Friday, August 22, 2008

Major Differences in the Halakhic Midrashism and the Midrash Rabba

Introduction:
The midrash rabba and the halakhic midrashism are critical elements found within the study of the midrash. At their most basic level, the midrash rabba and the halakhic midrashism can be identified as genres of religions study. These two types of midrash are approaches through which the Scriptures and the holy texts can be examined. There are specific traits embedded within the halakhic midrashism and the midrash rabba which make them easy to identify for the religious scholar. This paper shall illustrate the major differenced which emerge in the study of the halakhic midrashism and the midrash rabba.

The Halakhic Midrashim:
The halakhic midrashim are a specific genre of midrash texts. They correspond to the midrash of principle interpretations of the Scripture. The origin of halakhic midrashim is from the Tanakh. There are several principle forms of halakhic midrashim, and are consolidated on the texts of Leviticus and Deuteronomy. However, the most important of the halakhic midrashim are those which are found concerning the Book of Exodus. The strategy used in assessing all halakhic midrashim is that of exegetical strategy, or a critical and explanatory method through which to approach the original holy texts.

The principle function of the halakhic midrashim is to identify and promote a concept of law based upon the content of the Scripture. In reading a text through the methods and strategies consolidated within halakhic midrashim, it is assumed that the reader is seeking to identify the concepts of law and social order that are contained within the original text. This is the principle reason as to why the teachings of Exodus, Leviticus, and Deuteronomy are so important within the halakhic midrashim: These three books of the bible tend to contain a significant number of legal and social commentaries which can be examined through exegetical practices and their meaning interpreted. A secondary function of the halakhic midrashim was to document the exegesis of the Jews. The emphasis on the exodus suggests embedded cultural, social, and legal norms for the Jewish people. The study of the exodus and the early travels of the Jews thus is believed in halakhic midrashim to characterize a series of norms which convey acceptable behaviors.

As a genre of midrash, all halakhic midrashim tend to have emerged around 400 CE. Theologists identify the emergence of the halakhic midrashim as a strategy through which the rabbis were able to ensure communication of Jewish law to Jews. This was an important concept within Judaism, after the Jews were removed from their homeland, for there was no appropriate centralized system of laws. The creation of the halakhic midrashim served as both a literal translation of meaning from the Scriptures, and also helped encompass a set of “hermeneutic” laws or rules. It has been argued that all investigation of the Torah helps serve this purpose to some extent, for the study of the holy texts and the Scripture should automatically convey a sense of behavioral law to the reader. In this sense, there are traditional halakhic midrashim and there are, potentially, a general form of halakhic midrashim which emerges from the study of texts other than Exodus, Leviticus, and Deuteronomy. This perspective on halakhic midrashim has created a classification between Soferim halakhic midrashim and Tannaim halakhic midrashim, and a more moderns of the halakhic midrashim. The latter forms of halakhic midrashim are, however, subject to significant debate and it is extremely unlikely that there is any realistic closure or conclusions which will enter Jewish halakhic midrashim cannon through the modern interpretation of events.

The Midrash Rabba:
The midrash rabba (also spelled as the midrash raba and midrash rabbah) is a record of the social and the historical events which occurred in the lives of the Jewish people. Kugel (no date) writes that “in exile, and all the more so afterward, the divine word was increasingly a text, and became the more hallowed the more the parchment yellowed and turned brown and cracked” (Kugel, no date, 135). This created an emphasis on the authority of the texts as self-explanatory, rather than rationalized in any way, shape, or form. Some of the texts and their subsequent midrash became sacred for no other reason than the length of their existence. This, some theologians have stressed, has created problems with the interpretation of what is a sacred text and what texts are exist for the purpose of self-affirmation. Kugel suggests that there is a general emphasis on “a sense of consequentiality” among most midrash cannon (Ibid, 139). The emphasis on what occurs from the course of one’s initial actions cannot be overemphasized, he writes, and also suggests that there is a highly “linear” interpretation of how and why the midrash texts are explored (Ibid.). These facts suggest that there are norms which are conveyed to the reader through the holy texts. These norms, particularly social and cultural norms, are embedded in the midrash rabba.

