Shabbat: Parsha Vayechi

Shabbat Shalom, everyone, and an extra prayer for peace in Gaza. It is my hope and the hope of many in this world that this time next shabbat the conflict will have ended. The Torah portion for today is Vayechi, Genesis 47:28-50:26. In this parsha, we see the deaths of both Jacob and his son Joseph. In the sense of raw plot, not a lot happens in this parsha, but there is a great depth of symbolism in the little bit that does happen. The parsha opens with the aging and eventual ill health of Jacob, the last of the three patriarchs. As we saw last week, Joseph revealed himself to his family and gave them a home in Goshen, a territory within Egypt where he was a powerful political figure. As Jacob lay dying, he requests that his body be taken back to Canaan so he can be laid to rest in the same cave as his parents Isaac and Rebecca, his grandparents Abraham and Sarah, as well as his wives Leah and Rachel. But before that happens, there is a very interesting episode involving Joseph's sons, Manassah and Ephraim. At this point, Jacob is blind and infirm. He calls Joseph to him to explain his burial wishes and also to bless Joseph and his sons. Jacob gives a blessing to the boys, his left hand on the head of Manassah and his right on the head of Ephraim. In that culture at that time, the right hand represented the stronger and the better side of things. In this case, when Jacob passes the blessing of God's promise to make his descendants a great and prosperous people, he gives the better part of the blessing to Ephraim. At first, Joseph believes his father is mistaken because he is blind. Ephraim is the younger of the two brothers and therefore not traditionally entitled to a greater portion of an inheritance. But when Joseph attempts to correct Jacob, Jacob insists that he knows exactly what he's doing and that the blessing of the second born is intentional. Later, as Jacob essentially reads his last will to his sons, he once again breaks with the tradition of allotting inheritance by the order of birth. Rather, Jacob gives his portions and blessings to his sons based on their righteousness. Those who were violent get nothing, those who were irresponsible get next to nothing, those who were lazy get very little, and those who were good and holy inherit wealth and power. Interestingly, this part of the parsha reads like a poem pasted into the regular story. It is full of metaphors and powerful imagery. This isn't in a poetic format just to be fancy. Jacob's sons are each the progenitors of the famous twelve tribes of Israel. The listing of their crimes and virtues is epic because it represents an entire nation, not just a family. This is not the first, nor the last time the Torah uses small groups of people to represent whole societies. This episode belongs to a recurring theme in the Torah about responsibility throughout the generations. By allotting the wealth and blessings of his people based on merit, Jacob sets the precedent that the soon-to-be-Jewish people are not just another dynasty ruled by notions of power. Not only does this create a focus on justice, it also serves as a strong allegory for how we affect future generations with our present acts. Like this story's previous threads about preparedness, the reading of the will of Jacob warns us that the lives we lead echo throughout time. A life of violence leads to a fallow future, a life of complacency leads to empty servitude. We are most certainly meant to read this portion and ask ourselves what legacy we will leave to future generations. Do we deserve to receive the blessings of our fathers, or have we yet to earn it?

