Am I a grammar prude?

There are 2 songs that really, really bug me when I hear them. 

They particularly get to me because, if not for their very blatant english mistakes, I'd actually like them.  A lot. 

The first is Kid Rock's All Summer Long. The mistake in this song is not actually the grammar, but the poetry style:

"We were trying different things/we were smoking funny things/making love out by the lake/all summer long."

It's a really catchy chorus, but as it gets stuck in my head, I keep saying "You can't rhyme a word with itself." And this perpetuates the song getting stuck in my head, because I keep thinking about how wrong it is. 

The other song is "Don't phunk with my heart" by The Black Eyed Peas.  First of all, funk is not a verb. I don't care what anybody says about language being controlled by the ones who speak it, they are wrong if they think some celebrity rock band can legitimately change grammar by mimicking an incorrect way of speaking used by uneducated, low class individuals. And don't even get me started about the spelling. 

These things bug me, alright? Please people, don't assume your audience are a bunch of ignoramuses, because "if you build it, they will come."

Hishtadlut: Putting in Effort

"In Jewish tradition, it is believed that by preparing for a certain event, one helps the event come about. For example, many single people buy an article of clothing which they will use for their weddings in orders to help bring about that day. (This concept is called Hishtadlout)."

-From a facebook group for a tzipiyah.com event which invites everyone to join them at the Beit HaMikdash on Tisha B'av, with the coming of Mashiach. 

Not quite. In my book, this concept is called voodoo, or depending on the perspective, planning in advance. I know a couple of girls who bought head scarves while they were in Israel, even though they weren't anywhere close to getting married, because they didn't know when the next time they would be back would be, and the scarves are much cheaper in Israel than in America. 

Hishtadlut would be going out on dates, asking friends if they know anyone who'd be good for you, etc. Really, it's anything pro-active in finding someone to get married to. Buying a wedding veil won't help you find the right person. It's not pro-active in finding the right person, it's pro-active in planning the perfect wedding. But the person should come first. 

Diversity in the Office

Here is a recent conversation between a co-worker and I. This particular woman was hired because she speaks Spanish, and many of our customers speak only Spanish. 

Her: Now why would someone have put the file for "Smith-Carrey, Heidi" after "Smith, Veronica"?

Me: Because we file first by last names, then by first names.

Her: But C comes before V, so Carrey comes before Veronica.

Me: Yes, but Carrey is part of her last name. Her last name is "Smith-Carrey". So you do all the Smiths, and then you start doing all the "Smith-Carrey".

Her: OK, but see this name starts with a C and this name starts with a V. The C name should be first. This is why I can't ever find the files that I need. People just don't know how to file around here.

Me: Yeah, that's a problem alright.

Seeing the Silver Lining

Last summer, I bought a new laptop. My old laptop was stolen out of the trunk of my car while I was on vacation in New Orleans (Incidentally, my father had actually expressed concern that I was going there specifically because he had heard that the crime rate is now especially terrible).

I loved my old laptop. It was a little big and bulky, but it did everything I needed, and it did it fast. It had all the cool, little features that I liked, like the fact that I could close it and it would automatically go into sleep mode, and then I could open it and it would wake up again. It had all my programs on it, which admittedly aren't many, but still, important. It had a lot of my music on it, and many of my pictures as well. The pictures weren't quite as big of an issue, since most of them were online or printed already, but still, they were there. Since it was the summer, I didn't any papers or things I was in the middle of working on that were lost, which was extremely lucky. In any case, it was a good lesson in the importance of backing up files. My new best friend is now my USB flash drive.

In any case, I had to buy a new computer. I shopped around, spoke to my brother, who is my go-to person when it comes to anything with a cord, and finally chose one I liked, that was in my price range, which was quite low, considering that my parents weren't helping me out ("This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't gone to New Orleans like we wanted").

The computer had everything I needed, and there was nothing noticeably wrong with it. But for some reason, it didn't feel like it was "mine" yet. I would type out my papers, do research online, do the facebook/email/onlysimchas procrastination thing, but it just didn't feel the same. The buttons weren't the same, the tabs weren't in the same places, and worst of all, it was Windows Vista, which I have learned is a horrid operating system.

It reminded me of something I heard in Seminary. Once a week, the head of Darchei Binah, Rabbi Kurland, would give a weekly talk. The class was officially called "Modern Halachik Problems", and to paraphrase the description of the class given to us on our first day, "Sometimes I [Rabbi Kurland] will talk about modernity, sometimes I'll talk about halacha, and sometimes I'll just talk about problems".

One week, around the halfway point of the year, he spoke about Getting All You Can Out of Your Time in Israel. He said that the year was half way over, and that it was time to embrace all that seminary offered. It was way past the time girls should have been rethinking their decisions. The "what ifs", he said, were the biggest reason why girls weren't happy. "What if I had gone to a different school?" "What if I didn't go to Israel at all?" The past was over and, at that point, it wasn't realistic to change. He went on to list things you COULD do, if you didn't feel you were getting everything you expected from seminary. Take different classes, put more effort into the classes you were already taking, make meetings with teachers, come over to his house, etc.

I didn't particularly like that speech, but I could feel him speaking straight to me. He was funny like that. Every single class of his I felt was tailor made for me. I wasn't too fond of Darchei Binah while I was there, and if I had it to do all over again I probably would have chosen a different school, but I learned a lot that year, and not just about "where I didn't want to be", which is what I told people who asked about it afterwards. I really do owe a lot to my teachers. I'm in the middle of preparing a Shavuos shiur on Rut, and I'm taking much of it from my seminary notes. My skills have multiplied, and I really believe that I have become a much more open-minded person due to my time at Darchei Binah.