Like the texts that comprise the halakhic midrashim cannon, the midrash rabba are dated to specific periods within Jewish history. Unlike the halakhic midrashim, however, there is an increasing emphasis on the patterns which emerge from explanations, interpretations, and expositions of the passages. The halakhic midrashim stresses an emphasis on the actuality of law, while the midrash rabba promote an awareness of the context in which meaning arises. This should not, however, suggest that the meaning contained within the midrash rabba is any less concise than that found within the halakhic midrashim for the scholar of Judaism. Long emphasis on the content of the texts stresses that there are patterns found in midrash rabba which demand specific behaviors from the individuals. Moreover, while the halakhic midrashim can be read sequentially and the content acquired from each successive passage, the midrash rabba can be integrated into each other on a continuous train of thought. Frequently, interpretations of the midrash rabba are achieved when the sum of the text is explored as opposed to the individual passages. For example, using a midrash rabba reading of the Book of Genesis, Neusner stresses that “it is not possible to view the whole as an artificial construct; it seems to me clear that it is a cogent and pointed statement, beginning middle, and end, even though bits and pieces of available material may have served the author [in creating the whole” (Neusner, no date, 4). Assessing the path of the midrash rabba is, in short, attempting to place the text within greater context. This is true on both levels of social and textual context.

The Differences Between the Texts:
Boyarin writes in “Towards a New Theory of Midrash” that the debate over the interpretations of holy text is complicated because there is no inherent validity present within the text which transcends the cultural interpretations of the reader. He writes that “reality is always represented through the texts that refer to other texts, through language that is a construction of the historical, ideological, and social systems of a people” (Boyarin, no date, 14). The strategies embedded within interpreting the halakhic midrashism and the mishram rabbi thus are not only reflections of the social and legal codes which are embedded within the Scriptures, but are also means through which the early interpretations of the text stressed specific outcomes based upon the codes which the early authors thought were socially appropriate. For example, in “A Meditation on Parshat Lech Lecha,” a midrash rabba text, author Yakov Newman characterizes the rules set forth by the early interpretation as curbing the highly accepting behavior of the readers. The passage of the initial Scripture reads "Lech lecha el haarets asher areka” which is translated according to the midrash rabba as “Go, for you, to the land which I will show you,” (Newman, 2003, Online source). Newman continues in noting that:

These words of the Lord don't specify a distinct locale, but the phrase, "for you" implies an existential journey that is determinate: "Go to yourself, for yourself." Doing such, however, will involve a radical changing of physical context. In order to get there. It is all the matrix of reality, but being caught only in one part of it is what we sense as physical determinism; the win-lose jungle.

Get into a different ecosytem. Break the fixation that makes it impossible to change the script. Those who love me most, most demand that I play my learned role. So they can play theirs. In this script, winners and losers, lose.

Newman’s theme in interpreting these passages is that there is a general acceptance in the Scripture to the will of God, and that God needs to continuously break this pattern to encourage social change within His people. If this does not occur, there is a general tendency to accept the wide range of conditions which occur in one’s life, despite any likely negative impact that the individual or their community would experience. There is thus a desire to shake up the existing system within the midrash rabba, identifying human behavior as willing to engage in what is easy and commonplace because they believe that this process is expected of them. In this, it is clear that there is an emphasis on how, why, and to what extent the midrash rabba were used to contextualize the status of the text as opposed to isolating it and dictating policy and law, as occurs within the study of the halakhic midrashim.

Conclusion:
The traits embedded within the halakhic midrashim and the midrash rabba stress different purposes for these two interpretations of holy text and Scripture. Both are strategies through which the holy texts and Scripture can be applied to the lives of the average individual. However, while the midrash rabba is less restrictive in terms of dictating law than the halakhic midrashim, both interpretations are grounded heavily within perceptual expectations. These expectations and designed to evoke order from the Jewish population.

The differences between the halakhic midrashim and the midrash rabba are clear. The historical setting of both texts creates an atmosphere of authority for these two modes of interpretation. Stressing the age and the authenticity of the texts is designed to promote the authority of the texts, but the halakhic midrashim and the midrash rabba methods use the texts differently. The major differences in the texts are in terms of their interpretation and their application. The halakhic midrashim is a system of laws, which spill into social order and social norms at some points in the process. In contrast, the midrash rabba stresses the social order within a broad context. These interpretations can be combined to help create a general overview of how and why the behavior of the Jews has been dictated through Scripture and holy texts.