Wednesday Hebrew: Oseh Shalom

Shalom, everyone. I wish I could write this post in a less tragic time, but I also won't avoid the topic of the recent conflict in Gaza. It's difficult to watch and read the reports coming out of the region, not just as a Jew but as a human being. Regardless of one's affiliations, violence on such a scale is heartbreaking. Moreover, it is impossible for any truly spiritual person to justify. As it has been, seemingly since the beginning of human civilzation, the agenda of a radical few has resulted in the pain and loss of many peaceful people. While I strive to be a supporter of Israel, I cannot condone the scale of the Israeli military's response to the rocket attacks from Gaza. Of course, we also shouldn't ignore the intent of those rocket attacks. It is short-sighted and inhumane to approach this conflict or the many like it in the past with a binary attitude. How anyone can call one side of this war the "right" side and still call themselves a good Jew, or a good Muslim, is beyond me. Because of this conflict, today's Hebrew lesson will center around a prayer called Oseh Shalom, which literally means, "Make Peace". The prayer actually appears at the end of the Kaddish, the prayer for remembering lost loved ones. The text, with transliteration, is as follows: The usual translation of Oseh Shalom is, "He who makes peace in Heaven will make peace for us throughout Israel, and we say Amen". But this translation is neither direct nor in the full spirit of Jewish philosophy. According to Jewish law and practice, it is the task of living people to make peace on Earth, not by a magical blessing from God. This philosophy is known as Tikun Olam, literally "The repair of everything". Tikun Olam is the task of every living person, Jew and gentile. Moreover, the standard translation of Oseh Shalom takes some liberties with the phrasing. I would like to suggest an alternative translation with a different, more direct connotation. Oseh shalom b'imromav "Make peace your greatest example (lit. in the highest place) Hu ya'aseh shalom aleinu "He who will make peace for us all" V'al kol Yisrael "And in all of Israel" V'imru amen "We agree" My suggested translation places the focus of the prayer on the actions of individuals, rather than on a entreating God for help. The line "He who will make peace for us all" can certainly refer to God, but it doesn't have to. It can simply mean, "You individual person who strives to make peace for everyone". The term b'imromav doesn't actually refer to Heaven, the Hebrew for which is Shamayim. Rather, the term simply means "in a high place" or possibly "in the highest place". This can very easily mean that peace should be made the greatest public example. As the prayer in my translation says, the Jewish people, Israel, can only support the actions of individuals pursuing peace. If you support violence and conflict, you stray from the core of the Jewish faith.

Shabbat: Parsha Vayigash

Shabbat Shalom and Happy New Year. The parsha for this week is Vayigash, the story of how the House of Israel actually came to live in Egypt. This is a particularly interesting episode in the Torah because it is one of the most overtly literary moments in the Five Books. It is full of drama, symbolism and most of all foreshadowing. This parsha starts in the middle of a chapter. Judah entreats Joseph to reconsider his decision to take Benjamin, Joseph's youngest brother, as a bondsman after framing him for theft. Joseph chooses to finally end his ruse and reveal his true identity to his brothers. When they come before him to beg for the release of Benjamin, Joseph tells them who he is. He also tells them that he harbors them no ill will, saying that it was God who sent him to Egypt, not his brothers. Here we have an interesting opportunity for a philosophical discussion. This entire parsha sits at the fulcrum of many events, past and future, that indistinguishably mix the good with the bad. There is an inexplicable sense of cause and effect. Joseph is betrayed by his brothers and languishes in slavery, but had he not he would never have risen to his position of authority in Egypt. By the same turn, had Joseph not come to Egypt the pharaoh wouldn't have been prepared for the seven years of famine and the entire empire would have starved, including Joseph's family in Canaan. Like dominoes, events keep triggering new events. After Joseph reveals himself to his brothers, he invites his entire family to come to Egypt from Canaan. This includes dozens of people, essentially an entire clan and the seeds of a nation. Of course, had Joseph not invited his family to live in Egypt, the Israelites would never have become slaves to Ramses, and therefore never would have been freed by God and led to the Torah. The story of Joseph is the story of the Jewish people in microcosm- To go from comfort to slavery, then from slavery to humble exaltation. The parallel events in both stories are convoluted. The bad directly results in the good, with the good paving the way to the bad. The question we must ask ourselves is, how do we approach life when this dynamic is ever-present? Everyone experiences their share of good times and tragedies. Our relationships with one another are complex and the longer we know one another the more likely we are to retain some kind of emotional "baggage" that further complicates how we feel and how we act. The stories of Joseph and then of the Israelites are stories of the human condition. Not only are we bound to experience ups and downs, we are also generally incapable of seeing what good or bad things will result from the conditions of the present. It is exceedingly easy to simply remind people to have faith that good will grow from the bad. As the parsha says, God went with the Israelites when they went to Egypt. But as we discussed last week, "going with God" does not guarantee happiness. The best insight we can gather from this parsha is that, in all of this complicated business with the mixing of good and bad, there are still moments of volition. Joseph chooses to re-embrace his family. God does not command it of him, neither does etiquette. In the midst of all this confusion, Joseph listens to his emotions and makes a decision in his life to welcome some goodness into the present. We small humans will spend most of our lives getting tossed around by past, present and future bouts of good and bad. What makes our lives meaningful are those rare opportunities for choice.

