Shabbat: Vayak'hel-Pekudei and Hachodesh

Shabbat Shalom and welcome to Judeo Talk. The Torah portion for this week is parsha Vayak'hel-Pekudei, Exodus 35:1-40:38. But it is also Shabbat Hachodesh. The word "Chodesh" comes from the word "Chadash" which means "New". We are entering into a new month in the Jewish calender, the month of Nisan. After the Torah reading on Shabbat morning, a special prayer will be said to bless the new month. The first thing that should pop into a reader's mind this week is a question- Why are we reading two parshiot? This has to do again with the Jewish calendar. Unlike the secular calendar, the Jewish variety is lunar instead of solar. This results in an uneven distribution of days in a given Jewish year. Some years are 54 weeks long, others have fewer. We happen to be in one of the shorter years, so an extra Torah portion has to be covered this week so we can finish reading by the end of the year. This actually results in some interesting symmetry in the parshiot. Parsha Vayak'hel is concerned with the actual creation of all the holy structures, garments and items described in previous portions, while parsha Pekudei involves the first enacted rituals. Much of Vayak'hel is a word-for-word reiteration of God's instructions for building the Tabernacle, the altar and the priestly vestments. This may seem unnecessary, but even this repetition has a purpose. By describing all that the Israelites did, this parsha proves that they followed God's instructions to the letter. It's a lot like a sort of legal document proving that the people held up their end of the contract between the people and God. At the beginning of the portion it even says that the people brought materials in excess of what was required. Just as importantly, these materials are described as being free-will offerings. Moses tells the people that no one is required to offer anything, only those who choose to give should give. This sets an incredible precedent. The Israelites are not a people being dominated by their God or taken advantage of by their leaders. They go into their faith by choice and in doing so prove the abundance of all they have to give. We are most certainly meant to read the Torah as if we are the people in it. This passage is telling us that, should we choose to give of ourselves, we will discover just how much we actually have to offer. Parsha Pekudei describes what we might call the first Shabbat service ever. Our modern services look a little different, though. While we today don't perform a burnt sacrifice, we still light the candles and make a beautiful bread for the service. People reading this portion since the beginning of the faith have identified with this moment. We are meant to read the passage and see the rituals of our own lives. This is, without a doubt, the moment in which the Israelites become Jews. It's fitting, then, that this is the parsha that ends the book of Exodus. The people are no longer going out from their old lives. They have now entered into the new. From that point on, the Torah says that the cloud and fire of God descended to the Tent of Meeting everywhere the people went. When the cloud was there they stayed, and when it rose they moved on. The once choppy, uncertain lives of the people suddenly evolved into a rhythmic schedule. In essence, they attained some amount of control, thus they moved ever farther from slavery. Next week we begin the book of Leviticus and the tone of the Torah will change significantly. Until then, Shabbat Shalom and thank you for reading.

