According to Jewish Law it is the practice to refrain from getting married between Passover and Shavuot – until Lag B’Omer (Shulchan Aruch 493:1). Lag B’Omer celebrates the 33rd day of the counting of the Omer, a verbal counting of each of the 49 days from Passover till Shavuot (Leviticus 23:15-16). It is recorded that this practice serves as a memorial for the students of Rabbi Akiva, Tanna of the middle of the 2nd century, who perished during this period of time. Their deaths came to an end (or at least a break) on Lag B’Omer. But, why did the students of Rabbi Akiva die? And why would we mourn their death by refraining from getting married?
We can start to answer these questions by looking at the Gemara in Yevamot. There we learn:
Rabbi Akiva had 12,000 pairs of disciples from Gabbata to Antipatris; and all of them died at the same time because they did not treat each other with respect. The world remained desolate until Rabbi Akiva came to our Masters in the South and taught the Torah to them. These were Rabbi Meir, Rabbi Yehuda, Rabbi Yose, Rabbi Shimon and Rabbi Elazar ben Shammua; and it was they who revived the Torah at that time. A Tanna taught: “All of them died between Passover and Shavuot”. (Yevamot 62b)
It seems strange that Rabbi Akiva’s students died because they did “not treat each other with respect”. Rabbi Akiva taught that “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18) is the great underlying principle in the entire Torah (Torat Kehonim 4:12 and Talmud Yerushalmi, Nedarim 9:4).It would be surprising that even just one student of this great Tanna did not learn such a basic lesson. What is the additional significance of the quantity of students who died?
It might be helpful to learn some more about who Rabbi Akiva was as a teacher. Despite his humble beginnings as a shepherd, Rabbi Akiva became a tremendous scholar. And while he had a tremendous effect on Jewish life, he was not without flaws. We learn in the Gemara that during the 24 years in which he accumulated these 24,000 students he did not see his wife once (Ketubot 62b-63a). There is no doubt that Rabbi Akiva loved his wife Rachel dearly. He gave his wife credit for all of the Torah they learned during his time away from her. When his students first met his wife he told them explicitly that they were all indebted to his wife. And here is the issue. While living apart from his wife for all of those years Rabbi Akiva did not show his students the daily habits of respect. How were his students to learn how to treat each other with respect if Rabbi Akiva did not model this for them?
On Lag B’Omer we should take a moment and try to learn the lesson that evaded Rabbi Akiva’s students. How should we treat each other with respect? It is clearly not enough to just talk about it. If we want to teach respect we need to model it.
It is in light of this that we see the real power of Jewish camp as an educational institution. As the adage goes, “Tell me and I forget, show me and I remember, involve me and I understand.” In school we are told a lot of things, but in camp the staff members model the most important lessons. And on the highest level we are all asked to get involved in creating the community.
Unlike many parents who send their children to overnight camp, I have seen many camps. As the Director of Jewish Education at the Foundation for Jewish Camp I spend my summers on the road visiting various types of Jewish camps across North America. This summer my wife and I are sending our eldest child on his first overnight camping experience. Despite all of my experience, I have anxiety about sending our child away. Just like every other parent, there is no doubt that part of this anxiety is the irrational fear of sending our baby away. But, there is another part of this anxiety which is realizing that while he will always be our baby, when he returns he will have grown up so much. At camp he will experience being included in a community of his own. There he will make deep friendships of his own design. There he will make his own connections to his heritage. There he will have a new sense of independence. And all of this will happen because we will not be there. We have chosen a camp that has role models who manifest our family’s highest values, but in the end he will need to buy into these values for himself. The trick seems to be in the fact that these role models are not telling him who to be, but rather inspiring him to make choices based on their profound example.
It is interesting to reflect on the fact that many of the camps that we all send our children to are not so new. Actually, many of them got their start in the late 1940’s or 1950’s. This was a profound period of growth for institutions in the North American Jewish community as it was in the newly founded State of Israel. This is not coincidental. After the cataclysm of the Holocaust we needed a place to call our own. Both Israel and camps speak to a renaissance of Jewish life. In so much of history we found ourselves defined by those around us. In a land or a camp of our own we found, and continue to find, a unique opportunity to define ourselves on our own terms.