It took me over two years to realize all that. I wonder if it's the same for my computer. It's been a year, and I still don't like my computer. It just doesn't feel like me. I don't know what a me computer feels like, but it doesn't randomly freeze when I spend too much time online, it doesn't take ten minutes to start up, and it doesn't block limewire (which I use for completely legal reasons, mind you ;) I don't know if in another year I'll look back at this computer and think, what a great laptop that was, but I hope so. I also hope it doesn't actually take a year.

Reasons I heart UMD, part 1

-I was doing a research project, and the book I needed had been checked out of the library. So I hopped on the metro, went to the Library of Congress, got an official "researcher card", and did my research there.is Anyone who has not experienced the awesomeness of being in the same building as every single book published in the United States since it's founding in 1776 is missing out.
-I donated blood yesterday, and they provided me with Kosher for Passover Coke and marshmallows.
-3 Jewish A Capella groups. 'Nuff Said.

Practical Halacha for Pluaralists

I was invited to eat at a friend's apartment last Friday night. I have been really busy lately, and haven't been around much, but this weekend I happened to be free. I had not seen this particular friend, and really wanted to spend some much needed time catching up with her.

However, there were few potential problems with this meal:

1. While they consider themselves "kosher", she and the rest of her apartment mates actually keep "kosher style", in which they do not check for hechserim, but will not eat any non-kosher meat, will not eat anything that mixes meat and milk (though they will eat non-hechshered cheese-apparently the mixing of renerts with curd isn't enough basar v'chalav for them), and will avoid any products with xanthan gum listed in the ingredients.

2. Both the door to enter her building and the door to enter her apartment require a electronic swipe card.

3. She lives on the 10th floor of her building

4. She is what I call "Zachor Shabbat". While she does keep Shabbat as a day of rest, she will occasionally do things that Shomer Shabbat Jews will avoid, such as turning off and on lights, and turning off and on ovens.

I wanted to eat with her, and I did not want to do anything not acceptable by Orthodox Jewish halacha.

Some would suggest avoiding the situation all together. One friend said, "This is why alot of people have the custom not to eat anything cooked by people who are non-Shomer Shabbat." It's just not worth it, they'd say. You never know what could happen. A million things could go wrong in a situation like that. Someone who doesn't follow the halacha isn't going to be as careful as someone who does.

First off, that last statement is just not true. I've seen plenty of "Orthodox", "Observant" people who "accidentally" flip on lights that they forgot to set before Shabbat, or pick out all the tomatoes from their salad because, well, tomatoes taste slimey and they just get in the way. It's not that all Orthodox people aren't careful, it's just that Orthodoxy does not by definition include careful attention to all details of halacha as part of it's mission statement of sorts. And many times, it's the non observant people that will go above and beyond the call of "hostess duty" in order to make their guests feel more comfortable.

Let me share what happened in this particular case:

She asked me to take her shopping a few days before Shabbat. Because I was with her, I could say things like "Does your salad dressing at home have a hechsher on it?" She wanted to do everything she could in order to make me comfortable eating at her home, and she was aware that our standards of kashrut are different. I never put it as "I keep kosher and you don't", though in my mind I regard her apartment as non-kosher, but I say "you and I have different standards of kashrut." Not once has she gotten offended by this. (She and I are close enough that she would tell me, or at least I'd be able to tell by her facial rections.)

I asked her if I could come over Thursday night to help her cook. In this, I accomplished two goals. First off, I got to spend some quality time with her, while also reducing the amount of time needed to actually cook the meal. Second, I could serve as the unofficial mashgiach. She had already agreed to cook things in disposable pans covered with two layers of foil, and when she needed to cook meatballs in a pot, I told her she could borrow one from me.

Actually getting into her apartment required some thought. One of her roomates was not planning on going to services, so we asked her if she wouldn't mind staying in the apartment until we got there, and therefore she could let us in the door.

Getting into the building was a little trickier. We waited until other people went into the building, and followed behind them. The biggest problem was getting up the 10 flights. I didn't mind walking the steps (and as it turned out, neither did 6 out of the 10 others who were with me), but the door to the steps is locked at the first floor, for security purposes. So, my friend told me what she was going to do was go up in the elevator and come down and open the door for us. I wasn't a hundred percent comfortable with that, until someone pointed out that we are in no way asking her to do melacha. She has to go up to her apartment anyway. Now, she could leave her apartment, walk down the stairs, open the door for us, and then walk back up the stairs with us. Or she, of her own free will, can take whatever combination of elevator and stairs she wanted. Turns out, she took the elevator to the second floor, walked down to the first floor, and then walked back up with us to the tenth. It was an experience.

My point in telling over this whole story is that I could have just said, "No, thank you. It sounds great but I'll be unable to come." But instead, I chose to make it work. In regards to Michael Broyde, I'd like to say that, with all due respect, you're wrong. Orthodoxy can in fact be supportive of and encourage pluralism. It's what makes this religion great.

Maturity and Halacha

“Any man who is under 30 and is not a liberal has no heart; any man who is over 30 and is not a conservative has no brains.”

-Winston Churchill (or not)

Many young people, in the context of college, yeshivah, or seminary, like to spend their time discussing issues of policy. Specifically, in the Orthodox Jewish world, issues pertaining to halacha. During the year that I spent in Israel, I had many such conversations with peers about issues as the kashrut status of Rabanut Yerushalayim, saying hallel on Yom HaAtzmaut, and the role of kiruv within the Jewish community. We also discussed things like tzniut and mandatory army service in Israel.