Person of the Week: Rav Akiva

Perhaps no development in the history of Judaism was more important than the rise of Rabbinic leadership. In its earliest incarnations, Judaism was just another ancient faith centering around rigid geographical boundaries and the practice of animal sacrifice. But by the first century CE there came a trend toward a combination of communal study and social services. People began to seek the counsel of men made wise through dedicated learning instead of relying on priests who wielded power in old rituals and claims of holy lineage. These sages were the first Rabbis, the religious leaders who served the communities in which they lived. It wasn't until the destruction of the Second Temple and the diaspora that followed that the Rabbis became spiritual leaders as well. The model for the modern Rabbi is often thought to be based on one very influential man. His name was Akibah ben Yosef, but we know him today as Rav Akiva. He is so revered in circles of Jewish sages that even the great Talmudic scholars referred to him with the honorific "The Head of All Sages". Akiva was born in the mid first century CE near the destroyed Jerusalem. Unlike many ancient scholars, he did not have a particularly cerebral job. Whereas many sages made their money as doctors, lawyers and as other learning-intensive professionals, Akiva was a mere shepherd. He was the son of a convert and he spent the better part of his life outside of the halls of Toritic knowledge. He came to study Torah at the age of 40. Like many of the ancient sages, there are many possibly apocryphal stories about Akiva. It has been said that while he himself was one of the poorest men around, he married the daughter of the wealthiest man in town. As for what drove him to study Torah, the legend goes that Akiva found a rock through which a constant drip of water had worn a hole. He took it as a symbol of the possibilities granted to the patient, so he began his studies though he was already old by his society's standards. Regardless of whether or not these stories are true, what is indisputable is that Akiva quickly became one of the most revered scholars of his time. His greatest contribution is his approach to biblical exegesis. He was one of the primary authors of the Mishnah, the oral tradition of Torah study concerned with the organization and codification of those laws and morals found in the Tanakh. Akiva was primarily concerned with systematizing those laws, but he did so with an ingenious invention, the Midrash. A Midrash is a sort of fable created to further explain an event or law found in the Tanakh, the texts of the Torah. Midrashim are not meant to be taken as equal in authority to the words of the Tanakh, but merely as a way for non-scholars to approach the law in a way they can understand. Many of the Midrashim are so pervasive that they have come to be mistaken for stories directly from the bible. A great example comes from a moment in Exodus we read a few weeks ago. There is a Midrash that says the Israelites sang and danced when the Red Sea came crashing down on the Egyptian army, and that God chastised them for doing so. The lesson here is meant to reinforce the sanctity of all life. The Midrash is there so that people won't misinterpret the sentiment behind the song composed by Moses in that scene in the bible as being a way to gloat over the deaths of his enemies. Rav Akiva lived in a tumultuous time. When the Roman Empire sought to rebuild Jerusalem as a city dedicated to the god Jupiter, a group of Jews led by a man named Bar Kochbah rebelled. Akiva was a deeply political man and he decided to serve as the spiritual leader of the rebels. The Bar Kochbah Rebellion failed and most of its participants were killed. Akiva himself was taken prisoner by the Romans, tortured, then executed. Akiva left behind many great scholars in his students. Among them are the highly revered Talmudic sages Rav Shammai and Rav Nehemiah. To this day, Akiva's organization of the traditions of Khalakha and his Midrashim aid both scholars and lay people in accessing the Torah. His dedication to learning and to the good of his community served as a model for all Rabbis through the generations and into the modern day.

