Friday, August 21, 2009

Ki Tetzei, Revenge, and "Inglourious Basterds"

Dear Friends,

I thought you might like to read this article from Friday's Wall Street Journal, timed to the release of the new Quentin Tarantino movie, "Inglourious Basterds," a fable about a band of American Jews sent into Vichy France to scalp Nazis, and culminating in the gruesome torture and death of high-ranking Nazi officials.

I saw the film as a guest of the author of the article, Jordana Horn, who quotes some of the discussion we shared after viewing it on August 13 at a special screening and Q&A with Mr. Tarantino at the Museum of Jewish Heritage.

The article references a possible application of the Bible's Amalek tradition, which is taken from the final lines of this week's parasha, Ki Tetzei, and comprises its maftir, or last (and traditionally repeated) aliyah.

Wishing you a good week of study, and I'll see you on Saturday...
Jonathan

Monday, August 17, 2009

"I Will Be So Brief I Have Already Finished" - Salvador Dali, World's Shortest Speech

Dear Friends,

I am taking in the sights (and yes, some of the food too) in Paris so my comments this week will be exceedingly brief. Fortunately I have no doubt that you will find ample material in Parashat Shoftim to discuss without much (or any) prompting on my end.

Consider Deuteronomy 16:18-20, the opening verses of this week's portion and some of the most inspiring lines in all of Torah.

Now juxtapose these lines with the recent deliberations culminating in the swearing-in of Associate Justice Sonia Sotomayor to the United States Supreme Court on August 6, 2009.

As you allow this dramatic symbol of the American judicial system to intersect with this week's Torah teaching, how do you see each commenting on the other?

I look forward to seeing your comments online and I'll miss seeing you on Saturday!

Happy studying....
J.E.B.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

What's the Center of Your Jewish World? Reflections on Re'eh

Consider Deuteronomy 12:1-14ff. which discusses a radical program of religious reform (sometimes called the "Deuteronomic Reformation") undertaken in the 7th Century BCE. Chief among the reforms undertaken at this time was a program of centralization of Israelite worship in the city of Jerusalem, at a central shrine or Temple.

Reading this passage prompts me to consider questions of our present-day Jewish identity. What place, if any, constitutes our "Jewish center?" Is it still Jerusalem? Or perhaps your own local community? Or even your home? Can we even speak meaningfully of a "center" for Jewish life when the real shape of the Jewish world today is not a circle with one center, but an ellipse, a shape with two poles, one in America and one in Israel, the two places where the vast majority of the world's Jews now reside?

Please consider the video below and comment!
Happy Studying.

L'Shalom,
Rabbi Jonathan Blake

video

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

New Words Inscribed on Old Tablets


Dear friends,
I have elected to re-print here a column originally published last year for the URJ publication "Reform Voices of Torah." I apologize to the repeat readers. However, it's a message that I find perennially topical.


(Image of "Moses Smashing the Tablets" by Rembrandt)




Reform Voices of Torah - Eikev 5768

Rabbi Jonathan E. Blake


New Words Inscribed On Old Tablets


Parashat Eikev presents itself as a sermonic address by Moses to the Israelites, whose principal theme is a reaffirmation of the Sinai covenant. At the center of this address, Moses narrates a version of the events that transpired at Sinai: how he went up the mountain for forty days and forty nights to retrieve God’s tablets; how, upon descending, he encountered the molten calf and in his rage smashed the tablets; how—putting his anger aside—he convinced God not to destroy the people, despite their defiance.


“Thereupon the Eternal One said to me,” Moses continues, “‘Carve out two tablets of stone like the first, and come up to Me on the mountain; and make an ark of wood. I will inscribe on the tablets the commandments that were on the first tablets that you smashed, and you shall deposit them in the ark.’” (Deut. 10:1-2).


Commenting here, the 13th-Century Spanish exegete Nachmanides (RaMBaN) interprets Moses’ meaning: “‘After I cast myself down [in supplication] before the Eternal One for forty days and forty nights, [God] was acquiescent to me that that I should write the second Tablets. However, the first ones were the work of God, and “the writing was the writing of God” (Ex. 32:16), whereas with these, God instructed me that they should be hewn by my hands, and the writing should be like the original writing which was by God’s finger.’” (Nachmanides ad loc., translation by J. Blake, emphasis added).


