of the most important events in Jewish history. At his academy in Yavne ben Zakai continued the development of the Torah she'be'al peh (oral Torah) and, crucially, designed a new Judaism not based on Beit HaMikdash (The Temple).
     But in order to understand these developments we first have to understand the Oral Torah itself. The problem with written law is its inflexibility. Inevitably the world changes and the law, if it is to remain relevant, must adapt with it. Traditionally, Am Yisrael says that when Hashem gave the Torah to Moshe on Mt. Sinai, Hashem also explained it to him. These explanations were then passed down in an unbroken chain from Moshe to Joshua to the Judges to the Prophets, etc. This divine pedigree is critical, since oral law is the source of the vast majority of Halacha (Jewish law).
     From a more scientific perspective we can't trace the oral law back to Moshe (and, honestly, what CAN be traced back 3500 years?), but it's clear that it's existed for a long time. Again, given the way that law typically develops, this is almost inevitable. For example, in the time of Ezra (~450 BCE) you can imagine one of the scribes reading the Tanakh out loud, translating it as he goes. At some point, some member of the crowd calls out that he didn't understand a certain word or phrase. The scribe, in order to translate, has to explain the intent of the original Hebrew, and, voila, we have an oral law. Historically, there's no evidence of a written law existing independent of the oral law.
     In the last few centuries BCE, as Hellenism was taking hold in the Middle East, the oral law took a great leap forward. One of the results of the contact between Judaism and Hellenism is that Jewish scholars began to use Hellenistic thinking and logic in their thinking about the law. This new, logical approach (rather than waiting for divine revelation) led to the rapid development of the law. One of the earliest proponents of these new methods was Rabbi Hillel, who lived right around the turn of the millennium.  However, I'll leave the lives and innovations of the specific scholars for another post.
     Reform Jews view the oral law quite differently. According to the Reform view the oral law is simply the opinions of very bright Jewish scholars. This repudiation of the sanctity of the oral law is one of the things that sets Reform Judaism apart from traditional Judaism. Do you think the oral law should carry more weight among Reform Jews? Can we really make an educated decision about how important it is without studying it (as most Reform Jews, myself included, haven't)? Do we have any more or less evidence that the Oral Torah is more/less divine than the Written Torah? Even if it's not divine, should the consensus of the Rabbis carry weight?

Massada

Kitat Kalanit on top of Massada

     Today, after a very very early wake-up we drove down to Massada, one of Israel's best known tourist sites. We struggled up the snake path, whose name accurately describes the narrow, winding trail up the mountain, just in time to catch the sun rising over the Dead Sea. A few students, including Kalanit representative Shoshana Kaplan, (woo hoo!) then led us in shacharit (the morning prayer). Even though I've done it nearly a dozen times, praying on Massada at sunrise is an incredibly beautiful experience. It's one of those things that never seems to get old. I can only imagine how meaningful it must have been for the students.
     Having arrived, enjoyed the view and prayed, we then began class. While we were looking out over the Dead Sea the students noticed that it's actually two smaller bodies of water. This is because, over the last few dozen years the Dead Sea has been drying up. The various countries bordering the Jordan River (including Israel), which feeds into the Dead Sea, have been extracting the water for domestic uses, with the result that less and less water arrives at the Dead Sea. Several solutions have been proposed to try and mitigate issue. One of the main solutions Israel has employed is to try and find alternative sources of water, allowing more of the water from the Jordan River to flow into the Dead Sea. For example a large percentage of our water comes from desalination; and we lead the world in the percentage of waste water that is treated and reused (Israel does this with ~70% of our water, second place in the world is Spain at around 25%).
     These attempts to increase the flow of the Jordan have so far proven to not be enough. As a result, a project called the Red Sea-Dead Sea Canal, which has been floating around for years, was recently approved. The idea is to build a canal from the Red Sea, at the Southern tip of Israel, to the Dead Sea. Since the Red Sea is at sea level (surprise!) and the Dead Sea is the lowest point on earth, mostly it will be gravity doing the work. In theory, Israel, together with Jordan and the Palestinian Authority, will use the downward flow of the water to generate electricity, which will be used to desalinate part of the water for the desert communities in the region. The remaining water will then flow into the Dead Sea. All of this sounds great, but it is likely to be expensive, require the cooperation of multiple entities among Israel, Jordan and the Palestinian Authority, and will have a variety of environmental and social consequences that we're still trying to evaluate. Basically, it sounds great, but it's in the early stages and who knows what will happen.
     Massada itself seems to have been some sort of fortress for thousands of years. It overlooks the Dead Sea, always a site of curiosity and mineral wealth. It's also on the road to Ein Gedi, an important nearby oasis in ancient times, both for its springs and for the special perfume that was created there. But most of the ruins that we see today are from the time of Herod the Great, the brilliant, crazy, paranoid "King of the Jews" from 37-4 BCE. As part of his paranoia he built multiple fortresses outside of Jerusalem, just in case there was an uprising and he needed to flee. He also worried that perhaps Cleopatra, the charming, charismatic (though, according to the historical record, not beautiful) ruler of Egypt would convince one of the Roman leaders (whom she was in the habit of seducing) to giver her part of Herod's kingdom. In another situation, you might expect Massada to have simply been a military fortress, but not when Herod's in charge. He built himself a beautiful palace on the northern edge of the mountain and also had a full Roman bath house installed. Even today it's clear what a beautiful, extravagant place Massada must have been in Herod's time.
     Several dozen years after Herod is desert fortress was appropriated by Zealots (the sect of Jews who supported an armed revolution against the Romans) fleeing Jerusalem during the Great Revolt. According to Josephus (the historian upon whom much of our Second Temple period knowledge is based) about 1000 Zealots inhabited Massada and continued to hold out against the Romans until the year 73 (three years after the destruction of Jerusalem and Beit HaMikdash). We spent a couple of hours walking around the site, trying to understand how first Herod and then the Zealots were able to live in the middle of the desert (I think the students will agree the system of aqueducts that brought water to Massada was particularly impressive).
     Unfortunately, the story of Massada has a very bitter end, as most of the students already knew. After three years the Romans finally built an enormous ramp, allowing them access to the mountain top. Before they could finally break through the Zealots decided to commit mass homicide, drawing lots to determine which ten people would kill the rest of the community. One of the final ten then killed the other nine and then, finally, committed suicide.
     On the one hand, these Zealots were incredibly brave and committed. They really meant it when they said "Give me liberty or give me death." (obviously a misappropriated quote from the American Revolution and not an actual quote from the Zealots) I find it easy, in general, to respect people who have the courage to act in accordance with their beliefs. When Jews began returning to Israel in the modern era (~1880) trying to shed the image of the "ghetto Jew" and create a new, strong independent identity, the story of Massada spoke to them. For many years the IDF held swearing-in ceremonies on Massada, in which they would say "Massada will not fall again. The people of Israel live." Here you can see the students yelling the same phrase off into the mountains and the responding echo (it's really awesome in person).