Shabbat: Parsha Ki Tisa

Shabbat Shalom and welcome to Judeo Talk. The Torah portion for this week is parsha Ki Tisa, Exodus 30:11-34:35. The big, well-known events in the Torah tend to distract people from the more meaningful moments. As in life, biblical profundity occurs just as often in the quiet, even during the downtime, as it does in the epic episodes. That is certainly the case in today's parsha. The most interesting moment in the entire portion just happens to be flanked by big, strange things that people remember first. But before we get to that, how about some comparative religion? Early in the parsha, God tells Moses to make anointing oil and incense using particular spices, and also to have a brass basin of water just outside the Tent of Meeting so people can wash their hands and feet before they enter. The first thing that popped into my mind while I re-read this segment of the parsha was that it looked a lot like a Catholic cathedral. Basins of holy water, the spreading of incense and other Catholic rituals have their origins in these passages from Exodus. This only makes sense, as the term "Catholic" used to mean "the original way". Catholicism grew out of a desire to return Christianity to a state of biblical fundamentals. Though many of the rituals seem foreign and arbitrary to outsiders, they do actually hew very closely to the instructions in the Torah. Ki Tisa is the portion that contains the story of the Golden Calf. The Israelites grow impatient waiting for Moses to descend from the mountain where he communes with God, so Aaron encourages them to make a golden idol as an intermediary between themselves and God. This often gets misinterpreted as the Israelites inventing a new god or attempting to regain the favor of an old Egyptian god, but it's a bit more complicated than that. The Golden Calf is an idol meant to represent God, the same God who led the people out of Egypt. In their haste to connect with the divine, the people commit a cardinal sin, forgetting already that God told them not to worship idols when the original Mitzvot were delivered. In an interesting moment (but not the most interesting of the parsha), Moses asks God not to completely destroy the people for this sin. Moses does not beg or plead. Rather, he reminds God of the covenant that has held true since Abraham. By appealing to this agreement, Moses saves his people. While it would be a little silly to say that God is contractually obligated to protect the Israelites, this is a good demonstration of why it's important to remember the law. Moses descends from the mountain and the idol worshipers are duly punished. What really strikes me about this particular time in the parsha is actually what directly follows it. When life has returned to normal, the perspective of the parsha extends and retracts, talking generally about Moses's day-to-day habits. He keeps the Tent of Meeting far outside the main camp and he almost never comes out. The people always watch for him, looking for his leadership. But what is Moses doing in there exactly? Well, he's having a crisis of faith. Alone in the tent, Moses asks God how he could possibly know what is and is not holy, how he can possibly tell right from wrong and Godly works from the profane. Moses knows he is seen as a great leader, but he worries about his own very human limitations. God's answer is, in my opinion, one of the most profound, important statements in the entire Torah. God tells Moses than no human being could possibly see God's face. God does say that, in so many words, if Moses concentrates he will be able to feel God pass him by and afterward, upon turning, he will be able to see God's back. If ever there was a key to faith, this is it. To be human is to not know for certain, to not be able to absolutely determine what is good and right. But in hindsight, when all is said and done, the truth so often becomes clear. In essence, do not attempt to predict God or life. That's impossible. Instead, look around you and attempt to see the mark of great things past. Take, for instance, the clinical work of Alexander Fleming. The discovery of penicillin was practically an accident. There is no way he could have predicted that the first antibiotic would grow on some forgotten, moldy cultures. Yet, in retrospect, the path to the discovery is clear. It's practically irrelevant whether or not this is called divine intervention. Great things, according to the Torah, happen regardless of human desire and without clear foresight. What's important is that we, as mere people, do our best to recognize great things when they happen.

Purim

Shalom and Chag Sameach. Welcome to Judeo Talk. Even though it's Wednesday, we won't be doing our regular Person of the Week feature because tonight is a special holiday. Every year on the 14th day of the Jewish month of Adar, Jews gather to celebrate the story told in Magillat Ester, the Scroll of Esther. Though it is considered one of the minor holidays, i.e. not mentioned in the Five Books, Purim has been celebrated all over the world for several thousand years. The Scroll of Esther describes a period of time when the Jewish people were living in Persia during the Achaemenid dynasty. They were living there because the Persian Empire took over the territories of the Babylonian Empire which conquered and held captive the Israelites. These are the same Babylonians who destroyed the First Temple of Jerusalem. The story of Purim revolves around a king named Ahasuerus, but he would have been known in his own country Khashayarsha. For us modern people, we remember him by the name his Greek adversaries gave him, Xerxes. According to the story, the king banished his wife, Queen Vashti, from the kingdom. When he went in search of a new wife, the woman he selected was Esther. However, the king was unaware of Esther's Jewish heritage. The villain of the story is a man named Haman the Agagite. The term "Agag" itself likely refers to a king of Amalekite descent. The Amalekites are a people in the Torah who wage unprovoked war against the Jewish people with the sole intent of extermination. By linking Haman with them, he is essentially being called an ancient enemy of the Jews. Haman hatches a plot to kill all of the Jews in the kingdom, using his position as a vizier to the king as leverage. The hero of the story ends up being Esther, who bravely reveals herself as a Jew to the king in an attempt to sway him from the impending genocide. Most Jews grow up hearing a somewhat softened version of the story in which Haman's decree to kill the Jews is simply reversed. In the actual story, the king is bound by law to hold to any royal decree, even if he changes his mind. Instead, he augments the law so that Jews will be not held responsible for any deaths resulting from self-defense. The story of Esther can then be interpreted to be a call to pride and courage instead of a simple example of a people's weakness. Purim is celebrated in a number of ways and it is often the most boisterous holiday in the Jewish faith. It has long been a tradition to conduct a Purimspiel, a small comedic play that tells the story in the Scroll of Esther. This is often encouraged to be a play performed by amateurs in the community and many synagogues have their own Purimspiele performed by congregants. It has also long been a tradition to have Purim parties where a little bit of excess is permissible. Some scholars have been known to say that revelers should drink enough to not be able to tell the difference between the names Haman and Mordechi (one of the story's heroes). Every Purim also includes a special treat called Hamantaschen. The name means "Haman's Hat" in German. It is a three-cornered pastry representing Haman's pointed, three-cornered hat. Its consistency is like a dense, crumbly cookie and it has different kinds of filling, like fruit, chocolate or poppy seed. People attending Purim parties also tend to dress up in costume. This began as a tradition to dress up as characters from the story, but these days it is treated more like a Halloween party, though with less emphasis on scary or morbid themes. I hope you all have a happy Purim. If you didn't make it to a party this year, make sure to mark your calendar for next Adar.