A Word on Prayers

Last night, the festival of Chanukah came to a close. In its way, Chanukah is unique among Jewish holidays. While many of the faith's observances last for several nights, none but Chanukah have an active ritual repeated on each of the nights. For those who diligently keep the customs of Chanukah this means lighting the Menorah eight times, a powerful sensory ritual. The sight of the flames, the smell of the smoke, even the motion of guiding the Shamas to each branch can evoke memories of childhood and of other Chanukahs past. We do these rituals not just because they are customs but because physical acts require enough concentration to focus us on the prayers and the feelings associated with the holiday. So, when we repeat the same prayers for eight successive nights, lent focus by the act of lighting the Menorah, it is natural for us to question what those prayers actually mean. We are a people who often pray in an ancient language that most of us can't speak. We frequently don't even know the literal translations, let alone the layers of meaning underneath. On Chanukah we say two prayers every time we light the Menorah and a third prayer on the first night only. On the first night, in addition to the two others, we say the Shehechianu, a prayer said at all occasions of firsts or of new things. The other two prayers are: Blessed are you, Adonai our God, King of the Universe Who makes us holy with the Mitzvah we do When we light the lights of Chanukah (amen) And Blessed are you, Adonai our God, King of the Universe Who did miracles for our fathers on this day at this time (amen) So, why are our prayers structured like this? Why do almost all Jewish prayers begin with the same line? Is there a purpose to the repetition of placing all the honor on God? There are several layers of answers to these questions. First, the structure of Hebrew prayers is essentially standardized. It is a result of the Rabbinic Age in which we live. When Jerusalem was sacked by the Roman Empire the Temple was destroyed and the Jews were forced to scatter across the world. In order for the Jewish faith to survive and Jews to stay connected to one another regardless of where they lived, the prayers of our ancient heritage were standardized. As for why the majority of Hebrew prayers open with the same line, it is part of one of the faith's central tenets. In the Torah and in all liturgy afterward, Judaism has attempted to avoid placing too much honor or power on individual people. The responsibility and the glory almost always goes either to God or to the entire community as a whole. When we light the Chanukah candles, we do not honor Judah Maccabee or any other individual because the holiday isn't supposed to be a time of ancestor worship. By placing the honor on God we allow hope and power to exist in the present day and out of the hands of anyone who could possibly be corrupted by such power. We also place so much focus on community not just to keep others from becoming arrogant, but also to keep us focused on what really matters. These holidays are nothing if we don't share them with others because these holidays don't exist in a vacuum, cut off from the rest of our lives. However ornate or archaic the wording, these two prayers above say simple things. They can be easily translated into more concise language. "It is a good and happy thing to light Chanukah candles" and "A wonderful thing happened a long time ago. We're so happy we can celebrate it together today." In order to make an ancient religion relevant to our modern lives, we must come to a colloquial understanding of what our prayers mean. By keeping the text of those prayers the same across the ages, we allow each generation to come to its own understanding of their meaning. It is a Mitzvah, a good and holy thing, to contemplate prayers and what they mean. If it sounds old, stuffy or irrelevant, chances are you just aren't modernizing your interpretation.

