Archive for category Philosophy

Hurricane Season

With Gustav and Ike causing so much havoc, and the memory of Katrina still painfully close, these thoughts on the Pacific Rim Tsunami may warrant another look.

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The Answer

Intuitively, we believe that it is greater to be virtuous of one’s own initiative than in response to orders.  If so, why does Torah tradition consider it more meritorious to follow commandments than to serve without imposed obligation?  Here’s the most concise answer I’ve seen.

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Tripping over my tzitzis — Parshas Ki Seitzei

There is much symbolism contained in the fringes Torah observant men wear at the waist, and many stories about how those fringes can send a powerful message, sometimes to the wearer and sometimes to the observer. Here’s a little bit of both.

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E-murder and the spirit of the law — Parshas Ki Seitzei

Last week, Federal Judge George Wu refused to dismiss charges against Lori Drew, the middle-aged mother accused of creating a fictitious MySpace persona to befriend and then humiliate 13-year-old Megan Meier, who subsequently took her own life.  The indictment stands, and Ms. Drew will stand trial.

What is the Torah view?  On the one hand, the sages compare embarrassing another person to murder.  All the more so, it might seem, if embarrasment actually leads to loss of life.  On the other hand, Jewish law quite clearly imposes punishment only upon the actual perpetrator, and only in the case of direct cause.  Neither criterion seems to apply to Ms. Drew.

How United States law should address such cases will be, ultimately, determined by the justice system.  But the defending attorney’s assertion that the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act is “unconstitutionally vague” warrants some discussion.

In Deuteronomy 22:8, the Torah commands, “When you build a new house, you must construct a parapet around the roof, so that you incur no guilt of blood if a fallen one falls from it.”

According to the Jewish understanding of Divine Providence, there are no accidents.  If a person stumbles, falls, and dies as a result, then he was already a “fallen one,” i.e., his death had already been decreed on High.

Nevertheless, the Torah obligates us to do all we can to prevent such “accidents.”  The more concern we show for our fellows, the more merit we have collectively and the less our society suffers from incidents of apparently random violence.  If we are careless, abandoning our fellows to fate without regard for how we are integrally connected to them, we bring upon ourselves the guilt of their blood.  It is almost as if we killed them by our own hands.

We all respond with revulsion to the cruelty of psychological harassment, even where it slips through the cracks in the law.  But careless disregard for the well-being of our neighbors is only a little better, and nowhere near good enough by the ethical standards of the Torah.

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The Continuing Battle Against the Ego

As we enter the month of Elul and begin thinking abou the approach of Rosh HaShonah — the Day of Judgment — nothing provides more impetus for self-reflection than the awareness that the Almighty conducts Himself toward us the way we conduct ourselves toward others.  Here is an example of how nothing can be harder, and how nothing can be easier.  This is the kind of hope and change we ought to be thinking about.

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Popularization of Kabbalah

Here’s a primer on the origins and expansion of mysiticism in my Jewish History column today on Jewish World Review.

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Shabbos Nachamu

In his famous explanation of the arei miklat, the cities of refuge to which the perpetrators of unpremeditated murder are exiled, Rashi offers the following case:

The Almighty arranges for two people, each of whom committed an unwitnessed murder, to arrive at the same inn.  One of them, who had committed murder without premeditation, will slip while ascending a ladder and fall onto the other, who had committed murder wantonly and with full intent.  The latter will be killed, as punishment for his crime, and the former will be seen and this time exiled for both killings.  In this way, the True Judge will restore justice.

In Exodus 33:13, Moshe Rabbeinu (Moses the Lawgiver) asks HaShem to “make Your ways known to me.”  The Talmud (Berachos 7a) interprets this to mean that Moshe asked to understand why the righteous suffer and the wicked prosper.  According to the opinion of Rabbi Meir, HaShem did not grant Moshe’s request. The following story, presumably of midrashic origin, offers an insight into why such understanding is beyond us:

In the first case, HaShem allowed Moshe to witness a scene where an elderly general stopped to drink at a well.  As he leaned over to drink, the general’s money pouch fell from his pocket, after which he continued his journey unaware of his loss.  A short time later, a young man came along and discovered the money pouch.  With no one in sight and no distinguishing characteristics on the pouch, he kept the money for himself.