Shabbat: Parsha Tetzaveh

Shabbat Shalom and welcome to Judeo Talk. The Torah portion for this week is Parsha Tetzaveh, Exodus 27:20-30:10. As the Israelites approach the Holy Land after receiving the law, the parshiot become preoccupied with the details of day-to-day religious life. Last week God gave specific instructions concerning the construction of the tabernacle, while this week there were similar instructions about how to craft the priestly garb that Aaron and his sons would wear while performing their duties as the Cohanim. Of the twelve tribes of Israel, many were given specific stations in the emerging kingdom. The tribe of Cohane was selected to fulfill the roles of priests. In the ancient times when there was still a Temple in Jerusalem, the Cohanim were the ones who administered every sacrifice, as well as other religious rites. When the Second Temple was destroyed by the Roman Empire, sacrifice ceased to be a practical part of Jewish faith and so the position of the Cohane disappeared. That, in addition to a lack of agricultural products and other wealth for sacrifice, is why Jews have not practiced sacrificial rites in over 2000 years. In this parsha, the exact ritual for sacrifice is also described. Like everything else in the portion, much of it is heavy with deeper meaning. But first, the vestments of the priests. Just like the tabernacle, the holy garments of Aaron and his sons are luxurious beyond compare. This once again points to a shifting values system in the culture. The priests of this new religion are being dressed as kings, there is no doubt about that. They are being gilded and wrapped in royal colors like purple, blue and red. Purple was especially rare at that time and it was a trademark of the Phoenician people, the most advanced civilization on the Levant and the originators of several modern alphabets. The connotations of regal stature in this parsha lead to several laws later in the Torah meant specifically to limit and hold accountable the priests of Israel. But there is more to the design of the holy vestments than their richness. Both upon the shoulders and the breastplate of the chief priest, Aaron, are the names of the twelve tribes of Israel. In a deeply symbolic sense, Aaron and thereby all the head priests of the future have the people inscribed above their hearts and born on their shoulders. The description of the sacrificial rites is graphic and detailed. It delineates where the holy parts of an animal stop and where the unholy begins. Certain fats, organs and all waste are considered unholy and are supposed to be burned beyond any given camp. Other portions are to be burned on the alter, while others are to be eaten by the priests. Along with the meats the priests are supposed to consume, there are other foods described as well. Among them are bread, olive oil and wine. There is also a separate rite that involves the burning of local incense, along with a rule that states no foreign incense are to be burned. This is another area where we're supposed to take pause. What is the religious significance of bread and incense? In a way, there is nothing particularly holy about these things, but that's not really the point. Before the description of the sacrificial rites, God says that the priests will tend to the religious needs of the people every single day. If the priests are busy doing their ritual tasks, where are these earthly elements of the rituals supposed to come from? Obviously, they are products of the people the priests serve. That is what this whole parsha is really about. By requiring such complex vestments and resource-intensive rituals, the Torah is essentially forcing the Israelites to be productive. They are being told to keep livestock, to grow grain and make oil, to keep vineyards and develop spices. While these days getting a certain color of fabric is as easy as going to a store, in the ancient world it meant tending to sheep and developing whole textile industries, as well as harvesting dyes from flowers. The purple dye itself came from certain sea creatures, so this would require a sustained maritime effort as well. In this one parsha we see the call to create an entire nation's livelihood, and not a meager one at that. These are not supposed to be simple subsistence farmers. Rather, many of these people would be employed in the development of luxury products, the surest pathway to a wealthy and powerful nation. For centuries in the ancient and medieval world, spices and dyes were the difference between empires and their subjects. This is how we must approach these seemingly minutiae-obsessed portions of the Torah. Cultural context is everything.