Works Cited:
Boyarin, D. (No date) Intertextuality and the Reading of Midrash. Inianapolis, IN.: Indiana University Press.
Kugel, James. “Two Introductions to Midrash.”
Neusner, J. (No date.) Genesis Rabbah: The Judaic Commentary to the Book of Genesis a New American Translation. Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press.
Newman, Yakov. (2003) “Teshuva III: Working Through the World.” Acquired 15 February 2005 at by Yakov Newman http://www.danishgrove.com/newman/writings/2002-11-04-teshuva3.html

Defining Midrash

Defining the Midrash:
Challenges and Controversy


Introduction:
In the study of Judaism, an emphasis on interpretation is found within the term midrash. The exploration of what it means to apply a midrash is a complicated process, in large part due to the use of the term as itself a definition of the interpretation of the Scripture. In attempting to explore and comprehend Scripture, the midrash of a specific interpretation suggests a particular form of ownership, in which the ideas conveyed correspond to a field of thought exclusive to that singular interpretation.

This paper shall seek to explore the midrash, and identify the major difficulties facing those who wish to adequately define this term. This paper shall conclude through identifying the midrash as a form of interpretation and a method through which the reader can approach holy text, thus suggesting that the midrash is a strategy through which the reader can encourage their comprehension of the text.

Controversy and Challenges Over Midrash:
The emergence of controversy over defining the term midrash occurs in the application of the word. Simply put, there are multiple meanings through which the term midrash can be applied, and all of them are accurate (Stern, 1998; 14). Readings on the midrash suggest three common uses of the term in Judaism:

- A midrash is a foundational ideology, in which it is the strategy applied to approaching a concept, passage, or theme within holy text; or
- A midrash is a collected text of teachings which correspond to a single school of thought on a particular element of Judaism; or
- A midrash is an exclusive translation or interpretation common to a selected passage from a holy text.

What is common within these three uses of the term midrash is that there is a heavy emphasis on interpretation and ownership. Kugel (no date) stresses that this occurs from the innermost nature of what the midrash is, where the midrash is a strategy through which agreement can occur over themes, or motifs, within holy passages. The wider motifs found within holy text can, Kugel suggests, generally are assessed through agreement among its audience. Specific motifs, however, are more difficult to assess. Kugel finds motifs can be deconstructed into midrash through careful reading and through identification of the themes found within each, particularly the “exegetical motif” found therein (Kogel, no date, 8). He defines this as the “underlying idea about how to explain a biblical text that becomes the basis, or part of the basis, or a narrative explanation” (Ibid.). He also stresses that most motifs within the analysis of Scripture are traditional interpretations of such, where “it is an ancient interpreter’s hypothesis about what a particular detail in the Bible may be trying to imply” (Ibid.).

Yet while Kugel suggests that the midrash is steeped in traditionalism, the use of the midrash as a mode of interpretation suggests that this term communicates an additional emphasis on ongoing assessment of Scripture and holy texts. Boyarin (no date) finds that those who are engaged in the debate over the midrash labor “under a curious confusion between the process of reading the midrash and the process of producing midrash” (Boyarin, no date, 452). This suggests that there is a gap which exists between the ability to acquire this information and the ability to convey this information to additional readers.

Controversy over the midrash tends to become centralized in this gap, which can be referred to as the communications process (Fraadue, no date, 61). The midrash as text can be seen as Scripture. For argument’s sake, let’s explore this as one would a translation from French into English. The original thought continues to persist in the French version of the text, yet the English translation is embedded with what the translator believed the original author wished to say. And, despite how close the translator works to accurately convey this intent in their translation, it is highly likely that this process will create the same gap between text and interpretation which Boyarin has noted. Boyarin offers as an alternative a “hermeneutic account” of what it means to be midrash, in which “the texts of the Prophets and the Writings were understood as a key to the decoding of difficult verses in the Torah, such that when the two texts are read together the narrative problems of the particular verses are removed” (Ibid, 453). Again, this citation reflects that the gap which appears to persist between the original text and the interpretation of the text occurs through problems over how, why, and to what extent the original meaning of the piece was lost.

Defining the Midrash:
Problems with realizing an effective definition of the term midrash are thus lost in the many uses of the term, as well as the perceptions which its users embed into the term midrash. At its most basic level, it can very easily be argued that the interpretation of the term midrash is complicated merely through the highly subjective nature of everything which this term encompasses. The midrash as text emerges from a school of thought, and thus is the representation of an ancient, historical, or modern interpretation of holy passages. The midrash as ideology stresses the perceptions embedded within following this school of though: This in turn suggests a general conformity of perception when reading passages which agree with one’s personal acceptance of a midrash, but will automatically create conflict when approaching a midrash from a different perspective. These elements, when embedded within the study of what is means to be a midrash, stress the roles of midrash as highly subjective and inherently vulnerable to debate and controversy.