After a while, the general noticed that he was missing his money.  He retraced his steps until he arrived back at the well, which he surmised must be the place where he had lost his money.  He looked around and spotted an old man sleeping under a tree near the well.  The general accosted the man and accused him of being a thier.  When the man pleaded ignorance, the general flew into a rage and beat him to death.

Upon hearing the case, Moshe replied that the verdict was obvious:  the general deserves to die for killing the old man, and the young traveler must return the money to the general’s heirs.  Without commenting on Moshe’s  conclusion, HaShem presented him with the second case. 

A merchant and a young lieutenant were traveling together by carriage when a highway man blocked the road and demanded their money.  The merchant struggled to keep his money bag; in the course of their robber killed the merchant and flees.

The young lieutenant gave chase, but lost the robber in the woods.  However, as he was returning to the carriage, he discovered the merchant’s money bag, which the robber had apparently dropped as he took flight.  The lieutenant picked up the money bag and kept it for himself.

Once again, Moshe declared that the verdict is obvious:  the robber deserves death for killing the merchant, and the lieutenant must return the money to the merchant’s heirs.

HaShem then asked Moshe:  what would you say if I told you that the second story happened thirty years before the first story, and that the general in the first story was the lieutenant in the second?  The money he lost was equal to the money he had kept.  And what would you say if I told you that the old man in the first story was the robber in the second?  He was killed for the murder he committed.  And what would you say if I told you that the young traveler in the first story was the son of the merchant in the first?  The money returned to its rightful place.

And so you see, explained HaShem to Moshe, all human history is interconnected, and no event can be understood in isolation.  Without seeing the whole span of creation from beginning to end, no one can judge with absolute truth.  In each generation, judges are required to judge based on the evidence available to them.  That which is hidden from them will be dealt with either through hashgocha pratis — divine providence — or at the End of Days, when ultimate justice will be done.

Perhaps this is what the prophet means when he says in the Haftorah:  Every valley shall be raised, and every mountain shall be leveled… Revealed shall be the glory of HaShem, and all flesh as one shall see that the mouth of HaShem has spoken.

All the obstacles, all the highs and lows and twists and turns that seem to hinder us in our journey through life, all these will one day become like nothing —  not because they were figments of our imagination, but because they were placed before us to make us stronger and force us to achieve our potential by overcoming them.

When we are shown how we benefited from our suffering, when senselessness is shown to make sense, that will be our greatest comfort:  nachamu, nachamu ami — Be comforted, be comforted, My children.

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Olympic effort

In the men’s 400 meter swimming relay, four of the teams broke the previous world record.  Imagine turning in a world record performance and not even winning a medal! 

The way of the world is to recognize objective accomplishment.  In competition, second place is merely a footnote even if it is blindingly fast, and first place garners all the honors even if it is ploddingly slow.

Nevertheless, competition produces greater achievement.  In the same way that records are made to be broken by establishing a reachable mark, evenly matched competitors may spur one another to levels of performance beyond what any one of them could attain individually.  The same is true spiritually and morally:  communal pressure to adhere to a higher standard compels all of us to conduct ourselves with greater responsibility, while the abandonment of standards legitimizes even the most corrupt kinds of behavior.  There is no such thing as a victimless crime.

Ultimately, each of us competes only against himself, and the champion is the one who fulfills his own individual potential by resisting the ceaseless pull of his personal inclination to do evil.  G-d doesn’t grade on a curve, nor does He favor those endowed with natural talent.

Who is mighty?  asks the mishna.  The one who conquers his impulses.  Whether or not I’m better than the next guy makes no difference.  All that matters is whether I’m the best that I can be.