Person of the Week: Golda Meir

Shalom and welcome to Judeo Talk. This week, we will be learning about one of the most important political figures in Jewish history, Golda Meir. Golda was born in Kiev, Ukraine in 1898. Her father was Moshe Mabovitch, a carpenter. Life for Jews at the end of the Russian Empire was difficult. They frequently experienced pogroms, random attacks against their communities that were often State-approved, if not ordered. It was also very difficult for Jews in Russian territories to make ends meet. Golda's father emigrated to New York in 1903 to find steady work, sending his wife and children to live in Pinsk, Belarus where Golda's mother's family resided. By 1906, Moshe had saved up enough money working at a train yard in Milwaukee, Wisconsin to bring his family to America. When not working in the grocery store her mother ran, Golda attended school at the Fourth Street Grade School. There she showed her early proclivities for politics and leadership by organizing student fundraisers for supplies and books. She later formed the American Young Sisters Society, an education outreach organization for poor children in Milwaukee. When Golda's parents wanted her to quit school and marry, she decided instead to move in with her sister Sheyna who lived in Denver, Colorado. Sheyna and her husband were fixtures in the Denver intellectual world. Golda took very easily to the prominent discussions of the time, including women's suffrage and the Zionist movement. Zionism was a loose political ideology centering around the development of a Jewish nation. There were many different stripes of Zionism, from peaceful, work-driven socialism called Labor Zionism to more radical and sometimes violent demonstrations. Golda was a dedicated and outspoken member of the Labor Zionist movement. Golda's husband, Morris Meyerson, was also a proud member of the movement. Together, they left the United States to join a kibbutz in the British Mandate of Palestine in 1921. With her long involvement in the political world of Israel/Palestine, Golda became a spokesperson for the formation of the State of Israel at the end of World War II. She held numerous stations in the movement, including several diplomatic positions. Among the most prestigious was her selection to be the Jewish representative at the Evian Conference formed by US President Franklin Roosevelt concerning the massive refugee situation resulting from Nazi persecution of Jews during the Second World War. In 1948, Golda Meir was one of the people to sign the Israeli Declaration of Independence. After the ensuing war resulted in an Israeli victory, Golda was made the Israeli ambassador to the Soviet Union. She held that position for one year, then returned to Israel to be its Labour Minister for seven years. She then became Israel's Foreign Minister under Prime Minister David Ben-Gurion. It was at this time that Golda altered her surname to the Hebraic "Meir" from the European "Meyerson". However, she and her husband divorced at this time, most likely due to the vast amounts of time the two spent apart because of Golda's political responsibilities. In the early 1960's, Golda was diagnosed with cancer and decided to retire from public life. She didn't stay away for long. In 1969, Golda Meir was selected to be the successor to Levi Eshkol, the leader of the Mapai Party that later became the Israel Labour Party. She was then elected Prime Minister of Israel, a position she held until 1974. Meir's time as Prime Minister was plagued with violence. She was in office during the 1972 Munich Olympic Games when terrorist group Black September killed the Israeli athletes set to compete. She was also Prime Minister during the controversial Yom Kippur War. Though her party won the 1973 election, Meir resigned in 1974. In 1978 at the age of 80, Golda Meir died of cancer. She was buried at the Mt. Hertzl Cemetery in Jerusalem. Few figures in Jewish history contributed more to the development of the State of Israel than Golda. Aside from her work in the Jewish community, Golda Meir is a prominent figure in the development of women's rights all over the world.