It’s funny how as a 17 year old teenager, I could be SO convinced that my position was right. Most of my opinions haven’t changed objectively since then, but this past weekend, I had an enlightening experience.

I spent shabbos with a family that I respect a lot. I had never actually met them before, but they are the cousins of a close friend of mine. This close friend and I wanted to spend shabbos together, and she asked her cousins to host. It was the type of place that, after being there for only a couple of hours, I felt like I’d known them my entire life. They told me to make myself at home, and I did. The wife and I spent the entire weekend joking around, as if we were old friends. I teased the 14 year old cousin as if he was my own little brother. I spoke with their 16 year old about various options for college (His school starts having college guidance meetings in 10th grade? What??)

The wife is an attorney at a fancy law firm in New York City. She covers her hair outside of her home, but not when she’s at work. That’s when it hit me. I have dreams of going to law school and working a large firm like hers. I never for a minute have doubted whether or not I would cover my hair. Of course I would. The question was always, how? I don’t really like the idea of sheitels. What’s the point of covering hair with hair?
“It’s a way for women to follow halacha, while at the same time feeling comfortable with their appearances” always seemed like a weak argument for me. In Israel, I decided that I would only cover my hair with hats or scarves-a blatant declaration of my status as an Orthodox, married woman.

I started thinking about her situation, and how odd it was that she didn’t cover her hair at work. Then I thought, what will I do in that situation? Wear a hat, like the 60 year old southern ladies going out for tea? Wear a scarf, like a twenty-something teenage wannabe? I couldn’t think of a single option that would be appropriate in a business environment, with the exception of a sheitel, which, of course, the 17 year old me had decided was inappropriate.

Later on, the issue of national army service came up. Of COURSE boys who don’t want to go to Yeshiva should serve in the army, right? Sure, in theory. But Israel is in the middle of a WAR!! Going to the army means signing up for war. Can I really handle that? Do I want to place my children in a position that forces them to be in life threatening situations? No, not really. No amount of Zionism is going to change that. Land can’t bring back a dead child.

Maybe the year in Israel is for exactly this purpose. Maybe the flipping out is a good thing. Even if people don’t end up sticking with all the changes they make in Israel, they will be able to separate the things they do/don’t do because of halachic ideals from the those that they do/don’t do because of personal comfort. And that’s an important distinction.

With Streets Paved in Gold

Every summer since I was about 12 years old, I’ve worked in my father’s check cashing store. For those of you who don’t know how check cashing works, it’s basically banking for transient workers. Many times people receive checks, but do not have bank accounts to deposit the checks into. Other times, the banks hold the checks for somewhere between 7-14 days to verify it before dispensing funds, but the worker can’t wait a couple of weeks to get his money. That’s where check cashers come in. The workers bring their checks to the establishment, we verify that the check is legit-a process that some how takes us several minutes, yet takes banks several weeks-and give them the money, minus a small fee. Then, the check casher deposits the check into their own bank account.

I generally work in the verification department. I’ve learned a lot about check fraud from it, too. When the movie Catch Me if You Can came out, I wasn’t so surprised to see what he pulled off, as I had seen or heard about many of those schemes before. One extremely popular form of check fraud is for someone outside of America to send some sort of email explaining how they have unfortunately come into a difficult situation. They own a business in their home country that deals with international clients, and the clients send them checks that can only be deposited in the United States of America. These “business owners” propose that they will send the check to to this contact person, the contact person will cash the check and then wire the money to the business owner in the foreign country, keeping, of course, a small percentage for their troubles. It seems like a win-win situation to the unsuspecting contact person.

The problem is, of course, these checks are complete forgeries. Most check cashers can spot them right away, but apparently, there are still a few that can’t (or don’t). When the check is denied, its up to the one who cashed it to pay back the check, plus a fine, plus serve jail time if the police are called. The one who cashed it, however, doesn’t have the money anymore, as they have already wired it out of the country.

There is an older woman who works in my office, and when discussing this situation, she says, “It’s such a shame that these crooks play to the emotions of caring Americans. All these people want to do is help someone in an unfortunate situation, and they end up getting screwed over.”

For a while, that’s how I thought of the situation as well. That is, until yesterday, when I received such an email. The subject line didn’t read “please help me” or “my friend needs your assistance”. It said “Make $100, just by depositing a check.” For fear of viruses, I didn’t open up the whole email, but my email server shows a preview of the message. It was written in really bright, flashy, colors, with lots of exclamation points, and a decidedly upbeat attitude.

It was then that I realized, these people aren’t playing towards American’s emotions, they’re playing towards American’s greed. They’re not so naïve to think that Americans will really care about some poor suffering businessman in Nigeria, they know that the only thing on the minds of most Americans is how to make an extra buck or two. And by the popularity of their schemes, they seem to be right.

All in the name of Miss Manners

There are really not very many people that I Dislike. Some I like more than others, and obviously, I would prefer to spend my time with those. However, there is one particular person who really bothers me, and would fall into the “Dislike” category. He’s extremely socially awkward, but that’s not what bothers me. I’m friends with an alarmingly large amount of socially awkward folks.

No, what bothers me about this guy is one particular incident. The first time I met him was at a Shabbos meal. He happened to be sitting next to me, and throughout the meal, did not talk very often, but did turn his head so that it was perpendicular to his neck.