Shabbat Torah: Parshah Mikeitz

Shabbat Shalom. It's time once again for Shabbat Torah Study. Today's parshah is Mikeitz, Genesis 41:1-44:17. In this parshah there is a lot of drama. Joseph, who proved himself an apt dream interpreter last week, gets a chance to analyze two very troubling dreams had by the pharaoh himself. In the pharaoh's first dream, seven head of strong cattle come up from the River Nile, followed by seven more who are weak. The weak eat the strong so that there is no trace of the strong remaining. In the second dream, a similar episode occurs involving stalks of corn. Joseph's interpretation through God is that Egypt will experience first a seven-year period of high production and prosperity, followed by seven years of famine. In an interesting bit of his interpretation, Joseph tells the pharaoh that he had two similar dreams because it is God's way to assure pharaoh that the events alluded to in the dreams will most surely pass. In fact, repetition is a common device used in the Torah to indicate truth. The earliest example is when God tells Adam and Eve not to eat from the Tree of Knowledge. The common translation of this episode is, "For if you eat of it, you will surely die". The actual translation would read, "If you eat of it, dying you shall die". The repetition in the phrase indicates truth by way of emphasis. Accordingly, the 14 year period of feast and famine does happen in Egypt. There is a running theme in this parshah is preparedness. Pharaoh's dreams are messages from God to be prepared for trouble, even when life is good. Essentially, it is a lesson about the necessity of foresight in a leader. The entire Egyptian Empire relies on the pharaoh to see beyond immediate circumstances. In this parshah, those who don't even attempt at foresight suffer. When Joseph is first called before the pharaoh to interpret the dreams, the Torah takes time out to tell us that Joseph made sure to shave and bathe. As always, there are no wasted words in the Torah. This begins the theme of preparedness. To use one of our own colloquialisms, Joseph puts his best foot forward. By preparing himself physically, he also prepares himself mentally. Standing before the pharaoh, Joseph is confident but not arrogant, he is honest and he is polite. Compare this to the scenes later in the parshah when Joseph's brothers come to Egypt to buy food. They are only concerned with their immediate problems, first their hunger and then Joseph's request to see their youngest brother. Because they show no foresight, because they are ill-prepared for everything, Joseph's brothers experience fear and loss. This is a lesson we can easily apply to our own lives. Preparing ourselves, even in superficial, cosmetic ways, can help us enter a focused mindset. Thinking beyond our immediate conditions can save us a lot of grief in the future when those conditions change. Taking time to groom, dress and practice for a job interview can make the difference between employment and rejection. Mental preparation for the loss of a sick loved one can make the difference between strength in a time of need and incapacitation by grief. Life, in its good times and bad, happens. How well we face those changes in life is entirely up to us as individuals.

Wednesday Hebrew: Chanukah Edition

Shalom, everyone and Chag Chanukah Sameyach! Welcome to Wednesday Hebrew at Judeo Talk. Today's lesson is going to revolve around terms and phrases relating to the holiday of Chanukah. Tonight is the fourth night of the Festival of Lights. Word has it there's this other holiday happening sometime soon, though I can't seem to recall the name... Let's jump into the first part of the lesson. In my greeting, I used the phrase "Chag Chanukah Sameyach" which translates as "Happy Chanukah Holiday". ?? The word "Chag" (seen above) means "Holiday". It is a shortening of an older, now mostly unused word, ??? "Chagag". "Chagag" is an ancient word denoting a pilgrimage to the Temple of Jerusalem or even the celebration of that pilgrimage. In Arabic, there is a cognate of this word that is still used today. It is "Hajj" (??), the pilgrimage to Mecca that all Muslims are very strongly encouraged to experience at least once in their lives. After the destruction of the Second Temple of Jerusalem by the Roman Empire 2000 years ago, Jews no longer had any place to perform their rituals. This ended the Jewish practice of animal sacrifice and formally began the Rabbinic age in which we still live. Today, there is some debate about whether or not we should call "Chanukah" a "Chag" because in more conservative traditions, the term is reserved for Holy Days mentioned specifically in the Torah. The other part of the phrase "Chag Chanukah Sameyach" is the word that means "Happy". "Sameyach" is one of several Hebrew words that means "Happy". The many ways to say "Happy" in Hebrew each mean something more specific than the general term of the translation. The word "Sameyach" refers to a giddy, celebratory happiness. A Hebrew teacher of mine in college described "Sameyach" by waving her hands in the air and saying "Yay!" In the holiday greeting phrase, the connotation is that the speaker wishes the listener a carefree celebration and true jubilation. The other Hebrew phrase we're going to learn today is "Nes Gadol Haya Sham", meaning "A Great Miracle Happened There". This phrase refers to the liberation of Judea I described in my last update. The first letter of each word in this phrase can be found on the four faces of the dreidel. However, it should be noted that the world "dreidel" isn't Hebrew, it's Yiddish. The Hebrew word for dreidel is "Sivivon", which just means "Spinning Thing". The first word "Nes" means "Miracle" and it is represented by the letter Nun. The next word "Gadol" means "Great" or "Big", represented by the letter Gimel. Notice that in Hebrew the adjective comes after the noun it is describing. We say "Great Miracle" by literally saying "Miracle Great". The next word "Haya" is translated as "Happened" but it really just means "Was". This is represented by the letter "Hay". Finally, there is the word "Sham" meaning "There". This refers to the city of Jerusalem where the Temple used to stand. Today, all that remains of the Temple is the Western Wall and a portion of the Northern Wall around the Temple Mount. The word "Sham" is represented by the letter "Shin". But if you are in Jerusalem the phrase and the letters on the dreidel are different. Instead of "Sham" they use the word "Po" meaning "Here". Many students of Hebrew learn this word on their first day during roll call. The teacher calls a student's name and if he or she is present, the student uses the phrase "Ani po", meaning "I am here". The word "Po" is represented by the letter Peh. I hope everyone continues to have a Happy Chanukah. See you Friday.