Nachmanides is clear: God inscribed the first set of Tablets; but a mortal, Moses, carved the second. God specifically charged Moses to make the second tablets like the first, but Moses would guide the chisel. Human hands would now reify God’s thoughts.


Moses’ tablet-making provides an apt metaphor for our own religious enterprise.


Reform Judaism recognizes the age-old impulse in Judaism not only to preserve ancient wisdom but also to apply mortal hands to its evolution. That a text or tradition must undergo scrutiny in every age is a standard cherished in Reform Judaism. Each new generation inscribes its wisdom on the tablets of the old. Text and commentary, intertwined one after another, constitute the warp and woof of our Jewish tapestry.


In some cases we have deemed ancient laws outmoded and thus dispensable. We have, as it were, smashed old tablets. Such trends we can observe even in the Bible itself. It is clear, for instance, that when the Torah says, “Parents should not be put to death for children, nor children be put to death for parents: one shall be put to death only for one’s own crime” (Deut. 24:16), this ruling “indicates the need for counteracting certain then-prevailing conditions [the likes of which the Bible elsewhere records]” (Plaut, p. 1340). The Torah demolishes old norms of collective punishment and inscribes in their place a new principle.


Rabbinic literature is littered with the detritus of Biblical dicta no longer functional. Rules pertaining to the sacrificial cult, for instance, are explained away as impossible to implement so long as the ancient Temple lies in ruins and the priesthood remains relegated to ceremonial functions.


Reform Judaism has also smashed once-sturdy tablets. In November of 1885, Rabbi Kaufmann Kohler of New York convened a delegation of Reform rabbis with Isaac Mayer Wise presiding. At this meeting in Pittsburgh, the leaders adopted a seminal text (now informally known as the “Pittsburgh Platform”). The following passage illustrates how Reform Judaism, at certain stages of its development, has unabashedly rejected old norms:


“We hold that all such Mosaic and rabbinical laws as regulate diet, priestly purity, and dress originated in ages and under the influence of ideas entirely foreign to our present mental and spiritual state. They fail to impress the modern Jew with a spirit of priestly holiness; their observance in our days is apt rather to obstruct than to further modern spiritual elevation.”


Sometimes, it should be noted, we have put the pieces of the old tablets back together again! Witness how many Reform Jews of late have adopted Jewish dietary practices and the wearing of tallitot, kippot, and even tefillin in sharp distinction to the 19th-century attitudes espoused above!


Evoking Moses on the mountain, our ever-evolving faith has also seen fit to inscribe new meanings upon old tablets. The ancient Rabbis famously interpreted the Bible’s harsh “eye for an eye, life for a life” legislation of retribution (lex talionis) to mean that a person would owe money for inflicting a wound (“an eye’s worth for an eye,” etc.)—but that God forbid one should pay with his limb or his life for an injury! This radical re-interpretation of Biblical law is a hallmark of the Rabbinic imagination.


So too in Reform practice. These words from another gathering of Reform rabbis, again in Pittsburgh, in 1999, speak to our endeavor: “We are committed to the ongoing study of the whole array of mitzvot and to the fulfillment of those that address us as individuals and as a community. Some of these mitzvot, sacred obligations, have long been observed by Reform Jews; others, both ancient and modern, demand renewed attention as the result of the unique context of our own times.”


In particular, our Movement’s egalitarian emphasis has made it necessary to write a new layer of sacred interpretation upon the old norms. We embrace ceremonies to welcome baby girls into the covenant of the Jewish people, the ordination and investiture of women as rabbis and cantors, and the newly published The Torah: A Women’s Commentary which exemplifies our thoughtful interweaving of ancient concerns and modern demands.


There are no stone tablets anymore. We have only parchment scrolls and fragile books—all deservedly revered for the wisdom they offer. But they don’t get the last word. By engaging in Torah study you become part of the story. You, dear reader, are already participating in the next chapter, soon to be written upon the old.