This week we will celebrate the 65th anniversary of Israel’s Independence. Israel is an amazing place and I am excited to introduce my children to our homeland. It represents the hope of two thousand years. But for now I am excited for our 9-year-old getting his first taste of independence at camp.
Yesterday I took my boys to an hour and a half class at a local synagogue entitled “Bully Proof”. It was taught by Taekwondo instructor Master Edwards. It was part of whole day Festival of Kindness in commemoration of the Holocaust. Master Edwards started by explaining the basic power dynamics of bullying. He went on to equip the children with some simple techniques to evade getting bullied. He asked them to affirm the comments that people say about them and then leave, laugh it off and leave, and finally to say “ Stop” and leave. To practice their responses Master Edwards brought some 12 year-olds to play the role of the bully. I was listening attentively to what the “bully” said to Yishama. First he commented on his large head of hair, then his large colorful Bukharin Kippah, and then of course his Tzitzit. While Yishama did exactly what he was supposed to do with great aplomb, I was deeply saddened.
What have I done to my children? Bullies feed on difference, singling out people who look or act different from themselves or the larger society. Have I marked my children to be bullied? What have I done to this poor little 6-year-old with a Jew-fro, huge colorful head coverings, and the flowing strings coming out of his pants? And yes, the fact that it is Yom HaShoah was sitting heavy in my consciousness.
Master Edwards ended the session by inviting each child to come up to the front, make a proclamation about themselves, and breaking a board with their fist. Each child came up and affirmed something deep about who they are and who they aspire to be. One said I am important, another said I am extraordinary, another I am significant, and yet another said I am magnificent. When it came time to Yishama to make his affirmation he came up and said, “I am a Robot.” Master Edwards asked him to say something meaningful about himself. Without missing a beat Yishama responded, “I am Jewish” and broke the board.
On the way home I asked him what it meant to affirm that he is Jewish. Being Jewish did not mean what I had feared it might have meant. Yishama responded, “It means that I have confidence.” Today is not just a day to remember the Holocaust, it is Yom HaZikaron laShoah ve-laG’vurah “Holocaust and Heroism Remembrance Day”. We should never forget the martyrs and the heroes. It is critical to remember how we lived as Jews with honor and pride, not just how we died. I have confidence that Yishama is “bully proof” and a hero for me.
I am excited. Tonight we will begin celebrating Chag Ha Aviv – Passover, our spring holiday – also named Chag HaMatzot the holiday of unleavened bread. But why do we eat unleavened bread –matzah – on Passover? We read in the Haggadah:
Because the dough of our fathers did not have time to become leavened before the King of the kings, the Holy One, blessed be God, revealed God’s self to them and redeemed them. Thus it is said: “They baked Matzah-cakes from the dough that they had brought out of Egypt, because it was not leavened; for they had been driven out of Egypt and could not delay, and they had also not prepared any [other] provisions.” (DIY Haggadah)
So yes, as the Haggadah says, when the time came for the Jews to finally leave, they did not delay. Yet, the final plague was not the first time they heard of their pending exodus. Moses came and told the slaves long in advance that they would be leaving. While they did not have Ziplocs and Tupperware to pack provisions for the trip, I still think they could have done a better job preparing for this arduous journey. They weathered the elements so well before that you’d assume they would have prepared some bagels for the trip. Now wouldn’t a holiday where we just needed to eat a lot of bagels be a great one? So,why matzah?
It is understandable that the slaves would be reticent to leave the only world they knew, could it be that was not the only reason that they were not well prepared for their trip? We all run late, waiting until the last-minute to get things done. Even when we are told that something is going to happen, or that we have an assignment, we can be surprised and unprepared when it comes to pass or be due. While completely natural and common place, this procrastination comes from an interesting lapse of faith. Maybe Pharaoh was not alone in doubting the God of the Israelites. While we call matzah “the bread of affliction,” it appears that the affliction itself is procrastination.