Chanukah: History and Tradition

On the 25th day of the Hebrew calender month of Kislev, it has been the tradition for several thousand years to celebrate a holiday called Chanukah. This festival commemorates the liberation of what would become Israel from the occupation of Seleucid forces under King Antiochus IV. Many people grow up with the fable about the oil in the Temple lamps during the rededication of the Temple after the war. Legend says that one day's worth of oil miraculously lasted eight days, but it is false to say that the holiday is meant to celebrate this supposed miracle. Jews today recognize that story as being a metaphor for hope and perseverance in difficult times. So, if Chanukah isn't about the miracle, why do we celebrate it? The real essence of Chanukah is the lesson of holding to one's beliefs regardless of external pressures. Many times throughout history, Jews have been persecuted for their culture and their faith. More than once, we have been pressed to convert to other religions. One such event was the occupation of the Levant region by Antiochus IV and his armies, who mandated the conversation of all those living in Judea to Hellenistic Greek traditions. So, who is Antiochus? When Alexander the Great died in 323 BCE, he left a massive empire. Having spent most of his life pursuing war, Alexander's closest political allies were his generals. When the time came to hand power to another, Alexander's son had yet to be born. Alexander's generals, known in this period as the Diadochi, spent many years afterward vying for control over the fragments of the Macedonian Empire. During a long period of in-fighting that involved murders both on and off the battlefield, the line of Antiochus took segments of Asia. Due to the endless wars between competing Greek forces, many local cultures grew strong enough to pursue independence, among them were Carthage, Rome and an upstart group of rebels in Judea under a devout leader named Judah Maccabee, whose name translates as "Hammer". The Maccabee rebels represented a fairly small portion of the Judean people. They were, in a sense, political and religious extremists intent on maintaining the traditions associated with the Temple of Jerusalem. Using guerrilla tactics to wear down the Seleucid armies (which were already stretched thin from other, larger wars), the Maccabee movement wrested control of the region from the Greeks. After the war, they rededicated the Temple, which is where the festival gets its name. "Chanukah" relates to the root word "Chanakh" meaning "To dedicate" in the sense of religious sanctification. Since that time, the liberation of Judea has been celebrated by Jews all over the world. Because the lighting of special candelabra called Menorah (pl. Minorot) was a feature of the rededication of the Temple, the most important Chanukah tradition is the lighting of the Chanukiah, a special 9-branched Menorah. The ninth branch, called the Shamash (protector) represents God, while the other eight branches represent the eight days of the festival. Eight is a very important number in Judaism, but that's another lesson. Chanukah 2008 runs from the evening of Sunday, December 21st to the following Sunday, December 28th. Happy Holidays. Join us here at Judeo Talk this Wednesday for a special Chanukah edition of our Hebrew lesson.

