Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Abraham's Kiruv

One of the things I enjoy about our religion is the lack of proselytizing (in most branches/denominations). I'm content in my ability to discuss the pros and cons of world religions and be able to say this, especially in contrast to the role of conversion in some other religions' doctrines. I can talk about Ruth and Naomi, of how we hold this story of conversion up and show how it was Ruth's choice; Naomi did not ask her to convert, or reach out to her to do so (in fact, it's quite the opposite). So I find it hard to remember that once upon a time, Judaism was a new religion, actively seeking new "members." Some of the today's readings dealt with Abraham's recruitment efforts, and they made me feel... uncomfortable.
Our father Abraham would bring people into his home, give them food and drink, befriend them, and thus attract them, and then convert them and bring them under the wings of the Presence. (1:3:15)
As I read this, my first thoughts were of Jesus. He preached that sharing meals with neighbours was a great way to convert people. (Or, at least that's how the Apostles have reported it.) While I wouldn't be surprised if there was a shared tradition between Abraham and Jesus, there's still something that seems sneaky, underhanded about this. But I continued reading.
Abraham used to receive wayfarers. After they had eaten and drunk, he would suggest, "Say grace." When they asked, "What shall we say?" he would reply, "[Say], 'Blessed be the everlasting God of the world, of whose bounty we have partaken.'" If the wayfarer, having eaten and drunk, accepted the suggestion and said grace, he would be allowed to depart. But if he refused, Abraham would say, "Pay what you owe me."
Alert! Alert!
When the wayfarer asked, "How much do I owe you?" Abraham would reply [with the cost of the food and drink]. Who do you suppose is giving you the wine in the wilderness? meat in the wilderness? bread in the wilderness?" The wayfarer, now aware that he must either pay or thank God by saying grace, would say [grace]. (1:3:18)
And now I'm feeling more uncomfortable. I understand Abraham's want to share his faith, his appreciation for God. But giving an ultimatum of "see it my way" or "give me payment" when he had kindly invited these unsuspecting, possibly naively unsuspecting, travelers? Not okay. Do we want people to thank God for all that has been provided? Of course. Do we want it to be forced? Hopefully not. This approach feels like that of Chabad: the need is for Jews to perform the mitzvos (commandments), regardless of the kavanah (intention).

If I were to explain Judaism, God, to non-Jews, I wouldn't approach it this way. I'd make it a conversation, make it sound exciting by explaining what aspects excite me, what aspects I enjoy wrestling with. I wouldn't encourage adapting practices that are vacuous, meaningless, or without accompanying faith or belief.

I don't want to end on a negative note though. So I'll also mention that I was excited by the possibility that this section includes sources for birkas hamazon - the grace after meals.

Maybe this post should have been called "Why feygele isn't working in outreach." Oh, wait...

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

College Sophomore

The long Midrash on Avraham (Aggadah 8) is obviously intended very positively. It shows Avraham’s brilliance, courage, and faith in G!d. What more could we ask for in the founder of our people. But if we were to change the content so it was not so positively weighted, would we come to the same positive spin?

First he treats two very old people very badly,
”Woe to a man who is seventy, yet prostrates himself before this thing which was made only today.” and “May the breath of such a woman be blasted! To think that one so old prostrates herself before a god who is only one day old.”

Sure he was "right" but there is such a thing as respect for older people that is found in the tradition. When he sets the scene for his father but destroying his idols, he does the same thing. At that point, Avraham was introducing or reintroducing the concept, of monotheism into the world. Was the best and most moral way to do it, acting like a college sophomore?

It is so easy to treat other people as fools. We (definitely including me) do it all the time, yet is it the best way “to spread the gospel” (inappropriate metaphor?). There are other Midrashim about how many people Avraham and Sarah converted. Maybe Sarah’s influence improved his understanding and respect for others.

Monday, September 15, 2008

Radical Awe vs. Righteous Indignation

The aggadot in this section answer the question "Why Abraham? What was so special about him?" As a reader of the Biblical text, I cannot help but be struck by the suddeness with which Avram bursts upon the scene and, after only six verses of introduction, becomes the protagonist of so many chapters. All of these aggadot relate to this question, but the opposition between the solutions provided by aggadot #5 and #7 seems particularly stark.