I finally asked him why he was doing that, and he answered that he likes to look at the world from various paradigms. Clearly, the most literal way of doing so is to actually turn your head. (?) Well, I let that go, and continued to make conversation with someone else.

Now, apparently, this guy thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world to turn his head at an angle whenever he sees me. I’m going to be frank, and say that this creeps me out. A lot. So I tend to avoid this guy.

Well, last Shabbos, I was making a meal in my apartment. The guest list turned out to have 5 girls and 1 guy. I was a little uncomfortable with this ratio, so I decided I needed to invite more guys. Problem is, it’s winter break, and there’s just not that many guys here over break. However, I do have 2 other guy friends who are here.

But now, I ran into another problem. These 2 guys are roommates, and guess who roommate number 3 is. Yep, Creepy Guy.

I couldn’t invite both the others without inviting the 3^rd (I’m not THAT rude), but I wanted to avoid Creepy Guy at all costs. So I had to make a decision-which friend to invite. I hated making the decision, but I did.

The meal turned out fabulous (I even made challah and babganoush for the first time!), and the 2:5 ratio wasn’t a problem at all. Still, I really wish Creepy Guy would just do me a really big favor and transfer schools. Please?

On Rabbinic Authority

***

I’ve heard way too many people, in and out of the blogosphere, rant about the annoyance of computers erasing unsaved files. So I’m not going to rant about it, just politely mention that I wrote out possibly one of my best works, and it got erased. I don’t know how, it just did. Therefore, what you are reading is actually the concise outline version.

***

Actually, I wrote this when I was in seminary. Back in the day, I didn't know from such things as saving copies of work you turned it. I wrote it, gave it to the teacher, and was done with it. Oops, didn't know I'd actually want to look back at it.

***

We had to write an honors thesis on a topic of out choice, and I wrote about emunat chachamim. It’s a topic that many people talk about, but not too much has been written on*, probably because of the lack of halachic basis.

When people asked me what my thesis was, I responded, “The concept of emunat chamim, as defined as the requirement to obey the word of one’s personal rabbi, is in actuality a falsity propagated by some self-righteous so-called rabbis for the purposes of creating their own congregational flock, and has no halachic backing” Of course, I couldn’t actually write that, so I toned it down a bit, but that was the general idea.

The words “emunat chachamim” are found in the mishnah, Avot 6:6. The mishnah lists ways to achieve greatness in torah, one of which is “emunat chachamim”. Other ways listed are study, listening, verbalizing, comprehension of the heart, debating with students, and minimizing sleep.

None of the classical commentators say that the presence of “faith in the sages” in this mishnah means that followers should follow every single thing their rabbi says. Instead, they offer explanations such as “faith that their ways are just”. Meaning, when one has the mindset that their teacher is coming from a misguided or wrong perspective, they can not truly internalize the message that the teacher is trying to give over. Therefore, the mishnah warns not to second guess teachers’ intentions, but to be faithful that they are honestly trying to convey something of life altering significance. There are other interpretations, but I liked that one the best. No other interpretation called for sheep-like diligence to the command of the rabbi-sage.

What sort of halachic proof do people like to use to prove that rabbis do indeed have divine authority? Well, the most famous source is a verse in devarim which says “Do not turn from the thing [that they have told you] right or left.] Rashi on that verse adds that “even if they tell you that left is right and right is left, do not deviate from it” Rashi’s reasoning is that it is more important for the Jewish people to be unified than to actually be following the ‘more correct’ halacha.

The first thing, which for some reason is very often overlooked (selective Bible-quoting, if you will) is that this verse is not referring to individual rabbis at all, but rather to the
Sanhedrin. It’s part of a list of laws delineating how the Sanhedrin operates. Rashi’s notes here are now easily understandable. When the entire Jewish population follows the ruling of one central governing body, the community is more closely bound together and united as one cohesive group. K’ish Echad B’lev Echad.

Today’s society has turned “don’t deviate left or right” completely on it’s head. We’ve deviated so far from the original intention of the verse that the exact opposite is happening. By pretending that congregational rabbis have the same status as Sanhedrin, we have actually created many more division and separation within the Jewish community. When parents choose to send their kids to public school, rather than a Jewish school of a different “mehalikh’, when young people refuse to date someone based on what hat they wear, when friendships are lost forever because of synagogue feuding, you know that it just has to be a perversion of torah ethics.

Perhaps this is why Jewish prayer emphasizes the re-establishment of Sanhedrin. “Restore the judges to the way they were at first, and the advisors like in the beginning.” This yearing for an earlier time is important not simply because it signifies the Messianic era, but also because it signifies the end of the era of machloket, and the beginning of the era of unity.

**I'm referring to classical Jewish works.

So I was in Annapolis today...

Instead of outlining my views on what went down, I just want to share some anecdotes.

-I went to Annapolis (was I there in protest or in support, I'm a little unclear. You can see me on this video with the guy with the guitar) with my school's chapter of ZOA. I arrived a little late, as I had class that I couldn't miss. When I got there, one of the people I was with asked "where are we?" I looked around, amid the Neturei Karta, Lubavitch, and PLO protesters, and said, "We're the normal looking ones."

-One of the people I was with was rather energetic, and extremely passionate about Israel. She handed out stickers with an Israeli flag to everyone she met, including the security gaurds. When she asked one gaurd if he would like a sticker, he said "Sure. Anything for peace, right?" She smiled, nodded, and said "Yup." As she walked away, she said "Wait. No. No division of Jerusalem. I guess not 'anything'."