Shabbat Torah Study: Parasha Vayeishev

The Torah portion for this week is Vayeishev, Genesis 37:1-40:23. This portion, or parasha, tells three stories, but today we will be concentrating on the trials of Joseph. There are two major themes running through this parasha: Justice and Brotherhood. Tied to these two concepts is the matter of faith. In circumstances where brothers don’t act very brotherly and the judgments of others are not just, the characters must choose to either despair for the trouble in their lives or to have faith that everything will come to good in time. It is important to remember that no story in the Torah exists in isolation. Every story can and often does make reference to an earlier story. Sometimes there is foreshadowing of stories yet to come. When we read Vayeishev, it is easy to see the parallels in the conflict between Joseph and his brothers, and the conflict between Cane and Abel, the first and therefore quintessential brothers. When Cane kills Abel, God asks Cane where Abel has gone. Cane responds, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” By the punishments that result, we can only conclude that the answer is yes. So, when Joseph’s brothers conspire to harm him, they are failing in their duty to love, protect and teach him. They hate him for his arrogance, for telling them that his dreams foretell his dominion over the entire family. But when we look at several clues placed throughout the parasha, it is obvious that Joseph begins this story as a very young person. He doesn’t take the family flock to pasture like his brothers and he is later described as having grown into a man after several years as a slave in Egypt. Joseph, compared to his brothers, is a child. It was not the duty of his brothers to compete with him, but to teach him. All the same, Joseph already had a path set out before him. Like many of his ancestors, he would have to come into his own by way of struggle and conflict. In the beginning of his story, Joseph has only dreams with which to approach life, no real experience. When his brothers remove him from this ease and comfort by selling him into slavery, he grows wiser and holier. When he is stripped of his freedom and dignity a second time by being falsely accused of pursuing his master’s wife, Joseph grows wiser and humbler still. Throughout Joseph’s story, it is reiterated that God is with him. This is not just a phrase to reassure readers that he will be safe. It is an indication that Joseph will continue to grow and learn. This is a frequent setup in the Torah. To “be with God” means just as much that conflict is on its way than it means victory is assured. Joseph’s story really begins when he stops to ask for directions to his brothers and their flock. He asks someone merely referred to as Ish, meaning simply “a man”. Joseph’s father, Jacob, also had an experience with someone merely referred to as Ish. This was the individual with whom Jacob wrestled the day before he received the name Israel, signaling his growth into the man he was meant to be. Many sages and scholars over the years have discussed the occasional appearance of Ish in the Torah. Much of the study surrounding these strange moments suggest that this simple man who meets many of our biblical figures is, in fact, God pointing the way to destiny.