Shabbat: Parsha Terumah

Shabbat Shalom and welcome to Judeo Talk. The Torah portion for this week is Terumah, Exodus 25:1-27:19. This parsha isn't a very active one. It describes, down to the smallest detail, how the Israelites are supposed to build the Ark of the Covenant. God's specifications are exact and extremely demanding, especially for a nation of people who are wandering around in the desert. But then again, that's basically the point. As is often the case in the Torah, it is the unwritten that is the most important. The Torah is, after all, a living document. It isn't meant to sit like a piece of religious decor, it is meant to be interacted with. That's why we read it every week and that's why it's imperative that we ask questions. The question that springs to mind when reading Terumah is this: If the Israelites are still in the wilderness and God demands that the Ark be made out of every kind of finery imaginable, where are the Israelites supposed to get these materials? That's when we need to look back to an earlier parsha. Back when the Israelites were on their way out of Egypt after the tenth and final plague struck, one of the conditions of their departure was that the Egyptians give all manner of spoils to them. They gave gold and jewels, they gave fine clothes and whatever other riches they could scrounge. Later, the Israelites came into warfare with kingdoms that didn't want to allow them safe passage through their land. The Israelites conquered these foes, presumably taking yet more spoils of war with them. So, what we can reason from these events is that all of the wealth the Israelites have, they have because of the protection and direction of God. By forcing the people to throw so much of their wealth into building the Ark, it drives home just what exactly ought to be at the front of everyone's mind. This path to salvation, this long journey from slavery (both literal and figurative) to enlightenment begins and ends with the divine. There is no wealth but that which God gives and there is no victory except that which God deems right. This is how we must approach the study of Torah. When we crack open these books of scripture hoping to find epic miracles and poignant dramas involving the iconic figures many of us have known since childhood, there is an inherent frustration if we happen to be at a parsha where it seems that nothing happens. Indeed there are several parshiot that describe exact procedures, outline building schematics or list extensive lineages. These are not wastes of space nor are they antiquated literary conventions. Any time we feel a sense of disquiet or disinterest in a parsha, it's quite likely that disquiet and disinterest are exactly the point. So go ahead, embrace that indignance. Ask a snotty question about the Torah and you may just get an enlightened answer. Remember, the Jewish people are known as Yisra'el, those who struggle with God. Judaism is not about blind faith and it most certainly isn't about complacency. The Torah, like God, is something to be wrestled with, something to be approached not with universal reverence but with a voracious, even arrogant intellectual curiosity.