If the term midrash were applies specifically to the schools of thought that are used to interpret these passages, the term would be extremely easy to define. In this sense, midrash would merely imply the ownership of the passage. To return to the earlier example of translating a passage from French into English, a midrash would place a marker or stamp upon the ownership of the holy text, suggesting that the interpretation can be traced back to those who created it. Similarly, if the term midrash were applies specifically to the schools of thought surrounding the Scriptures and the holy texts, this would also imply ownership of a sort.

Yet neither of these uses are adequate, for the application of the term midrash is not only extremely subjective and vulnerable to interpretation, but also engages the perceptions of the readers. There are references to the development of a personal midrash, or outlook, through which the individual can themselves approach the holy texts within their personal lives. In this sense, the term is not merely about ownership of ideas or the modes through which the original interpretations are communicated to the reader, but apply to the personal modes through which the reader acquires the knowledge from the text.

In this sense, there are multiple interpretations of midrash. There are the first three interpretations, as previously clarified, but there is also the new mode of comprehending the text through one’s own perceptions. There is thus one final midrash, which is exclusive to the individual, and suggests that there is a mode through which knowledge is communicated directly to the person. Kugel refers to this as “pulling all this together in a cohesive scenario” (Kugel, no date, 149). There is midrash as the origin of the verse, there is midrash as the interpretation of the verse, there is midrash as the school of thought from which the individual can perceive the verse, and finally there is the midrash through which the individual does finally perceive the verse. Kogel illustrates this situation through exploring the seemingly transparent interpretation of Psalm 81. The application of these multiple midrash creates an environment in which the entire general intent of the piece can be mutilated beyond belief, or adapted for the general benefit and welfare of the reader.

Thus, what is most challenging about defining the midrash is that it does not function in isolation. The multitude of interpretations characterizes not only the individual’s perceptions of the holy text, but also suggest that there is no inherently correct definition of the text itself. This view is in keeping with Judaism, in which it is identified that God requests the reader to bring their own views to their readings of the texts (Stern, 1998, 40). The holy texts and the Scripture are therefore vulnerable to subjective interpretation from internal and external levels.

With all of these factors involved, it is without question that the term midrash is so difficult to clarify. The term not only has a wide range of uses, but is engaged as a clarifying term within text which was never intended to be defined, merely studied. The use of the term midrash thus can be explored in the form of a process or the practice of approaching the holy texts of Judaism, but it can never be fully defined.

Conclusion:
The sum of uses of the term midrash creates a difficult scenario for the student of Judaism and the holy scriptures. It can be concluded that the use of the term midrash is itself subject to interpretation. The numerous levels through which this term is applied characterizes the texts, and creates a clear understanding of how, why, and to what extent they are subject to the vulnerabilities inherent in perception.

Unfortunately, these conditions do not help resolve the issues embedded within the discussion of what a midrash is, nor how these many modes of interpretation fully impact the study of holy texts. Finally -- and this point is of extreme importance for those who engage in the study of midrash – these wide ranges of the use of the term midrash mean that there is no permanent ownership of any given passage from the holy text. There is no legitimacy of ownership within these texts, nor is there anything more conclusive than a general sense of meaning invested therein. Highly subjective, open to all manner of debate and perception, the holy scriptures might be approached and studied through the use of midrash but it can be concluded that nothing is resolved from this process.

These are the conditions that make it all but impossible to conclusively define what a midrash is, or how it is applied, or to what extent it ultimately affects the study of holy texts and Scripture. The number of variables that are invested within this single, seemingly simple term complicate the study of holy texts. However, as the ultimate use of all holy texts is to define and describe the relationship of the individual with God, it is perhaps for the best that this situation is so highly complex and convoluted. In this sense, the individual is forced to communicate with the holy texts through the application of their own midrash, as opposed to having the answers provided to them from definitive outside sources.

Works Cited:
Boyarin, Daniel. “Intertextuality and the Reading of Midrash.” Indiana Studies in Biblical Literature. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press. 1990.
Fraade, Steven D. “From Tradition to Commentary: Torah and Its Interpretation in the Midrash Sifrei to Deuteronomy.”
Kugel, James. “Two Introductions to Midrash.”
Stern, David. Midrash and Theory: Ancient Jewish Exegesis and Contemporary Literary Study. Boston: Northwestern University Press. 1998.

Friday, June 6, 2008

Letter to the Pope - Response to the Popes letter to his Bishops on Homosexuality

B.S.D


Your Holiness;

I write this with all due consideration that must be given to a person of your high position and spiritual comfort. My intentions in writing this letter are not to put forth a controversial perspective that differs from your own, but to offer my own critical views on a subject that currently offers significant challenges to the religious nations of the world.

