Showing posts with label liturgy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label liturgy. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

This Post Doesn't Make Sense Unless You Know Hebrew

While listening to the story of the Exodus this past Shabbat, I started thinking about the Fantasy Haggadah. Among other things, I was thinking about what to call it. There's a sort of formula for Hebrew titles of Jewish holy books. They tend to be short phrases -- often from the Bible or another traditional Jewish text -- usually consisting of two nouns in construct or a noun modified by an adjective. The title can have something to do with the content of the book, or it can be based on the author's name. For example, since my Hebrew name is Chaya, DH occasionally refers to my imaginary book of Jewish philosophy as ספר חית השדה.*

Anyway, as we moved through the Torah portion, I scanned for good names for a Haggadah. The first that came to mind was הגדת ליל שמורים, but that seemed kind of bland, and I figured it was probably taken (it is). Then I came up with a number that almost certainly aren't taken:
הגדת לב מצרים
הגדת צעקה גדולה
הגדת שבעת ימים (because that's how long it'll take to get through the seder)
הגדת שה תמים (maybe better for a Christian haggadah?)
הגדת המול כל זכר
הגדת מה זאת (my current favorite)

Opinions?

*It was really funny the first time he said it. I guess you had to be there.

Thursday, March 29, 2007

Passover Reading

One of the reasons I've been posting so frequently is that, for the first time since we got married, DH and I are going away for the whole week of Passover, meaning that we don't have to clean our apartment. It's been so long since I've actually had time to think about the Seder before sitting down to it that it's making me a little bit giddy.

Here's some stuff that I'm printing out to read over Shabbat:

David Kraemer on leavened and unleavened bread
Hitzei Yehonatan on Passover
Adderabbi on the Haggadah (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7)

Here are some radical Haggadot:
The Velveteen Rabbi's Haggadah
The Love & Justice in Times of War Haggadah

And here are some traditional Haggadot (mostly Hebrew).

Shabbat Shalom and Chag Kasher veSameach!

Everything You Never Wanted to Know About the RA Haggadah

In response to my previous post, a commenter asked a question about the slightly different selection of midrashim in the Rabbinical Assembly Haggadah:
Can you please elaborate on why the originals were replaced and how the replacements are better?

I started to post a response, but then I realized that it was getting much, much too long for a comment, so I am going to post it here.

[Warning: serious liturgical minutia ahead.]

First off, I should clarify that I had nothing to do with the composition of the RA Haggdah, nor do I know anyone involved with the project, so I can only guess at the reasons for the changes. Second, I wouldn't go so far as to say that the RA's version is "better" than the traditional version; it's a matter of the purpose of this particular Haggadah. I presume that where choices were made, the goal was to produce a text that is accessible, thought-provoking, and relevant to contemporary Conservative Jews.

Now for the details. As far as I can tell, they begin with the midrashic exegesis of Deuteronomy 26:5-8. The RA Haggadah begins by quoting the entire passage, which I think makes the text a bit easier to follow. It skips the initial interpretation of ארמי אבד אבי, which states that Laban the Aramean was worse than Pharaoh, because he attempted to destroy all of Israel (via Jacob) rather than Pharaoh alone. I would imagine that this was omitted because it requires a strong familiarity with Genesis to appreciate, and because it's difficult to figure out what relevant message to take from it. However, my theory is undermined by the fact that this interpretation does appear in the commentary; it is simply absent from the Hebrew text and translation. Maybe the editors set a word limit for this part of the Haggadah?

The second change is a simple expansion. The traditional Haggadah comments on וירד מצרימה, "he [Jacob] went down to Egypt," with אנוס על פי הדיבור, "he was compelled by the [divine] word." The RA Haggadah adds a quotation from Genesis 15:13 to explain that Jacob's descent to Egypt was a fulfillment of God's statement to Abraham.

To my great sadness, the RA Haggdah skips the comment on ורב, which comes from Ezekiel 16:7,6. The passage is not at all family friendly, and its relevance to the verse in Deuteronomy is rather obscure, so I think I understand why it was omitted, but I miss it. (I'm planning to compensate this year by giving a shiur on it on Shabbat Chol Ha-Mo`ed.)

The next change is somewhat interesting. On וירעו אתנו המצרים, "the Egyptians dealt harsly with us," the traditional Haggadah comments, "as it is said, 'Come, let us deal cunningly with them, lest they multiply, and if it should come to pass that a war should occur, they too will join our enemies, and fight against us, and go up out of the land'" (Exodus 1:10). On the surface, it isn't clear how the verse from Exodus serves as an interpretation of the verse from Deuteronomy. The RA Haggadah explains: "They made us appear to be bad (וירעו אתנו), for it is written that Pharaoh said to his people, 'Behold, the Israelites are too many and too mighty for us. Come, let us deal cunningly with them...'" It also adds another intepretation (דבר אחר): "They were ungrateful, for they paid back in evil the kindness that Joseph had done for them, as it is written, 'A new king arose over Mitzrayim* who did not know Joseph' (Exodus 1:8). He acted as if he did not know Joseph." In this case, I think that the RA version is not only easier to understand, but also provides more to chew on. This latter midrash is the first of a series of RA additions that present the Egyptians and Israelites as archetypes of evil and good, respectively. This presentation is somewhat problematic from a contemporary perspective, but it comes straight from the midrashic tradition, and I guess the editors saw it as an opportunity to include some moral lessons.