Person of the Week: Maimonides

Shalom and welcome to Judeo Talk. We're going to be taking a break from Wednesday Hebrew to make room for a new feature, Person of the Week. Each week, we will be learning about an individual who contributed greatly to the Jewish world. To start things off, I can think of no person more fitting for this blog than the scholar Maimonides. Maimonides was a 12th century Talmudic sage who operated exclusively in Muslim-controlled territories of Europe and Northern Africa. Like many scholars of his time, he is referred to by a Greek name (Maimonides) thanks to the pervasiveness of neo-classical ideals and fashions. In his time, however, he would have gone by any number of other names, depending on his surrounding community. His Hebrew name is Moshe ben Ma'imon, meaning "Moses, son of Ma'imon". He also would have been known by the very exact, honorific-laden Arabic name Abu Imran Mussa bin Maimun ibn Abdallah al-Qurtubi al-Israili. In most of the texts that refer to him, though, he is known by a simple acronym: Rambam, from the Hebrew title Rav Moshe ben Maimon, the "rav" meaning "rabbi". Rambam was born in Cordoba, Spain in the mid-1100's. He studied Torah in addition to the popular teachings of Arab and Greek philosophers. From the latter he adopted a firm stance against poetry and mysticism. Maimonides was, if anything, a scientist. The invasion of Spain by the Almohad Dynasty brought with it a much more stringent version of Muslim law than the Moorish leniency of Rambam's childhood. Non-Muslims in the conquered territories were forced to convert, die, or go into exile from their homes. Many Jews in the region chose exile, including the young Rambam's family. They settled in Morocco where Maimonides got the chance to study at Al Karaouine University where he was trained as a physician. While studying medicine, Rambam also began writing his famous commentaries of the Mishnah, the first and most revered of the rabbinic oral law documents. Maimonides spent much of his life traveling and he became something of a celebrity in his time. He lived briefly in Israel but lived the longest in Egypt where he was a doctor for high-level government officials under Saladin himself. There is even reason to believe he treated Richard the Lionheart during the Crusades. Rambam penned a number of documents that came to be formative in Jewish philosophy, especially the Western variety thereof. Perhaps his most famous and important work is Guide for the Perplexed, a sort of introductory text for the subtleties of interpreting Torah. The title itself hints at Rambam's notorious dismissiveness. This is something we will find in all of our discussions of prominent Jewish scholars. There is a personality underneath all of their work, so much so that the scholars are often use them as larger-than-life figures representing whole approaches to faith and philosophy. Maimonides died in Fostat, Egypt in the year 1204. He was succeeded by his son Avraham, also a notable scholar in his own right. Rambam's grave is located in Tiberias, aka modern-day T'verya, Israel. For today's students of Jewish thought, Rambam represents a sort of clinical, empirical approach to faith. He warned against assuming too much about the divine and giving in to superstition. His views are often put against those of Nachmonides, the Ramban. But that's another discussion for another day.

Shabbat: Parsha Mishpatim

Shalom and welcome to Judeo Talk. The Torah portion for this week is parsha Mishpatim, Exodus 21:1-24:18. Last week we saw the first of many Torah portions that deal with the establishment of the law for the new Israelite nation. Much of this week's parsha focuses on expanding upon those initial laws, from what to do in specific instances to what punishments should result from breaking the law. In regard to that last point, Mishpatim has a famous passage. Many people have heard the expression, "Eye for an eye" in regard to retribution for wrongdoing. This phrase has come to have a connotation of revenge, even vindictiveness, in our modern society. The original meaning of the phrase couldn't be farther from that sentiment. The full passage actually begins by talking about what should be done about violence that causes a pregnant woman to miscarry. It is determined that in this or any case of criminal negligence, the restitution should be "Life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe". This should not be confused for biblical consent to vengeance. If anything, this passage exists to limit the punishment levied on someone found guilty of a crime. By stating that all punishments must match the crime, this passage seeks to keep people from dealing too harshly with one another. As with many things in the Torah, this all seems too extreme. We live in a society that prefers quantifiable and somewhat arbitrary punishments. In the United States were someone to cut off another person's hand, the guilty party would be jailed and fined but would not have his or her hand also severed. In the ancient world the punishment would more than likely have been death. The Toritic law calls for properly weighed justice, nothing more or less. Mishpatim is, for the most part, a long list of other laws. The frame story for the laws is that God told them to Moses, who then wrote them down in a book and recited the book's entire contents to the people of Israel. This is a sort of follow-through from last week's portion in which Jethro suggested that Moses teach the law to the entire nation. At the end of Mishpatim, God calls Moses to the top of a mountain to receive the stone tablets with the Ten Commandments, as well as to receive the Torah and the Mitzvot. This passage is often portrayed as just the giving the stone tablets, but the wording itself is very specific. God uses the words "Torah" and "Mitzvah" in addition to referring to "the stone tablets". This in itself is very interesting. God uses the singular "MItzvah" and not the plural "Mitzvot", as well as distinguishing Mitzvah from Torah (in this case meaning the law), and both of those things from the stone tablets. This places them implicitly in three different categories. The stone tablets are listed first, so that implies that they are either the most important thing or that they are simply the earliest to appear in the culture. The second item mentioned is the Torah, followed by the most vague term, the Mitzvah. If we interpret this often overlooked exchange between God and Moses as following the parsha's theme of establishing law, we can determine the following progression: The Ten Commandments (as much as I don't like that term) are the initial guidelines of the culture. They are the first, the most simple and the most universal of the new nation's code of morals and ethics. The second piece, the Torah, is a much more complex, nuanced document that expands upon the guidelines of the stone tablets. The final item, the very concept of Mitzvah, likely doesn't even have a physical component. Rather, it is an idea, an inherent moral core that will eventually be part of the culture. Even the materials have a sense of progression. Stone tablets, then inscribed paper, then cultural ephemera. This is the progression of early human law.