I was struck by the extent to which Aggadah #5 describes the spiritual searching of the 3-year old Abraham (I will refer to him as Abraham and not Avram because the aggadah calls him Abraham) as something natural and totally rational. His conclusion that a higher power exists is based only on his observation that in nature, no power reigns supreme. This aggadah seems to postulate a kind of religious "ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny;" that human society itself, in its embrace of monotheism, went through a drawn-out version of the thought process that took Avram only 24 hours. Avram here is symbolic of (or a harbinger of) the change in religious focus that happened throughout human history. This version of why Avram was exceptional comes at the end of an aggadah in which Terah demonstrates his cleverness against Nimrod, so throughout this section, rationality and faith (Terah's faith in his ability to save his own son, for example) make a happy couple. By the way, what's up with the similarities between this one and the Gospel of Matthew? (See ch. 1-2 for similar stars, messengers from the east, prophecies to the king, attempted slaughter of the innocents) Is it just the conventions of Near Eastern mythology in evidence, or something more?

While in aggadah #5, Abraham’s realization about God is triggered by his radical amazement at the wonders of creation, in #7, his recognition is of a more depressing ilk. Aggadah #7 presents the world as a house ablaze (presumably with sin) and the best God can do is assure us that She’s not an absentee landlord? When I first studied this aggadah several years ago, it struck me as a challenging and scary acknowledgement of God’s (self-imposed) limitations on intervening to control the corruption in the world. However, upon re-reading it in the context of these other aggadot that deal with our central question—what in Abraham’s perception of the world allowed him to see God?—I decided that it was more of a statement about how Abraham saw his surroundings. While everyone else in his society was relaxing in comfortable oblivion, Abraham saw the world’s true (and terrifying) state. It is Abraham’s righteous indignation—“Who’s in charge here, and how did he let it all get so out of hand?”—that leads God to seek him out and give him insight.
Aggadot #5 and #7 present us with two different models for religious vision and leadership: that motivated by radical awe, and that motivated by righteous indignation. Let’s track throughout the upcoming chapters how these models play out in our texts.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Sefer Ha-Bloggadah: week 4

It's clear who the star of this week is going to be (though we'll also meet plenty of supporting characters). If you're looking for a refresher, the Abraham stories inspiring this week's reading can be found in Genesis chapters 12-21.

  • Monday - 1:3:1-7 (Our Father Abraham)
  • Tuesday - 1:3:8-10 (Our Father Abraham)
  • Wednesday - 1:3:11-19 (Our Father Abraham)
  • Thursday - 1:3:20-27 (Our Father Abraham)
  • Friday - 1:3:28-35 (Abraham's Prayer and Sodom's Sins)
  • Saturday/Sunday - 1:3:36-43 (Abraham's Progeny)

Apology

When we scheduled the aggadot about the Flood for this weekend, we really didn't mean any harm!!! Sorry about that.



We send our best wishes to everyone who is recovering from Hurricane Ike.

1:2:134--Moderation in All Things, Including Moderation

I'm way too much of a wine lover -- and one who must admit to having had a few too many on a few (too many?) occasions -- to resist this midrash featuring Noah and Satan, with the latter asking if he can help the former plant his vineyard. Satan slaughters over a vine, in succession, a lamb, a lion, a monkey, and finally a pig. The midrash tells us that this was "Satan's way of saying" that after one cup of wine, a man is humble and meek as a lamb; after two cups, a mighty braggart who thinks he's as strong as a lion; after three or four cups, like a monkey, "hopping and giggling, and uttering obscenities in public, without realizing what he is doing;" and, ultimately, blind drunk, he is like a pig, "wallowing in mire and coming to rest among refuse." In conclusion, we are told that all of the above later befell Noah.

Satan appears to be giving some implied advice on moderation. But since it's Satan who's doing the "talking" here, perhaps we ought to take his accuracy, or at least his motives, with a grain a salt. After all, the midrash begins with Satan asking what a vineyard is, and Noah explaining that its fruit is used to make wine, "which gladdens a man's heart." And the midrash does not seem to suggest that Satan imbued wine with the power to effect people in this way: his "charade" is presented as a way of describing the inherent qualities of the wine.