[This conversation exemplifies what it was that almost held me back from going. I DO support peace, I just don't think that dividing Jerusalem will accomplish that. My biggest proof is the three or four Palestinian groups protesting the convention. If they aren't going to be happy with compromise, neither will we.]

-It seems that Annapolis residents don't really get to see much political action. They're too far away from DC to go there on a regular basis, and the 2 colleges in Annapolis-St. Johns and the Naval Academy-aren't exactly known for their large activist population. Everyone was out infront of the conference, protesting their cause of the day. Most of them had something to do with Middle East politics, but in no stretch of the imagination all. One guy was there with a sign that said "Send a piana' to Havana". When I asked him what his sign meant, he explained that the trade restrictions with Cuba are such that Americans can only send medicinal aid. Pianos are not included in that category, but he was arguing they should be, because the power of music has been proven to calm patients into a speedier recovery.

-A girl, about my age, started talking to me. She asked where I went to school, and I said "The University of Maryland." She looked at me and my friends, who were pretty much all dressed in denim skirts and zip up sweatshirts, and asked "What's the difference between Stern College and the University of Maryland". Hmmm... Where to start with that one??

Life and Knowledge-Good and Bad

To me, one of the most confusing stories in Tanach has always been the story of Adam and Chava in Gan-Eden.

Some immediate questions that come to mind:

1. What is the distinction between the etz hadaat and the etz hachaim? Alternatively, what's so bad about knowledge?

2. They got thrown out of the garden, and punished with the hardships of life, simply because they ate from the wrong tree. I understand that there was a lack of obeying God here, but come on...it's a little harsh.

3. What's the connection between putting Adam in the garden, and realizing that "it's not good for man to be alone?" What about the garden made God realize that? The two stories are clearly related, as they are written intertwined with one another.

4. Why do we have to know that they were naked, and the shame (or lack thereof) that came along with it? Is that the "knowledge"? What's so important about that? (see question 1)

5. What's the role of the etz hachaim? Look at verse 9 and verses 16-17 (I posted them below). Is it a comparison of good vs. bad? How come etz hachaim is not mentioned in v. 16?

There are many more questions that come to mind, but they are not pertinent to this post, so I left them out.

I think that there's an important element that's often skipped over.

ט וַיַּצְמַח יְהוָה אֱלֹהִים מִן-הָאֲדָמָה כָּל-עֵץ נֶחְמָד לְמַרְאֶה וְטוֹב לְמַאֲכָל וְעֵץ הַחַיִּים בְּתוֹךְ הַגָּן וְעֵץ הַדַּעַת טוֹב וָרָע

and a few verses later:

טז וַיְצַו יְהוָה אֱלֹהִים, עַל-הָאָדָם לֵאמֹר: מִכֹּל עֵץ-הַגָּן, אָכֹל תֹּאכֵל.יז וּמֵעֵץ הַדַּעַת טוֹב וָרָע--לֹא תֹאכַל מִמֶּנּוּ: כִּי בְּיוֹם אֲכָלְךָ מִמֶּנּוּ--מוֹת תָּמוּת. יח וַיֹּאמֶר יְהוָה אֱלֹהִים, לֹא-טוֹב הֱיוֹת הָאָדָם לְבַדּוֹ; אֶעֱשֶׂה-לּוֹ עֵזֶר כְּנֶגְדּוֹ

The creation of Chava comes directly after the commandment of which tree to eat from. Then later, in chapter 3, the element of nakedness comes into play. Clearly, this story has a lot of sexual elements in it. It's a fairly accepted principle that the first creation story (in chapter 1) is the creation of nature. It includes plants, animals, constellations, and people. The second creation story (what we are looking at, in chapter 2) re-tells the creation of man, but the focal point is the etiology of marriage. The climax is the creation of woman, and the advise for a man to leave his parents and cleave to his wife.

So what does the beginning of the chapter have to do with marriage? Why need to know all the information about the trees and the garden?

I think the key word here is daat-knowledge. That's what the whole Gan-Eden story is focused on. That's the tree that Adam can't eat from.

It's a well known fact that "knowledge" has two definitions in Tanakh. The first is simply having an internal awareness of facts. The second, a more sexual meaning. To biblically know someone is to have sexual relations with them, as in chapter 4:

א וְהָאָדָם יָדַע אֶת-חַוָּה אִשְׁתּוֹ; וַתַּהַר וַתֵּלֶד אֶת-קַיִן

Perhaps thats what the etz hadaat is referring to. The etz hadaat and the etz hachaim are metaphors for types of sexual relations: procreation vs. an intimate knowledge of one another. And verse 9 tells the preferred type: He created a tree of life and a tree of knowledge, good and bad. The "tree of life" is good, and the "tree of knowledge" is bad. Alternatively, the good and bad can be applied both to the tree of knowledge. The "tree of knowledge" or, sex for enjoyment, is both good and bad. If the SOLE purpose of the sex is for the physical enjoyment, that's "bad". If, however, it's combined with marriage/procreation, the physical enjoyment is "good".

Verses 16 and 17 are still troublesome. Perhaps it's another rule of sex. "From every tree of the garden (types of women?) you can eat, but make sure it's not only for the enjoyment of the act."

So, according to this read, the chapter goes something like this:
-God creates Man
-God creates sex
-God gives Man rules of sex: Don't do it simply for the enjoment of sex.
-God creates Woman.
-God gives man and woman Marriage.
-The desire is too much for Woman to overcome, so she convinces Man to have sex with her, for the enjoyment of it.
-Man and Woman realize they are naked, and are embarrassed.
-Woman is punished by having childbirth be difficult.