As a pulpit Rabbi, I am often called to task regarding decisions I make, although I attempt to ensure that these decisions are done with the good of my congregants in mind, there are frequently differences in opinion. I attempt to reduce dissent among my congregation by following the guidelines established by the Halacha – Judaic Law.
Some years ago, I permitted a young man to conduct services and read from the holy Torah.

Immediately after the services I received a barrage of complaints from elders of the congregation for my decision… but not for his ability, the manner in which he led the congregation in divine prayer, or for his conduct – which was exceptional! – while on the pulpit. Rather, the rejection of this young man was directly attributed to his open admittance of his homosexuality, and I was called to task for allowing such a person to participate in religious services as intercessor for the congregation.

When I allowed this young man to act as Shaliach Tzibbur - a messenger of the people before God, I was fully aware of his sexual predilections. Moreover, I did not see these as a valid reason for restricting his contact with our Lord, nor preventing him from serving as my congregation’s mouthpiece during his public participation in divine services.

Following his service, I was called before the Synagogue Board of Directors and asked to justify my decision. I did not see that there was all that much to justify, or even to rationalize, and I explained to them that all members of our congregation were equal before God and thus this one individual had every right to stand before us and speak on our behalf to God for our consolation.

Then, I put forth the argument that our congregation needed to move forward and accept the fact that homosexuality was part of the world as a whole. Until recently, I said, homosexuality was a word whispered only with revulsion or derision, but those who are openly gay ask for recognition within our communities and it is a test of our character whether we shun them or treat them as equals.

Since this time, I have become adamant concerning the integration of homosexuals into the community at large. Homosexuality and its many issues are part of our lives, and it is irrational to ignore these concerns and hope that they fade away; we find ourselves confronted with the increasingly-frightening AIDS epidemic, homosexuality in the theatre and in literature, and by the repercussions of the widening legal battles over the status of homosexuals.

Judaism as a whole might still be resistant to these concepts, but there is increasing momentum towards recognizing homosexuality within our faith. Synagogues that are accepting of homosexuality and openly gay leaders have come forth, forcing us to engage in the debate over how best to identify and respond to issues of homosexuality when these are present within our own houses of worship. Such persons are not alien because of their sexuality, they have the same basic needs of the faith that those who are heterosexual experience and it is only through creating an open and equitable environment that homosexuals can find their place within our shared faith.

If I understand your position correctly, you maintain that homosexuality is aberrant and that any decision to permit homosexuality within the Church merely helps reduce the standards that we place upon appropriate behaviors, which will in turn result in increases of “irrational and violent ways.” This leaves us in a precarious position; we can ignore homosexuality and continue to close ourselves against it and thus hope that those who are openly gay will simply fade away. Or, we can accept that homosexuality has made significant inroads into the secular community and that closing the faith to them is a fool’s gambit, one that cannot hope to yield any positive changes over the long term.

Within my congregation, I have determined that it is both appropriate and in keeping with God’s will to welcome those who openly engage in homosexuality. I recognize that I must rationalize this decision for others, especially in light of the taboo against homosexuality that is found within the Torah and the Bible.

There is an unquestionable prohibition against homosexuality within both the Torah and the Bible. These holy texts unequivocally state that the homosexual act between two consenting adult males is a capital crime. Therefore, homosexuality is an activity that no traditional Jew can engage in, endorse, accept, or approve of.

Despite this initial biblical negative, there is much to discuss regarding our attitude to the homosexual:
1) The issue of the homosexual's place in the community,
2) The question of approach to and the treatment of the homosexual,
3) The problem of the homosexual's rights and acceptance in society, and
4) The translation of the text.
I shall, for purposes of brevity, address this last point first. Male homosexuality was prohibited in these texts, but astute arguments have been made concerning mistakes made in translation that have themselves evolved into scripture. Those who study the history of the holy texts argue that mistranslation of homosexuality has significantly changed the original presentation of homosexuality. Initially, it was forbidden that homosexuality occur in which one male receives another, thus emulating sexual congress with a woman and suggesting that a male had debased himself to the level of the female. Additionally, translations of the Bible by monks have indicated that those responsible for translation incorporated their own personal perspectives, and it has been documented that one of the most prolific translators was aggressively adverse to homosexuality and thus strengthened the text to exclude such practices.

As to the first three points, these require significant consideration. I understand clearly that my point of view is based on Judaic teachings and understanding of Rabbinic Law. However your holiness in his letter to the Bishops made the following reference:

The community of faith today, in unbroken continuity with the Jewish and Christian communities within which the ancient Scriptures were written, continues to be nourished by those same Scriptures and by the Spirit of Truth whose Word they are.