Wednesday Hebrew: The Philosophy of Bet

Shalom, friends. It's Wednesday at Judeo Talk and that means it's time for our weekly Hebrew lesson. Every week we will be discussing a different Hebrew letter, word or phrase and its importance to Jewish faith and culture. This being our first installment of Wednesday Hebrew, we're already on the subject of beginnings. So, I thought I'd take the opportunity to give a quick lesson about one of the most famous phrases in the Torah. The word Bereishit (Beh-ray-sheet), which means "In the beginning". This is the first word in the Hebrew bible, known colloquially as The Old Testament. Hebrew is a very deep, complex language that is often used in the Torah in such a way that single words, even individual letters have multiple layers of meaning. The fact that Bereishit is the first word in the Torah, and more precisely that the letter Bet is the first letter in the Torah, is itself a lesson and an object of focus for the rest of the Hebrew bible. The Hebrew letter Bet makes the same sound as the English letter B. In the word "Bereishit" the Bet acts as the common suffix "Bih" meaning "In". The word "Reishit" meaning "Beginning" comes from the term "Rishon" which means "First". In fact, the word "Rishon" plays an important part in the Book of Genesis. "Rishon" is visually and phonetically very distinct from the more common root for the number 1, which is "Echad". Linguistic focus points like this appear throughout the Torah and are meant to give us pause and to indicate something special. Using the term "Rishon" and its derivatives makes this portion of the Torah focus on beginnings, on firsts and most importantly on uniqueness. There is also a Midrash associated with Bet and the importance of its placement at the very beginning of the Torah. Young Jews are asked to imagine themselves as the dot in the middle of Bet. Notice how the only clear path is directly forward (Hebrew is read from right to left). If the Torah begins with Bet and we live our lives by the Torah, then we must remember to keep our minds on the present and on the potential of the future. We must not dwell on the past, which is irretrievably behind us. We must not gaze at our feet in inaction or preoccupy ourselves with the grave above which we walk. And however pious we may be we must not look upward to Heaven, either for guidance or in aspirations toward paradise, while there is so much for us to do here in life. So, from the very beginning (literally), the Torah establishes itself as document concerned with life. As we continue with our lessons, we will see this sentiment reiterated time and again. This is the true depth and power of Torah study. In every letter there is a lesson. The stories themselves are important, but how they are told can have just as much, or sometimes more, meaning.

Shalom from Judeo Talk

Hello, friends and web-surfers. My name is Michael Sarko and this is Judeo Talk, an interactive blog for the discussion of Jewish faith, culture, history and current events. I'll be updating three times a week, shedding light on a rich tradition that stretches back thousands of years and continues to impact the lives of millions of people worldwide. Every Friday, there will be a Shabbat D'var post providing an introduction to some of the themes in the week's Torah portion. Additionally, feel free to email me with any questions about Judaism and I'll do my best to post the answer in this blog. There is a famous Jewish story, known as a Midrash, about the importance of teaching and learning. In the story, a man goes to several different rabbis with the strange request of being taught Torah while he stands on one foot. Everyone was insulted by this request because it seemed silly and unnecessary. The only one who agreed to the stranger's odd stipulation was Rabbi Hillel, who was known for being a very open-minded and accepting man. Young Jews have long been told this story as a way to remind them to be open-minded themselves in the process of teaching and learning. Many tasks and topics seem daunting at the beginning, as if we are approaching them with no more stability or focus than we would have while standing on one foot. So, even if you don't know a thing about Judaism or Jewish culture, there's no need to turn away. Judeo Talk is a place where you only need a desire to learn. So, what is Judaism? Plainly, Judaism is the oldest of the three central Abrahamic faiths, followed by Christianity and then Islam. All three of those religions is Monotheistic, meaning that one of their basic tenates is a belief in a single God. Because Jewish history stretches back nearly six thousand years, the exact origins of the faith and culture are not certain. In the religious tradition, the foundations of monotheism and therefore Judaism are placed on one man, Abraham. This is where the term "Abrahamic" comes from. According to his story in the bible Abraham was ethnically Sumerian, living in approximately 4000 BC, or as Jews prefer to say, BCE (before the common era). Early in his story, Abraham experiences divine forces and becomes devoted to spreading belief in a single, all-powerful God. Of course, not everyone interprets the stories of the bible as being literal events, not even Jews. Unfortunately, retrieving accurate information about life and major events from thousands of years ago is exceedingly difficult. We do know that Jewish culture has existed since nearly the dawn of human civilization, thanks to writings and artifacts from ancient cities like Ur, Babylon and Jerusalem. Whatever its origins, Judaism persists in the modern day, though its definition remains elusive. If this question could be answered so easily, I wouldn't have bothered making an entire blog about it. Sure, there's a textbook definition, but that doesn't even begin to explain what it means to be a Jew and how Jewish culture has contributed to the world at large. I hope you'll join with me in learning about one of this world's great cultural traditions. Shalom and welcome. Got a question or a suggestion for a future topic? Email me at sarko.michael@gmail.com

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