It makes a lot of sense, and things connect better than in the "simple" read of the pesukim, although there seem to be a few flaws in the idea. First, what about the worry of God that "now man will be like one of us?" (3:5, 3:22). Where does that fit in? Also, the punishments of the snake and of Adam don't seem to have anything to do with sex or marriage.

I'm not sure that I like this read of the chapters, and it DEFINATELY wouldn't fly in (most) feminist circles, but its something different. It requires a lot more thought, but I just wanted to put the idea out there.

The Evolving Organization of My Bookshelf, and Me

When I first started college, I was determined to keep my room organized. I had a knack for losing things, misplacing important papers, and I inevitably took five minutes to leave because I couldn’t find my keys.

I decided that college would be my chance for a fresh start. I sorted the clothes in my closet by color, length, and style. I assigned specific drawers for my makeup, hair clips, and accessories. I made a vow never to leave my room with the bed unmade. And most importantly, I was going to keep the books on my book shelf in a logical order.

And here is where the problem started. What’s a “logical” order? There could be so many ways to arrange them. I started out putting them in size order. The big, hard cover textbooks were on the end, and the smaller, thinner books towards the middle. But this didn’t work for me. There was no reason in my mind why my (large, hardcover) siddur was next to my accounting book. So I separated the books differently. I split the book shelf into two sides, with my box of markers, pens, and pencils in the middle as the divider. To the left were the seforim I had brought with me from home, and on the right were the books I needed for class.

As time went on, the books eventually lost their places on the shelf. I would take one out and then put it back in a different spot. Two books would switch places, and then four, and then eight, until it was impossible to tell that there was ever any sort of order to the shelf. I decided it was time to reorganize the shelf.

At this point,I'd like to point out that I am majoring in Judaic Studies at the University of Maryland.

When I started college, it was easy to divide the books. Stuff I used for class was on the right, stuff I brought from home was on the left. 

Then, I started taking Judaic Studies courses. It was still easy to divide, because I was using all my “textbooks” for class. But now, I’ve completed several of the courses. I no longer need the books for class, but decided to keep them because they were interesting reads. So now, do these books make the leap over to the left side? Do they become seforim? Do ALL of them become seforim? If I move my JPS English-only Tanakh to the left side, do I also move “Jewish Philosophy in a Secular Age”? “The Bible Unearthed”? And where do Jewish history books fit in? Is it like the famous George Santayana quote, that if we do not learn from history, we are doomed to repeat it? Then what about the positive aspects of history? I can’t possibly recreate the enlightenment, though I view it as a positive period for the evolution of Judaism.

I think the broader question at play here is how should one treat the academic study of Judaism.

A few days ago, I was sitting in a gemara shiur (not a university class). We had been discussing a difficult mishnah, and in the gemara, Rav Huna and Rav Chisda tried to explain it various ways. Both of the explanations were a stretch, and it didn’t seem like either of them were “pshat”. So the rabbi leading the shiur showed us what Rabbi David Weiss Halavni, a professor of Talmud at Columbia University and Bar Ilan University, had to say about the issue. Rabbi Halavni read the mishnah with a different perspective than R’ Huna or R’Chisda, and came up with a way of reading it that seems to make a lot of sense, even though it contradicted those amoraim.

The Rabbi asked us what we thought about what Rabbi Halavni said. We all had to agree that it made a lot more sense, but a few students had reservations about his methods. “You can’t just disagree with the gemara like that. It’s not how we do things”, they said. So then The Rabbi said “What do you suggest for someone to do, if they’ve been struggling and struggling to find pshat in the Mishnah, and then they final figure out a way to understand it, but can’t find any amora who agrees with them? Should they just ignore this thought?” The student’s response: “Well, if they see a value in sharing their views, they shouldn’t publish it in a book that looks like a sefer.” [Rabbi Halavni’s book is written in Hebrew, leather bound, and is called ‘mekorot u’mesorot’]

I personally thought that what Rabbi Halavni said was great, and if I had a copy of his book, I would have placed it prominently on the left side.

I wonder where I would have placed his book 2 years ago, before I started learning secular Judaic studies?

Girls and Boys

Mazel Tov! The JLI couple at UMD, Rabbi Eli and Naomi Kohl, had a baby boy this past week.

Rabbi Kohl came to Maariv last night and showed us pictures of the baby. The boys asked him if the baby shared any of the Torah he had learned while in the womb with him.

The girls, all in unision, said "awwww" as soon as he showed us the picture.

On Not Being Able to Spend Money. Ever.

I have a confession to make.

I am a cheap Jew.

This may not surprise those of you who know me. You may have been frustrated with me when I got a glass of water when we went out for ice cream, or when I voted to rent a movie instead of drive to a theater, or when I buy off-brand groceries to save twenty cents. I apologize.

This is the way that I am, and I have [generally] learned to live with it.

I do very well on budgets. I feel like I have "won" if I am under budget.

I do not do well when I feel that money is being spent unnecessarily.

This is not a good character trait, especially when my roomate loves buying Bertolli pasta, Ben and Jerrys ice cream, Starbucks coffee, and Dannon yogurt. We started out buying groceries together. This did not last very long.

This is an even worse character trait when the money being spent is long term. Such as a student loan. Especially a loan that (I feel) is unnecessary.

I hate that my parents GIVE me money to spend on things like clothes, haircuts, and my car. They are not stingy at all, and many times tell me to get the top of the line (i.e. Get your car waxed twice a month, buy the fanciest clothes you can find for shabbos, spend the extra money to get the flight time that you want), yet also say that I will have to be the one to pay back my loans.