I would ask your Holiness to focus on the following question. "What is Judaism's view of the Jewish homosexual?"

I once read that the only appropriate answer to this question is "There is no such individual"
To explain this rather radical statement, one must go back to the structure that Jewish Law - Halacha places upon Jewish society. In this structure there are certain legal personalities who constitute the dramatis personae of the Jewish community.
1) A Cohen (one who is born into the Priesthood or divinely elevated to the
Priesthood) is such a personality,
2) As is a Levi.
3) A woman is such a personality,
4) As is a slave or a king.
5) Other "characters" populate the Jewish landscape. The Bastard and the High
Priest, the Minor and the Adult.

Each of those personalities has a designated position within the order that God has created for this living world. However, the homosexual is not included within this designation of persons. Indeed, the homosexual is rarely referred to at all within the Jewish Legal – Halachic writings, and it is quite difficult to find a term designated specifically towards the description of homosexuality. If one were to forcibly fit homosexuals into a Halachic category, they would fall into the general category of mumar l'teiavon (one whose desires put him in opposition to Torah law), specifically mumar l'mishkav zachor (one who because of his repeated involvement in homosexual activity is in opposition to Torah law). Such a category exists in Halachic literature, is clearly defined and places the homosexual on an equal footing with other mumarim – people who blemished because they violate other Jewish laws.

It seems clear from this that Halacha – Judaic Law never viewed the homosexual as a member of a unique category or as different from the non-homosexual. He has no greater or lesser rights or obligations. He deserves no special treatment, neither concessions nor any special vilification, save for that which is allocated to conventional mumarim – ritually blemished individuals.

Therefore I posit that in fact, the term "homosexual" is an essentially inappropriate description, as it appears to constitute the person as a whole as opposed to one aspect of the individual’s personality. There are therefore no “homosexuals” within Judaism, but there are instead persons engaged in homosexual activity.

This approach has great intuitive appeal for the scholar of Jewish scripture, as contextualizing the sum of the individual according to their sexual desires and activities does a disservice to the concept of spiritual growth both within the individual and among the community.

This perspective also helps transform the setting in which homosexuality is perceived. If the individual is contextualized as a person who engages in homosexual activities instead of being merely a homosexual, the very nature of identity has been transformed. If one is labeled and defined by the term "homosexual", he is consequently different than the heterosexual. As such, he will struggle his rights as a member of a minority status. Yet if being “homosexual” is a term that refers to a description of an activity, then the individual practicing this activity remains an undifferentiated member of society, and if Jewish he is therefore by default a part of Jewish society. He need not feel irreparably and irretrievably stigmatized, and he need not feel excluded from the community. In the same way that the adulterer, the practitioner of pre-marital sex, the violator of the holy Shabbat, or the speaker of gossip all enter the synagogue and feel at home while individually dealing with whatever guilt they carry as a result of their sinful activities, so,
too, the individual involved in homosexual activity can and should enter the synagogue and feel himself to be part of the community.

This should not suggest that those who commit sins are excluded from repentance. The
adulterer, the violator of the holy Shabbat, et al are duty-bound to change their ways, including teshuva - repentance, and the mumar l'mishkav zachor as an obligation to change one’s inappropriate behaviors. If, as many believe, homosexuality is not a choice but rather a genetic preference, it is not possible for such a profound change in behaviors to occur; however, this is another wrinkle in the debate and is theoretically separate from the current discussion.

Your Holiness, in your letter you quoted the Torah and made references to the terms used to describe prohibition and sin of homosexual activity. As you well know the Torah uses the term "toeivah" - abomination in connection with homosexuality. Some may feel that its appearance in this context precludes treating the practitioner of homosexuality in the same way that one would treat an individual who is guilty of a different sin. The problem with this suggestion is that to be consistent we would require similarly negative treatment of the person who eats non-kosher food, the idolater, the unethical business man and the individual who remarries a woman who, since her divorce from him, has entered and left (by death or divorce) into another marriage to another man.

All of these individuals are guilty of committing a toeivah - abomination, according to the respective verses that prohibit the particular activity. If we are going to ostracize the individual who commits homosexual acts, then we must ostracize these individuals as well. Since we do not take this approach in the other cases, we should not do so in dealing with the individual involved in homosexual activity. How then to understand the toeivah designation?

In the Encyclopedia Judaica Yearbook, Dr. Norman Lamm defines toeivah in aesthetic terms. These actions are repulsive in and of themselves; no rationale or explanation is necessary.