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Post-Tisha B’av reflections

Spent Tisha B’av afternoon watching a 5-hour documentary on Auschwitz.  What struck me most was the motivation for the SS innovation of gassing their victims as a replacement for firing squads.  True, they sought efficiency in mass-murder.  But a more immediate concern was the psychological and emotional effect upon the executioners.  Incredibly, the same generals who worried that mass-execution might turn their soldiers into “either neurotics or brutes” were incapable or unwilling to entertain even the most fleeting notion that any act having such an effect upon their men had to be intrinsically evil.

 

This is truly the character of Amoleik, which defines good and evil not in terms of absolute morality but only in terms of pragmatic self-interest.

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Truth and Faithfulness — Shabbos Chazon

Mercy and justice.  Reason and intuition.  Truth and faithfulness.  These are the qualities that the ba’alei machshava, the teachers of profound insight and mysticism, associate with the two aspects of creation — male and female.  The more overt and external qualities describe masculinity, where the more subtle and internal qualities describe femininity.

 

Justice derives from the intuitive recognition that everything in creation ultimately conforms to the will of the Creator of all; mercy derives from the reasoned conclusion that the function of free will is to influence the world in which we live.  Logic dictates that life is an active search for truth, where faithfulness dictates patience and restraint.  In the evening prayer, as we conclude our reaffirmation of our national mission through the recitation of Shema Yisroel, we immediately assert emes v’emunah kol zos — true and faithful is all this [that we have just declared].  Either one without the other is not sufficient; male or female by itself is incomplete.

 

When Adam and Chava (Eve) transgressed the word of G-d in Eden, Adam betrayed his Creator through misuse of his inclination toward truth by rationalizing his decision to eat from the forbidden fruit, where Chava betrayed her Creator by failing to be faithful to the mission that had been given her.  Created perfect and immortal, man and woman forfeited immortality and would have to begin the long process of working their way back to perfection.

 

Consequently, Adam was punished through a curse upon the earth:  by the sweat of your brow shall you eat bread.  Already assigned the more active role, Adam and his male descendants would have to toil merely to survive; spiritual achievement and perfection would not proceed naturally as they would have according to the original design.

 

Chava was punished through a curse upon her capacity to produce the next generation:  in pain will you bear children.  Moreover, the passive role assigned her would become even more pronounced:  Your passion will be for your husband, and he will have dominion over you.  The sign of Chava’s transgression would be the blood of niddah, her monthly cycle, symbolizing the death she had brought into the world by breaking faith.

 

This Shabbos, which precedes the week of Tisha B’av and our observance of national mourning, is called Shabbos Chazon after the opening words of the Haftorah, the weekly reading from the Prophets.  Scripture describes the prophet Isaiah’s vision of the Jews’ suffering in and ultimate redemption from exile.  Says the prophet in the name of the Almighty:  [I]f your sins will be like scarlet, they will become white like snow…

 

The Chassidic classic Me’or VaShemesh offers a deeper insight into the accentuated passivity imposed upon Chava and manifested through the blood of niddah.  Because G-d always prepares the cure before the affliction, He built into the system of biology the means for rectification.  When a woman conceives, the blood of niddah stops; after she gives birth, the flow of blood does not immediately resume but is replaced by the production of milk to sustain her nursing child.  The scarlet of sin becomes transformed into whiteness like snow as the woman, condemned to increased passivity by the first woman’s misdeed, now becomes an active participant in producing and nurturing the future of mankind.

 

When we become absorbed in our own agendas, our own projects, and our own priorities, we become passive in the sense that we turn ourselves inward with no concern for the world around us.  We become resentful of those around us whom we perceive as impediments to our success as they pursue their own individual goals.  This leads to the kind of corruption and divisiveness that brought about the destruction of the First and Second Temples respectively.

 

However, when we look beyond ourselves, when we define our sense of purpose as members of a larger whole and direct our efforts for the benefit of the community around us, then we become true givers.  By combining the logic of truth with the commitment of faithfulness, by recognizing that we cannot succeed individually but only in concert with the whole, may we earn the merit to see the scarlet of our sins permanently transformed into the white purity of snow and thereby hasten the rebuilding of the Third Temple, speedily and in our days.

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