I don't WANT all these luxuries. I'd rather graduate debt free and not have a car. That's just not happening though. I "need" a car for when (2 or 3 times a semester) I drive to Baltimore. I "must" look nice l'kavod shabbos.

Last year, I was offered a full scholarship to Touro College, before I even applied. I thought about accepting it, briefly, but turned them down.

All things considered, I am MUCH happier here than I would be at Touro. It's not even a question in my mind.

I did, however, have a breakdown tonight about how much money I will have to pay back when I graduate, and I wasn't factoring in law school. It mad me think about Touro again.

I find my self repeating over and over "Beverly, you'd hate Touro. You would not learn anything there. Remember Darchei Binah? It's worse than that. Beverly, think about how happy you are at Maryland. Think, Beverly, Think!!"

L'hitaneg B'tanugim...L'Shadech HaBanot

From Rememberings by Pauline Wengeroff:

"Reb Layzer made almost as much from the shadchen
(matchmaking) business as from his school, with the
added advantage that matchmaking was usually
accompanied by a glass of whiskey...This business was
conducted Sataurday evening between mincha and
maariv, when the Jews of those days, rested after their
twenty-four hour respite from work, were in the mood
to speak of such things."

May The Soul Be Lifted

I'd like to ask that you dedicate the Torah you learn today li'iluy nishmas chana bas rachel.

Where does the idea of "an aliyah for the neshama" come from?

I've done some research, and the closest thing I've found is in the Medrash Tanchuma.

Rabbi Akiva was once walking, and saw a man with a face
"as black as coal", carrying a load "heavy enough for ten
men", and running "swift as a horse."

Rabbi Akiva asked him why he was doing this.

He responded "I am dead. When I was alive, I was a tax
collector.I exploited the poor and was easy on the rich. I
am punished everyday byhaving to collect wood for a fire
in which I am burned. "

Rabbi Akiva asked if there was anyway to free him from
this punishment.

The man responded "I have heard that if I had a son who
would go before the congregation and call out "Barchu es
HaShem Hamevorach", and the people would say "Baruch
HaShem Hamevorach leolam va'ed", and also, if he would
say "yisgadal v'yiskadash shmay raba" and the people
would respond "yehay shmay raba mevorach", then my
punishment would end.

He continued, "When I died, my wife was pregnant. But
even if it was a son, there would be no one to teach him."

Rabbi Akiva went to find the son. When he did, he found
that the boy had not even been circumcised. He
circumsiced the boy, and taught him Torah and how to pray.
When he was ready, he led the congregation in prayer,
including saying"barchu" and "yisgadal". When he did this,
the soul of his father was "instantly freed from punishment."

I think this medrash provides much insight for mourners, both those that halacha specifies as mourners, and those that don't fit the halachick description, but are still are mourning the loss of their friend or relative.

The key in the medrash was not that the son simply said the words "yiskadal vyiskadash...". It was the learning torah and teffilah part. Similarly, the father laments that he didn't get to "teach his son." If it was simply a matter of getting the son to say those few words, surely someone in the community (perhaps his mother?) would have urged him to do so.

The proclamation of "yiskadal vyiskadash" is so important because it speaks of elevating and praising God. The traditional reason given for this is because it helps the mourners realize that even though they are going through a difficult time right now, they still have to realize that everything God does to them is for the best.

The practical difference in this explanation, as opposed to the idea that kaddish "lifts the soul closer to God", is how it affects non-halachik mourners. When a person dies and leaves behind no one obligated to say kaddish, yet because of him people are doing more mitzvos than they would have, this is a zechus for the dead person. Praising God in public is a specific mitzvah one can do, but learning more torah or giving more tzedaka or being more careful about kashrus are comparable, in this case.

I've seen it happen where (usually non religous) families argue over who will take the responsibility of saying kaddish. Once one person volunteers, the others no longer feel obligated, because "at least the person has someone saying kaddish for him."

I've also seen it happen where people become disressed when someone dies without anyone to say kaddish.

Both of these situations bother me, because they are forgetting the point of kaddish. It is simply a way to help the MOURNERS deal with death. It's also not the act of kaddish that is important, it is the lifestyle that goes along with it. Why is it OK if only one son out of 2 or 3 feels enough of a connection to religon to say kaddish? Why doesn't the fact that none of the sons are shomrei mitzvot? And why isn't learning torah in zechus of a lost friend or distant relative not stressed more?

Religion and Personal Identity, Again.

Can I just say that I suck at writing. I can't believe how bad I am. I just read the last post I wrote, and found at least twenty grammatical mistakes, just by skimming it once.

That being said, I have another thing to say about it.

The friend I referred to has started becoming more religous. He's set up a chavrusa, he comes to minyan several times a week, and I see him at many of the shiurim that I go to.

I'd love to say that this makes me really happy, but it doesn't.

He's also stopped wearing his rugged baseball caps and put on a kippah. Instead of his grungy sweatshirts (or tee shirts, now that it's warm), he has started wearing polo shirts.

I see him slowly changing, exactly how my father changed. I'd love to say that I'm happy for him, but I'm not.

Since when is giving up your personal identity part of religion?

When Dad Goes Off and Gets Frum

I'm starting to understand why many parents are so weary of sending their children to Israel for a year.

I kind of have the reverse situation. My family, including myself, are all what one would call baalei teshuvah.