     But it also seems reasonable to think about the Zealots as religious/nationalist extremists who dragged Am Yisrael into a war we had no chance of winning. This is especially true given the fact that the Roman Empire, on the whole, was a reasonably tolerant place to live. When we think about it like this, the story of Massada sounds very different. If, today, we heard about a group of religious extremists in Pakistan (or anywhere else) who barricaded themselves into a fort, held out as long as they could, and then committed mass homicide (including women and children) in order to avoid captivity it's hard for me to believe we'd have the same respect that we tend to have for the defenders of Massada (and of course the situations aren't 100% the same). I intentionally did not mention this perspective while we were on Massada (I wanted the students to understand its importance to Am Yisrael and the state of Israel first), but only during the next class.
     Do you think the Zealots, given their options, made the right decision by committing mass homicide? Do you think they were brave, noble Jews, or crazy, religious/nationalist fanatics? Is it possible to respect them and denigrate them at the same time? Should Massada be such an important, respected site in Israel?

2nd Temple Period: Southern Wall and Herodian Mansions

     We began today's tiyul talking about a phenomenon made popular by the book Start Up Nation by Dan Senor and Saul Singer. The book asks and attempts to answer the question, "Why does Israel have so many start ups?" (Israel has the highest number in the world per capita). While I'd encourage you to read the book, one of the main answers they come up with is chutzpah, which means "audacity" (but with a kind of negative connotation). Whatever the reason, Israel is regularly in the news for various start ups that are attempting to solve some pressing issue or that have just been bought for gigantic sums. Here are a few examples. The world's largest accelerator (home for start ups) is opening their first non-US branch in Israel. Viber, a company founded by Israelis, was just sold for $900 million. Israel just launched an accelerator for start ups that specifically aim to help disabled people. And Israeli technology is helping to sustainably power Africa. As we get closer to the modern state we'll have a chance to examine this phenomenon more closely.
     Now for the tiyul! We started our day at the Southern Wall, meaning the same wall as the Kotel (Western Wall), just a different part of it (further to the South, surprise). For several days we've been talking about the development of two main groups within Am Yisrael: those who embrace Hellenism and those who reject it. As the Romans take over Israel (they're more or less in charge, though not directly ruling, by 63 BCE) we see Am Yisrael divide into at least four different groups (a little bit like political parties). The two main groups are the Sadducees and the Pharisees. The Sadducees came mostly from the Priestly class, believed Judaism should revolve around the Temple and didn't accept the legitimacy of the Oral Law (we've just scraped the surface of this subject, but for now we can think of it as anything other than the strict, written text of the Tanakh). The Pharisees tended to come from a lower economic stratum. While valuing the Temple, they also believed that study and developing the law were important.
     Yesterday I left blog readers (though not the students) in terrible suspense, not revealing the big secret behind the Hanukkah story. The truth is it's rather mundane. After nearly a century in power the Hasmoneans, leaders of the revolt against Antiochus Epiphanes (167 BCE - 164 BCE), had become quite Hellenized. Among other things this led to a gradually worsening conflict with the Pharisees, which included quite a bit of violence by the Hasmoneans against the Pharisees. The Pharisees, the sect who ended up surviving and continuing Jewish history, didn't want to give credit to the Hasmoneans, their eventual enemies, for the revolt against the Seleucids. Instead, the Pharisaic Rabbis singled out one Hasmonean, Judah Maccabee, for praise, and created a story about some oil, giving most of the credit to Hashem.
     While the Pharisees and Sadducees were the two most important sects, there were at least three others. The Essenes, who considered Jerusalem to be corrupt beyond saving, lived in secluded communities in the desert. They were obsessed with purity and therefore wore all white and frequently visited their mikvahs (Jewish ritual baths). The Dead Sea scrolls were likely preserved in caves for us to see today by the sudden disappearance of one of these communities of Essenes. The Zealots, as their name implies, were intensely opposed to any foreign rule in Judea. They believed an armed revolt was the only way to overthrow the Roman oppressors. It is members from this sect who held out against the Romans at Massada (where we'll be tomorrow). The last sect of Jews at this time is the Christians, to whom we'll devote a full class period later.