Rather, the divine aspect within the human being is automatically and instinctively repelled by these activities. The fact that any number of individuals are possessed of a deadened spiritual sensitivity that allows them to accept or even participate in the acts in question, does not mean that the spiritually sensitive individual allows his revulsion to be diminished nor does he apologize for that revulsion. Further, it is important to note that the wording of the verses in question indicates that this revulsion is directed only at the act and not at its perpetrator. The perpetrator is not to be ostracized. One who commits a toeivah is halachically and societally no different than one who commits a transgression of a non-toeivah law of equal severity.

In conclusion, we have long tolerated, worked with and even welcomed and accepted violators of many religious laws within our community. It is necessary, therefore, to couple our tolerance of the individual with disapproval of the activity. This must then be combined with an expectation and hope that the individual will change his behavior.

I therefore urge you to reconsider the position of the Church with respect to people who are engaged in homosexual activity. I truly believe that whilst we must, maintain our condemnation of the act, we ought to refrain from dealing punitively with the offender.

I pray that God grant you many more years of vigor of mind and body.

Shalom

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Synagogues - Some major characteristics of the earliest Synagogue in North America

Some of the major characteristics of early Jewish synagogues within North America were initially defined through religious tolerance. Jews were in a decided minority consisting of “three thousand out of more than three million” but who were also accepted due to the socio-cultural norms placed upon acceptance of diverse religions (Tulchinsky 10). Those Jews who determined to settle in Canada immigrated northward from New York and made an endeavor to maintain a close connection to the Jewish community found therein, suggesting that ties persisted between Canadian and American synagogues. Additionally, the authority acquired by immigrant Jews into Canada helped this community attain financial and physical (e.g.: land wealth) capital, which could then be applied to promoting the Jewish community and the sustainability of same. One source remarks that as “middle class urbanites, Canadian Jews were in the same economic and political camp as the Anglo Saxon elites that governed the colony and dominated its commerce” (Tulchinsky 18-19).

The centralized placement of synagogues and Jewish communities within urban centers helped Judaism spread out into rural communities. Similarly, the synagogues tended to have powerful centralized governing systems through which prominent individuals were appointed to office; these individuals also tended to stress the importance of following Judaic law, which in turn ensured that the early years of Canadian Judaism did not differ dramatically from its roots. Those wishing to take a say in the direction of the synagogues were required to pay a steep entry fee, which served the dual purposes of ensuring the fiscal stability of the synagogue while also ensuring that its participating members would be tied to its welfare. However, in New York, the continued influx of immigrants who wished to enter the Jewish community suggested – correctly – that orthodox traditionalists from the old country would dominate the overall direction of the synagogue. However, those who were becoming increasingly integrated into the American popular ideology and social structures chose to chart their own paths, a process that “necessitated the writing and rewriting of the synagogue’s constitution” (Eidelman 75).

With some exceptions, such traits persisted for at least five decades. This further ensured that the Canadian Jews were able to develop and maintain control over their respective communities. Indeed, during a hiring period in the 1830s, one synagogue sought to acquire a leader who would further strengthen the community’s reliance on ritual, ceremony, and even the reading of holy texts in Hebrew. These practices were objected as isolationist by some but their supporters stressed that preserving an iron-cast control over the construction and evolution of new synagogues was the point. As a result, there were schisms within the community between those who wished to preserve orthodox traditions and those who wished to integrate a greater degree of tolerance and general acceptance within the synagogue. Additionally, political and social pressures affected these perceptions; the decision to grant Jews full rights as Canadian citizens was long in coming and created significant controversy among both non-Jews and Jews over which aspects of the social order were open to all members and which were better off shuttered.






Works Cited

Eidelman, Jay. M. “Kissing Cousins: The Early History of Congrgations Shearith Israel of New York City and Montreal.”

Elazar, Daniel J., Michael Brown, and Ira Robinson, eds. Not Written in Stone: Jews, Constitutions, and Constitutionalism in Canada. Ottawa: University of Ottawa Press.

Speisman, Stephen A. The Jews of Toronto: A History to 1937. New York: McClelland and Stewart.

Tulchinsky, Gerald. Taking Root: The Origins of the Canadian Jewish Community. New York: Lester Publishing Ltd.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Why A Traditional Jewish Funeral

Recently I have been asked by families why should they provide a traditional Jewish funeral to their loved as opposed to cremation or freezing etc. Here is my response to all of you who ask that question.