So we have Chag HaMatzot a holiday that you cannot do last-minute. We actually start to prepare for Passover a month in advance. As we eat this “bread of procrastination” it is a time to reflect on our faith. When I am running late or procrastinating, I assume that other people will understand because I am doing God’s work, but God forbid someone wastes my time… We all have ways we can grow; matzah is there to flatten us out and remind us that this growth might not fit neatly into our schedule. Which is why I am excited, because after spring comes summer and with summer comes … camp a time for growth for so many of our children!
Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove, the Rabbi of the esteemed Park Avenue Synagogue, recently spoke out on a very important issue. I wanted to thank him for pushing the community to rethink our stance on conversion and intermarriage. And while I might ultimately disagree with him on halakhic grounds, that is not the thrust of the argument I want to share here. My response is less based on the fact that I am an Orthodox Rabbi and more based on my commitment to strive to treat people equally.This is both born out of my desire to treat my neighbor as I would like to be treated and because I see that every human being is created in the image of God. This klal gadol -great underlying principle in the entire Torah- of being egalitarian is not uniquely a value of liberal Judaism (Torat Kehonim 4:12 and Talmud Yerushalmi, Nedarim 9:4).
I see that the issue of conversion and intermarriage today presents itself as a wonderful opportunity for liberal Judaism to redefine the paradigm of conversion and intermarriage within the context of their own values. Instead of sliding down the slippery slope of loosening their standards, why not define themselves robustly in accord with the communities’ highest values? For the Conservative Movement there is an assumption that only someone with a Jewish mother (and not necessarily Jewish father) is legally Jewish. Simply put, this is sexist. The Reform Movement has one approach to dealing with this sexism; they claim that both situations are fine. According to their ruling if either your mother or father is Jewish so are you. Orthodoxy has the opposite approach. In the name of keeping the tradition they are fine being sexist. But might we be missing another option?
Can we make everyone undergo a “conversion” of sorts? As I mentioned I am not limiting this to a halakhic discussion; obviously someone who has two Jewish parents does not need a legal conversion. This would deal with the sexism, but it might also present some other benefits. Surely all of the work that a would-be convert needs to do in the process of preparing for conversion is something that we would like for every Jewish adult. So why not mandate that everyone go through this process? One objection is that the current conversion process is not pleasant. Why would we subject “real” Jews to this treatment. Well that is its own big problem that needs to be fixed. Converting to Judaism should be a wonderful experience. I have no doubt that this process needs a healthy dose of transparency. Another objection is that it would be too rigorous. I do not claim that non-Orthodox Jews should share all of the values and behaviors of Orthodox Jews, but please stand for something. Comfort is not a Jewish value. Being Jewish is marvelous and worth the effort.
Another objection is the right time for this innovative rite. When would someone undergo this “conversion”? And here is the genius of Rabbi Cosgrove’s argument of joining the issues of conversion and intermarriage. While conversion for the sake of getting married is prohibited by halakha, marriage is the perfect occasion for a Rabbi to guide a couple through this new “conversion” ritual. Surely this would make Rabbis better gate keepers if we had a way to offer all people interested entrance.
Coupling these issues of conversion and marriage for Conservative Judaism presents all of us with a wonderful opportunity. Just look at how having a Bat Mitvah, an innovation of Liberal Judaism, has been migrating in different versions into mainstream Orthodox circles. This new marriage/conversion ritual might not be halakhic, but it sure seems like an interesting public policy humra – religious stringency. Our different religious values speak to our most basic and common human needs. Over time this ritual will make the Jewish people much stronger. Echoing the sentiments of Rabbi Cosgove, this public policy humra seems like an interesting “muscular embrace” of future generations of Jews.
Manufactured by 300 years of Spartan warrior society... to create the finest soldiers the world has ever known.The Agoge, as it's called, forces the boy to fight. Starves them, forces them to steal... and if necessary, to kill. By rod and lash the boy was punished... taught to show no pain, no mercy.
Yes, this is the JEWISH FUTURES Conference. Welcome. What does 300, the story of King Leonidas, and the Agoge have to teach us about the role of Bar and Bat Mitzvah in America today? The Spartans were barbaric and so different from us, but there is much to learn:
What were Spartan’s highest values?
How were these values manifest in the Agoge?