     While at the Southern Wall we talked a bit about King Herod, the genius/madman responsible for building Beit Hamikdash (the Temple). King Herod, a completely Hellenistic ruler who had the full backing of Rome, came from a family that had only converted to Judaism (probably after being forced by the Hasmoneans) a couple of generations earlier. His Roman sympathies along with his family's questionable Jewishness caused many of his subjects to question his legitimacy. Also, while his building program was magnificent (he built Beit HaMikdash, the port Caesarea and Massada, for example), it also meant there were high taxes to finance all these projects, which made him less than beloved. As a result (and probably because he was a little crazy anyways) he became tremendously insecure and paranoid, killing most of his family (among others).
     Regardless of the sanity (or insanity) of the man who built it (for a visual check out the video from my last post), Herod's Temple was an extraordinary building. Romans from throughout the empire visiting Judea marveled at three things: the Temple, a sea in which everything floats and a day on which no one works. In Judaism, there are three pilgrimage holidays (shalosh regalim in Hebrew): Sukkot, Pesach and Shavuot (all connected to harvests in Israel). During Herod's reign there were certainly tens of thousands (at least) of pilgrims. We saw the special staircase designed to deal with crowds, the alley where the pilgrim might have exchanged his money and bought his sacrifice and the mikveh where he might have purified himself. While it's hard to convey the sense of importance Beit HaMikdash had to Am Yisrael (after all few religions today are based around a central shrine where animals are sacrificed), I think being there, seeing the enormity of the stones used in its building, walking up the southern steps singing the same songs Jewish pilgrims sang (such as Psalm 126, the Song of Ascents, which many Jews sing every Shabbat at the beginning of Birkat HaMazon, the blessing after meals) gives the students got at least some sense of what it was like. They also found a great place for some pictures.

Students at the Southern Wall

     After the Southern Wall the students had free time in the Jewish Quarter of the Old City for lunch. When we reconvened we visited some homes that were likely destroyed along with the Second Temple to try and learn about who might have been living there. We saw beautiful mosaics, tons of mikvehs, and a generally high standard of living. We decided, based on these things together with the apartments location close to Beit HaMikdash, that these were likely the homes of Sadduccees. I then asked the students to consider what sorts of things they have in their homes/rooms and what it might say about them if archaeologists find it 1000 years from now. Will they identify you as more American or more Jewish? Should that matter?

     As we went back outside to finish our class we were assaulted by various members of Am Yisrael. First by dancing Israeli teenagers (special awesome points to Shoshana S and Jenna for having the courage to go join the Israelis first):

     Then it was by a kippah-wearing fellow playing Jewish songs on his guitar:

     After one more interruption by a construction crew we were finally able to resume our history. After Herod was king (37 BCE - 4 BCE) his sons took over for a while, mostly unsuccessfully. The Romans then decided to rule Judea directly, and appointed procurators to that purpose. Like any other government official, some were excellent and many were terrible. For many this was their big chance to make money (one of the keys to advancement in Rome), so they taxed the population as heavily as possible.
     It is with this background--often incompetent and cruel governance, increasing fragmentation among Am Yisrael into various sects--that one of Am Yisrael's greatest tragedies occurred: the destruction of Beit HaMikdash. According to tradition there was a conflict between two Jews in which one of them was publicly embarrassed while the leaders of the Jewish community looked on. Taking the leaders' silence as approval the offended Jew then successfully convinced the Romans that the Jews were planning a revolt, which led to accusations and eventually a real revolt (this is the story of Kamza and Bar Kamza for those who are curious, it starts in the middle of the last paragraph). The scientific/historical reason seems to be a slowly escalating religious tension between Am Yisrael and Pagans, specifically in the Herod-built port of Caesarea. One way or another the Great Revolt (66-70 CE), as it's later called, eventually leads to the destruction of Beit HaMikdash by the Roman general Titus in the year 70. This is arguably the most tragic event in all of Jewish history (and, unfortunately, that's some serious competition) and is still commemorated today. In Jewish wedding ceremonies, for example, the groom breaks a glass, so that even on our happiest day we'll remember this terrible tragedy. How will Judaism, up until now based on Beit HaMikdash, survive? We'll save that for another blog.