Growing up, my dad would repeatedly tell the story of when my mom was pregnant with me, their first child, he had a dream that 3 people-2 girls, one boy (presumably their 3 children)-were standing with him, and the youngest one, a girl in a nurse's uniform, said "Dad, being with you is like being in a time warp."

Disregarding the prophetic vision in this dream, focus on the last line. That's what growing up with my dad was like. I never knew what popular music was, our radio was always tuned to the "classics" like Kingston Trio, David Bromberg, and The Beatles. We listened to old radio shows like Dick Tracy and the original War of the Worlds instead of watching TV. When we did watch TV, it was Nick-at-Nite oldies like Route 66 and The Andy Griffith Show. My dad talked freely of growing up in the sixties and seventies, and sang us war protest songs from his youth. He tried to hide the fact that he smoked and took all sorts of drugs, but once it came out, he was pretty open about that too. When I went to Amsterdam this past winter break, he told me, only somewhat jokingly, that I should get high while I had the chance. I used to look forward to our big Friday night dinners, where the conversation ran freely and anything and everything was always discussed.

Then, slowly, my family began flipping out. I guess in a large way it was due to me-I stopped wearing pants in 4th grade, and my mom followed. I started only eating vegetarian when we went out to eat, and my dad followed. Then, I wouldn't eat out at all, and since my family had to cook something else for me, they stopped eating out so much as well. I went to a high school out of state, because there were no Jewish high schools near where I lived. When I started there in 9th grade, my family was probably one of the least religous families. We still would eat dairy in non kosher restraunts, my mom didn't cover her hair all the time, I didn't even know what mincha was. The girls in the school, for the most part, came from relatively shtark families. The school defined themselves as a "non-Bais Yaakov." Now, just a few years later, my parents would probably not have sent me to that school, as it's too modern for them. My dad wears a black hat, and has a beard and peyos. Not that I judge people by what they look like, but...I do.

Friday night, I've noticed, isn't the same unless my dad has had several shots of whiskey. If not, then it goes like this. He and my brother come home from shul, and sit down on the couch to rest for a few minutes from the 20 minute walk home. The women, who have been home the whole time and haven't eaten properly the whole day because they've been busy getting ready, are extremely hungry and want to start kiddush ASAP. Finally, we get the boys up and to the table, and everyone starts singing Shalom Aleichem off-key. There's always an argument whether or not to sing Eishes Chayil, as my parents don't really know the tune or the words, and so its up to us kids. None of us have great voices, and while this doesn't bother my brother or sister, it bothers me, especially if there are guests. Kiddush, Hamotzei, Fish, Soup and then the fun begins.

My father gives over a dvar torah. He's worked really hard at preparing this with a Rabbi that he learns with, so everyone is very quiet while he speaks. It's something that usually takes him about 5-7 minutes, quotes a rashi, and has a "feel good" mussar point at the end. You can't question him, because he just hasn't learned enough to answer analytical style questions. If our non-religous relatives are there, it gets even worse, because some sort of arguement always ensues about "The Rabbi" that always gets the final say, or women's role, or our relationship with non-Jews. I'm always quiet during these things, but I really don't think my father presents Orthodoxy in the best light.

What bothers me so much is not the lifestyle my father has chosen. When I was in Seminary, I was surrounded by people like him. I didn't really mind them so much, because that's just how they are. What bothers me is that I remember what my dad was like just a few years ago. His Orthodoxy has made him lose so much of his personality. Now, everytime I go home, he's more interested in learning with me than with speaking with me. I can still get him to be like how he used to be, but usually only when he's had a couple of drinks, or times like lazy Sunday mornings when he sleeps in and doesn't go to shul, and therefore isn't in the "shtark-mode" so much.

I have a friend who lives about 4 hours away from my hometown and reminds me SO MUCH of my dad (pre-flipout). I really want to introduce my dad to him, but right now, I don't think they'd get along very well. If I had met him 3 or 4 years ago, things would have been different, but now, my dad would immediately have a negative reaction to him when he sees him not wearing a kippah, but a cap with the Beatles logo on it. And my friend would think that my dad looks like an old Hasidic rabbi. And then they'd talk Torah. And they maybe wouldn't hate each other, but they would each think that the other one is a little bit crazy. And they would probably never get around to discussing things that they have in common, like music. My dad would try to show off how shtark he was by saying that he listens to the Miami Boys Choir. I know my dad secretly despises them, but it's the frum thing to do. He can't listen to goyishe music anymore, so instead he listens to the Big Band music of the 40s. And this breaks my heart.

I've recently started going to minyan everyday as well, and I love it. I love the camraderie and the "minyan chevra", and I also love that it sort of forces me talk to God 2 or 3 times a day. I would never want to suggest that my father not go to minyan, or not learn daf yomi, or spend less time with the kollel. But at the same time, I really miss the old him. I miss taking weekend camping trips to middle-of-nowheresville South Carolina. But we would never do that now. Its too much time spent away from the shul. And I've come to really resent that.

Don't Worry, Be Happy

In an attempt to decorate our room, my roomate hung up two larger-than-lifesize posters of Abercrombie and Fitch models in our room. They hang from floor to ceiling, and are about 3 feet wide.

A friend of mine came by my room, and we were discussing the posters (I'm not a fan).

She pointed to one of the posters

and said "You know, he's not so bad looking." I made an "are you crazy?" face, and told her that if I were to choose, I would go with the other one:

She said "Really? But the first one is so...pensive."

"True," I responded. "But the other guy looks so happy and carefree."

And that's the difference between her and I.