How did the Agoge ensure that the next generation of Spartan warriors knew, valued, and behaved as loyal Spartans?
How did the Agoge inculcate in the, if not beat into them,a sense of belonging to their community?
What was the nature of the preparation for and practice of this ritual that spoke to these, the Spartan’s highest values?
Looking to our own tradition, the earliest reference of , if not allusion to, youth coming of age in the Torah might be when Shimon and Levi take up the swords and kill the people of Shechem in the name of defending their sister’s honor אִישׁ חַרְבּוֹ -Each man and his sword ( Genesis 34:25) On this Rashi quotes the Midrash, “ Rabbi Elazar says: they were 13 years old” ( MidrashBereishit Rabbah 80:10).
How is this helpful? Now we see that both the Spartans and the Ancient Israelites were barbaric and different from us. But are we so different? What do we hear at these BnaiMitzah? “The Bat Mitzvah girl had such presence when giving her Dvar Torah. She really stood her ground.” Or “That Bar Mitzvah boy– ah his haftarah- he killed it. His form… perfect.” Or “She had such poise and grace, She was amazing and majestic”. Or the classic, “Today, you are a man”
Before we can evaluate, re-imagine, or rebuild a Bar or Bat Mitzvah we need to determine what our highest values are? We are not Spartans and we do not aspire to be ancient Israelites. Please take a moment. Let’s think about our highest values. Please write your top one or two values on sticky pads at your table. What your highest values?[waited 15 seconds here ]
Now, what do we think are our children’s highest values? חֲנֹךְ לַנַּעַר עַל פִּי דַרְכּוֹ -Initiate a child according to his/her path so when s/he grows old, s/he will not turn away from it. ( Proverbs 22:6) What grabs them? Have we asked them? What gives them a “heightened sense of things”? Are they drawn in by:
fixing the world, bettering their community, or developing themselves
connecting with Israel, connecting to the Jewish People, or connecting to God
moving their bodies in dance, sport, or out in nature
raising their voices in sound or raising money for charity
speaking out for justice or speaking Hebrew
experiencing the sacred in time, space, or art
protecting the earth or preserving our collective memory
or building community with Food, Folks, or Fun
Please take these sticky note with you. The preparation for and performance of any ritual practice we come up with today needs to connect with both our and our children’s highest values. If we do not keep Judaism sticky, we are off the path. And I frankly I have no idea what we are doing here today.
So back to our question. What can the Spartans’ Agoge offer us? Yes, they were barbaric, but to be honest I would take barbaric over irrelevant any day. In order to clearly manifest our values I would want to offer a myriad of ways, halachic and otherwise, that might frame a rigorous education and training regimen leading toward, but not culminating in an authentic ritual practice. But in the allotted time I have now, I wanted to share just one from this past week. For a moment let us talk about Purim.
In a number of ways life in Persia seems to have been similar to our own. We too have chosen to live outside of a Jewish State in Israel.
We experience ourselves having political power in our country in the Post-Lieberman Era.
Our society is rethinking the role of women in public life in the Hillary Era.
As a community we are dealing with shifting attitudes toward intermarriage.
Many of us share a sense that God is hidden, if there is a God at all.
And most important for today, in our trying to respond to a joyous occasion in our lives we also seek to create something that is both authentic and relevant.
And the core of the day? In the Megilah we read that Mordechai and Esther created a ritual on the 14th and 15th of Adar every year, to commemorate the days when their fortune was reversed. To make them days of feasting and joy, and sending portions one to another, and gifts to the poor.( Esther 9:20-22) קִיְּמוּ וְקִבְּלֻ הַיְּהוּדִים עֲלֵיהֶם וְעַל זַרְעָם -And just like that they created out of whole cloth an authentic ritual that spoke to their needs and lasted for generations.
What are some of the critical ingredients of Purim? How might this help us think about Bar or Bat Mitvah for generations to come?
1) By reading the Megilah we need to articulate the national narrative
2)Companionship is founded on breaking bread. We build our local communities around festive meals
3) By sending Mishloach Manot one to another we connect to and contribute to the larger Jewish communal network
By sending these gifts we expand our virtual table and re-weave our community.