Weddings and funerals are two of the last communal activities in which friends and family members gather together to pay their respects. Within the modern social setting, the majority of events that were once significant social concerns have been replaced or transformed. Events such as festivals or religious holidays have lost much of their luster, leaving fewer reasons for persons to join together and celebrate communal bonds. The traditional Jewish funeral is arguably one of the last forums in which it is expected that the participants will give themselves wholly over to the memory of the departed loved one and the reaffirmation of those who remain alive on earth.

In the Jewish custom, the rites involved in the processes of mourning are a part of paying respect to the dead, and therefore it is necessary to adhere to these (Lamm 13). The use of ritual can be used to further unite the mourners in a shared sense of purpose. The respect given to the body under halachah (rabbinical law) helps to provide guidelines that can bring the mourners together and help to show honor towards and emotional commitment to the departed (Zemer 61). For example, there are strong proscriptions against cremation in the Jewish tradition, as cremation is considered to be a desecration of the body; mutilation of any type following death is perceived as a violation of the rights of the deceased. Similar objections have been raised towards autopsies and other after-death processes that affect a body (Lamm 38). There are also canonical objections in the Scripture to cremation as a means of preparing the body, as burning has traditionally been used as a means of punishment or shame for those whom deserved this type of treatment following death (e.g., prisoners, witches, etc.). In the modern era, it is no longer sensible to believe that cremation is dishonorable, and especially senseless to see the process of cremation as purposefully disposing of a witch. The decision to cremate a body, however, is nevertheless a violation of tradition, and it is probable that cremation will insult or horrify some of the persons attending the funeral. As the service is designed to unite the assembled friends and family, it is recommended that cremation be avoided to help promote unity and avoid conflict and strife among the assembled mourners. The funeral is, after all, a place in which emotions are likely to run high regardless of the method of burial, and it would be inappropriate to use a method that would inflame negative responses.

The disposal of the body through burial is also an example of socially and ecologically-responsible techniques. In Jewish tradition, rituals have been developed through which the body is interred or buried within a comparatively short amount of time. There is no wake, and the body is watched at all times from the point of death to the point of burial. Sitting with the body takes its origins from a time in which a body could be scavenged by vermin, which would not only have been disrespectful to the deceased but also could increase the risk for plague or contamination among those handling the corpse. The rite of immediate burial with minimum accompanying frills is also derived from this tradition, and in the modern setting it is likely to incorporate a lack of embalming fluid or any other form of preservative. Yet, conversely, the practice of entombing a body in a simple wooden casket is also socially conscious, where the body can decompose as quickly as possible and free up the existing burial grounds for other deceased persons. These practices should be openly welcomed by persons in the modern era, as these demonstrate strong commitment to the health and well-being of the living while also paying respect to the dead. Indeed, as modern burial practices are increasingly chemically-dependent, a response to this has been for ecologically-minded persons to request burials devoid of chemicals and are in simple wooden coffins (Chamberlain and Pearson 113). It is quite possible that these processes will increase the popularity of the traditional Jewish funeral, even among non-Jews.

The use of the grave site or the internment station is also a fundamental part of the Jewish burial. These stations are semi-permanent, in that they will fade over the centuries, but these do provide an exceptional illusion of permanency for the mourners. When burial or internment occurs over multiple generations, the location in which this occurs takes on a greater purpose for the family. The descendents are able to approach this location and recognize that their ancestors were tied to the land, as this patch of earth holds sentimental significance even if the bodies themselves are gone. As time passes, each body that is added to a family plot or cemetery site indicates that the family continues to establish itself, and its legacy is not only preserved in death but also in the successive generations that are able to visit this location.

Reliance on Jewish tradition during a funeral also has one very important outcome: The immediate family does not have to make decisions concerning the treatment and the burial of their loved one’s body. In a scenario where the ritualistic processes of death and burial are affirmed through millennia of practice, this helps the mourners concentrate on their loss as opposed to decisions concerning coffins, between the options of cremation or burial, or even when and where the memorial service will be held. A highly structured service that lasts from the time of death until sitting shiva has been completed seven days later helps to provide a sense of purpose and emotional completion for the family, without distracting them through frivolous concerns.



Works Cited

Chamberlain, Andrew T. & Pearson, Michael P. Earthly Remains: The History and Science of Preserved Human Bodies. New York: Oxford University Press, USA. 2002.

Lamm, Maurice. The Jewish Way in Death and Mourning. New York: Jonathan David Publishers. 2000.

Zemer, Moshe. Evolving Halakhah: A Progressive Approach to Traditional Jewish Law. New York: Jewish Lights Publishing. 2003.