So, does wine really gladden the heart? The Torah and prophets are replete with references supporting this notion. A few examples:

"And you shall spend that money for anything that your soul will desire: for herd and for flock and for wine and for beer and for anything that your soul will ask of you. And you shall eat there in front of YHWH, your God, and you shall rejoice, you and your household." Deuteronomy 14:26

"[God] causes the grass to grow for the cattle . . . and wine that makes glad the heart of man." Psalms 104:14-15

“Should I leave my wine, which cheers God and man, and go to be promoted over the trees?" Judges 9:13

Moreover, an abundance of wine is a blessing from God ("And it shall come to pass in that day, that the mountains shall drop down sweet wine . . . ." Joel 4:18), and a lack of wine marks hardship or even God's judgment ("[B]ecause you trample upon the poor . . . you have planted pleasant vineyards, but you shall not drink wine from them." Amos 5:11).

And, of course, on Pesach we are commanded to drink four cups of wine, most often explained as a commemoration of the so-called "four expressions of redemption" from Egypt: "I am YHWH, and I shall bring you out from under Egypt's burdens, and I shall rescue you from their toil, and I shall redeem you with an outstretched arm and with tremendous judgments, and I shall take you to me as a people, and I shall become your God . . . ." (Exodus 6:6-7) We are expected to become at least a little bit tipsy as a result, and certainly to rejoice with a glad heart. Moreover, notwithstanding the four cups, we are not expected to become unruly monkeys or come to rest in refuse . . . .

In my personal experience, I would say that wine in the "right" amount -- and this varies from person to person -- really does gladden the heart in most cases. It goes without saying that there are exceptions, whether because of the imbiber's tolerance for wine, his or her mental and emotional state when drinking, or both. (And then there's also really bad wine.)

Turning to Satan's "charade," do successive cups of wine really result in the inevitable deterioration described in the midrash? None of these perils are unfamiliar, but I would say these are far less universal than wine's positive effects. Moreover, in my personal experience, the first three stages of the "progression" described might more accurately refer to alternative states of individual drinkers who've had too much: some become quiet and meek, some become aggressive, others become silly to the point of embarrassment. In the end, we all reach our limit and must "come to rest" -- perhaps in the mire and the refuse, but hopefully in our warm bed (or in a taxi) having wished our dinner companions a (somewhat slurred) good night.

The source of the aphorism, "All things in moderation," may be unclear, but its influence in contemporary religious (and especially Christian) circles is quite pronounced. But whereas Christianity seems to place all of the emphasis on the "moderation," Judaism also places some significant amount of importance on the "all things" -- experiencing and enjoying each and every one of the pleasures available to us is a positive good. (Moreover, although Jewish religious tradition has some traces of asceticism, it is uncontroversial to say that Judaism generally and strenuously rejects asceticism -- human appetites and worldly pleasures are viewed as neither unholy nor evil.)

Now, I am not arguing against moderation when it comes to wine or anything else. But as my title indicates, I am fond of the revised version of the aphorism: "Moderation in all things, including moderation." Even moderation is not to observed immoderately. The drinking of wine, even to the point of drunkenness, does not inevitably lead to unattractive drunken behavior; and even if it does, it's ok to get drunk every once in a while. After all, we are told in the end that "all of the above later befell Noah" -- a "virtuous man" who was "unblemished in his generations" and "walked with God." (Genesis 6:9)

We are not only to be mindful of Satan's warning, but also of the possibility of missing out on the wine that gladdens our heart. Perhaps the risk of drinking too much every now and again is better than the risk of not tasting the wine at all.

Thursday, September 11, 2008

This is the Generation of the Flood

Here are some scattered thoughts on the day after the night I took the late train home the day before I have to do it again.

I usually start the day by reading the newspaper. The news is often as it is in today's aggadot-- men's faces turning ape-like as demons work their will upon them. I turn the page and avert my eyes from photographs of corpses flushed out of their graves. There are floods coming, whether in the generation of Enosh or to the coasts of Texas. There is lewd idolatry as men put lipstick on pigs. This is the generation of the flood. Every generation is the generation of the flood.

Although it is said that McCain is the best among his generation, even he, when he noticed a certain woman, took her. He taught her how to name the deeds that would energize his base, but she was not spared from corruption. Even he took two wives, one for his home and one to advance his office. This is the generation of the flood. Every generation is the generation of the flood.

Today, 9/11, is an anniversary of a flood that was sent by a descendant of the demon Shamdon. When the dust had settled, the demons inside us were unleashed but the cord that tied us to our oldest notions of where the true demons resided shaped our response and the House of Shamdon continued to flourish. This is the generation of the flood. Every generation is the generation of the flood.