4)And we contribute to the larger community by giving Tzedaka to all those who need- Matanot L’Evyonim
5)Purim is not complete Ad d’lo Yada until we do not know the difference between cursed Haman and blessed Mordechai. To do this we need to know what is good and bad. We cannot forget the much-needed ingredient of a moral discernment process
Like Mordechai and Esther we have to be bold and creative. In partnership with our youth we need to make something that is rigorous and relevant. We need to empower our youth to be authentic authors of our collective narrative. Who will do this? Mi hu zeh? If not us, who? ( Esther 7 :5)
AGOGE ἀγωγή
SYNAGOGUE συναγωγή
Can we take the best and leave the rest of the Agoge tradition? Can we take the best and leave the rest of the Syn-Agoge tradition? We will only achieve our goals if we can clearly articulate our needs. What are our highest values? Are they sticky? How will we prepare the next generation to perform a ritual practice that manifests these, our highest values? To borrow the sentiment from Mordechai’s message to Esther for the task at hand:
It is not a time to be silent, even without us the role of Bar and Bat Mitzvah in America today will be someone will re-imagined. But who knows? It might have been just for this very task that we came together today.
A few months back I was trying to explain to my children why I hate Halloween. While I did not want to get into the history of the whole idolatry thing, I was able to explain that it was just not our custom. They thought I said costume, and objected. “But Abba, you love costumes on Purim”. That is true. I do love Purim. Then I got to thinking, why do I love Purim and hate Halloween?
While we dress up in costumes and we give our treats on both days, Purim is just a better holiday. While on Halloween the person wanting the treat needs to go around the neighborhood collecting said treats, on Purim the obligation of traveling around is on the giver and not receiver of the treats. It is not that you spend any more or less money on treats on either day, it is just that Purim has better “costumer service”. -Chag Purim Sameakh
Our oldest child has reached the age where he is eligible to go to overnight camp for the first time, and we have been giving a lot of thought as to when would be the right time for a child to leave home. We know firsthand that camp is an amazing utopia where 24/7 joyous Judaism is the expectation, but it is normal to think about when the right age to expose our children to a new loving community outside their home and family is.
Conversely, I’ve found we are not as thorough when it comes to judging when to expose our children to some other important life lessons and experiences. Like many other children, my kids learned about the story of Esther in preparation for Purim. A few years ago, when my eldest was in kindergarten, he shared with me what he had learned about this ancient holiday. Haman’s punishment for attempting genocide was to walk behind Mordechai, who was riding on the royal horse, and pick up the poop. He added with a smile that this was his favorite part of the story.
This year on Purim, like every other year, I will try to fulfill the commandment to mistake the blessing of Mordechai with the curse of Haman – the only day of the year on which we are commanded to not differentiate between good and evil. But truthfully, while Purim is clearly a story of survival and joy, it is told against the backdrop of hate and anti-Semitism. Unfortunately in our society, a presence of “evil” or hate is expected; Haman is a stock character in our history. As the adage goes, “What is the definition of an anti-Semite? It is someone who hates Jews more than they are supposed to.” It is astounding to realize that the expectation of anti-Semitism has made us fulfill the commandment of mixing up Mordechai and Haman all year-long.
I am thankful that my young son was not yet taught of Haman and his sons being put to death. But, what is the right age to tell your child about the history and existence of anti-Semitism? It is a curse to think that anti-Semitism is a normal part of our world. It is a blessing to live in an environment like Jewish camp that loves you and cherishes and celebrates your identity. It’s common to sit down to discuss the appropriate age to send one’s child to summer camp for the first time. But if we are willing to put such thought into whether they are ready to enter a new community- a community that will provide them with love, independence, pride, skills, and fun- shouldn’t we give at least as much thought to when and how to expose our children to the reality of and presence of anti-Semitism in our history?
We live in a time of freedom, but we can never forget that this freedom comes at a price. We need to make sure the confusion of Purim is the exception and not the rule. It scares me to think that my children might grow up without strong memories of knowing a survivor of the Shoah, (Holocaust). How will they understand the horrors of anti-Semitism without trivializing it? We need to confront the idea of evil with our children beyond making bad people ”pick up the poop.”