Wednesday Hebrew: The Names of God

Last Wednesday we explored the history of biblical translation as it began in Greek-occupied Alexandria, Egypt. One of the more confounding aspects of translating the Torah is the fact that there are numerous names for Judaism's one God. In the early days of translation and interpretation, this caused no small amount of confusion. Some of those names refer to aspects of God, like strength or healing, while others are poetic metaphors, like father or king. There are too many names of God in the Torah to simply list them here, but we will be looking at some of the more commonly used variations, as well as some of the unusual or unique names. The simplest and likely the oldest Hebrew name for God is El. This term can be traced to the Northwest regions of Semitic-language use near the dawn of civilization. Cultures pre-dating Judaism used the term in reference to their own gods, specifically in reference to divine might and power. When Arabic-speaking people adopted Islam they also adopted a cognate of El, the very well-known Allah. In order to distinguish their El from the gods of other peoples, Hebrew-speakers developed the term Elohim. This is by far one of the most popular names for God, especially in the Tanakh where it appears over 2500 times. Linguistically, Elohim is an emphatic plural of El. Instead of meaning "many gods" it refers to the entirety of God's power. Essentially, "God of everything who can do anything and is everywhere". In speaking terms, however, the most common name for God is Adonai. This is a first-person possessive version of Adon, which itself means "Lord or Master" in the holy sense. There is another Hebrew word that means "master" in a more earthly sense. That is Ba'al. This term should be familiar to anyone who has studied ancient Near-Eastern culture as meaning the chief god of a region. In Hebrew, Ba'al usually refers to a master of slaves or property, or in the more archaic sense a man as a master of his wife. Modern Hebrew-speakers tend not to use Ba'al to refer to a husband anymore, preferring instead to simply say Ish'i, "my man". Adonai isn't very commonly written in the phonetic. It is instead a vocal placeholder for certain spellings of the name of God that are not meant to be pronounced, the most common being the Tetragrammaton. Here it is in Paleo-Hebrew, Aramaic, and Modern Hebrew: This collection of letters is never supposed to be pronounced phonetically. The reason for this is that there are aspects of God that are simply unknowable, so at least one iteration of the name of God must have some permanent mystery to it. When this spelling of the name appears in any text, it is supposed to be pronounced Adonai. In other places, especially in the biblical poetry of Psalms, God is referred to obliquely through metaphor. One common term is Ra'ah, meaning "shepherd", referring to God as a caring guide. Melech is another often-used term for God. It means "king". This isn't just a reference to God as a ruler, it's also a strong political statement. While the ancient nation of Israel did eventually adopt a monarchical government, the Torah explicitly states that Israelites should be a nation of priests (Kohanim) subject to the law of judges with God as their king. This is just an introduction to the many names of God as they are found in the Torah. This demonstrates just how poetic and lush those texts really are. It also shows how important it is to be able to approach the texts with the Hebrew context in mind.

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