In BeShalach, last week’s Torah portion, we learned of the splitting of the sea. There we read, “And Moses stretched out his hand over the sea; and God caused the sea to go back by a strong east wind all the night, and made the sea dry land, and the waters were divided.” (Exodus 14: 21) At the start of Yitro, this week’s Torah portion we learn that Yitro, Moses’ father-in-law comes to meet Moses and the Israelites. There we read, “ Now Yitro, the priest of Midian, Moses’ father-in-law, heard of all that God had done for Moses, and for Israel His people, how that the Lord had brought Israel out of Egypt.” ( Exodus 18:1) Why did Yitro come? He heard of the great miracles of the Exodus, especially the splitting of the sea. But, how did he hear? When discussing the miracle of the splitting of the sea, the Sages rationalized that this exception to the rule of science, must have happened every where on the world if it happened at all. Rashi (on Exodus 14:21) brings down the idea (from the Mehilta and Shemot Rabba 21:6) that “all the waters of the world also split at that time” .
So the water in Yitro’s cup divided, but why did he run to get Zipporah and the grand kids in the car to see Moses? The miracle of the splitting of the sea was not just that the Isrealites escaped their slave masters, but that it created a narrative with which everyone could relate. The story was not in a far off sea, but right there on our table. All too often we are not sympathetic to a cause until we connect with it on a person level. It is easy to turn a blind eye to someone who is suffering, until you look that person in the eyes. In my mind this points a deep lesson in the power on empathy.
I was thinking about this lesson when I saw a recently posted TED talk. In this video photographer iO Tillett Wright pushes us to see past the having check boxes like “female,” “male,” “gay” or straight”. She is the creator of Self Evident Truths—an ongoing project to document the wide variety of experiences in LGBTQ America. So far, she has photographed about 2,000 people for the project. Her goal: 10,000 portraits and a nationwide rethinking of discriminatory laws. Please watch:
In the words of Jewish Philosopher Emmanuel Levinas, ”the Other faces me and puts me in question and obliges me . . . the face presents itself, and demands justice. (Totality and Infinity 207, 294) In the spirit of Yitro, it is hard looking at the pictures of iO Tillett Wright and not heeding the call and working for equality and justice for all people regardless of gender identity or sexual orientation. When we see the humanity in another person, we cannot help but have empathy for that person. We feel that we are connected. And as Yitro teaches us, that is just what family does. Regardless if it is for a celebration or morning, we show up.
Two week’s ago in the Torah portion we saw Yaakov give Yosef a coat of many colors. While this special gift was supposed to be an expression of love between a father and a son, for his brothers it was a sign of Yaakov’s unfairly favoring Yosef. This led them to sell Yosef into slavery. In our Torah portion this week Yosef is finally reunited with Yaakov. It is interesting to note that he is not interested in any more presents, only his father’s presence. Last week we celebrated Chanukah and we very deliberate to get each of our children presents that they would enjoy that spoke of our love for them. Kindles so they could read and play. After this senseless shooting, the gift was out of my mind and all I could think about was wanting to be present for my children.
Like many other parents, Adina and I spent the weekend deliberating what we should tell our children about the horrific shootings this past Friday. The school in Sandy Hook Elementary is about an hour away from our children’s school in Connecticut. We both knew that there was nothing really to talk about with Emunah (3) and Yishama (6), but what could be hope to say to Yadid (8) about the death of so many precious innocents? This past Monday night when I got home I pulled Yadid into the kitchen to talk with him in private. I asked him what they talked about at school that day. He reported to me what the school had communicated to us the were going to messaged to him verbatim. I was happy. I asked him what he was thinking about, what he was feeling, and if he had any questions. Yadid said that was sad for what happened, but he wanted to talk “when the kids were not around.”While we did get to talk about it later, I am still moved at his sensitivity. Evidently Adina and I are not the only ones who was thinking about what the right way is to talk about such a difficult topic.
There were many ways of communicating our love to our children and many ways of helping them deal with a crisis. In the end no presents will replace a long hug and being completely present in the moment.