On ויתנו עלינו עבודה קשה, "and they imposed hard labor on us," the traditional Haggadah simply quotes Exodus 1:13: "And Egypt made the children of Israel serve with rigor." The RA Haggadah offers a midrashic interpretation: "They would impose a difficult task upon the weak and an easy task on the strong, a light burden upon the young and a heavy burden upon the old. This was work without end and futile, for the Egyptians wanted not only to enslave them but also to break their spirit."

On ונצעק אל ה אלהי אבתינו, "and we cried out to the Lord, God of our ancestors," the RA Haggadah adds a comment on "God of our ancestors:" "Because of the merit of the ancestors, we were redeemed from Mitzrayim. As it is written, 'God heard their moaning, and recalled his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac and with Jacob."

On וירא,"and [God] saw," the RA Haggadah adds, "what did He see? He saw that the Israelites had compassion for each other. When one of them finished his quota of bricks, he would help others."

On את ענינו, "our affliction," the traditional Haggadah explains, "this refers to the separation of husbands and wives" [my paraphrase]. The RA Haggadah adds a midrash about how the Israelite women ensured that procreation continued by bringing their husbands warm food and drink while they were in the fields and by offering them comfort and encouragement. It seems clear to me that this is mainly an attempt to include women in the Haggadah, but it's kind of nice and it works.

On ואת עמלינו, "and our burden," the traditional Haggadah comments, "this refers to the sons, as it is said, 'every son that is born you shall cast into the river, and every daughter you shall save.' The RA Haggadah adds the midrash that the Israelites continued to circumcise their sons even though they knew that they would die shortly after birth.

On ואת לחצינו, "and our oppression," the traditional Haggadah reads, "this refers to the force used, as it is said, 'and I have also seen the oppression with which Egypt oppresses them'" (Exodus 3:9). The RA Haggadah reads, "this refers to the straw. For Pharaoh decreed, 'you shall no longer provide the people with straw for making bricks; let them go and gather straw for themselves (Exodus 5:7). Whenever the Egyptians counted the bricks and found the quota unfilled, the Israelite overseers refused to deliver their fellow Israelites to teh Egyptians. Instead, they submitted themselves, and willingly suffered punishment in order to lighten the ordeal of the Israelites."

On ביד חזקה, "with a mighty hand," the traditional Haggadah comments, "this refers to the cattle plague(דבר), as it is said, 'Behold the hand of Adonai will be on the field..." On ובזרוע נטויה, "and with an outstretched arm," it reads, "this refers to the sword, as it is said, 'and a drawn sword was in his hand, stretched out over Jerusalem'" (1 Chronicles 21:16). The RA replaces these comments with something more accessible: "When the Egyptians made the life of our ancestors bitter, the Holy One said, 'I will redeem them,' as it is written, 'I will free you from the burdens of the Egyptians, and I will deliver you from their bondage. I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and through extraordinary judgments. I will take you to be My people, and I will be your God. And you shall know that I, Adonai, am your God'" (Exodus 6:6-7).

On ובאתות, "and with signs," the RA Haggadah includes the interpretation in the traditional Haggadah, which refers to Moses' staff, and adds another: "This refers to God's commandments. For they are an eternal sign that God saves and redeems, and a remembrance for all generations of the covenant between the Holy One and His people. Thus it is written, 'And this shall serve you as a sign on your hand, and as a symbol on your forehead -- in order that the teachings of Adonai may be in your mouth -- that with a mighty hand Adonai freed you from Mitzrayim'" (Exodus 13:9).

The next change is quite small, and it may be based on a variant text. On the word ובמפתים, "and with wonders," the traditional Haggadah reads, "this refers to the blood, as it said, 'and I will show wonders in the heavens and on the earth, blood and fire and columns of smoke'" (Joel 3:3). In place of "this refers to the blood," the RA Haggadah reads, "this refers to the plagues."

After this, the traditional Haggadah includes a sort of rabbinic math competition, in which the number of plagues is inflated from ten to 300. This entire section is omitted in the RA Haggadah, presumably because it seems like too much reveling in others' misery (and because, my God, they made maggid long enough already!).

Now that I've gone through all of this in detail, I realize that the RA's Haggadah Committee is more like me than I thought: they added a lot more text than they removed. All the more reason to create my flexible fantasy version.

*The RA Haggadah uses the transliteration "Mitzrayim" rather than "Egypt" in order to emphasize the symbolic significance of the Israelite place of enslavement rather than the actual location. Kind of silly? Maybe, but I can see why they made that decision.

My Fantasy Haggadah

My family always used a traditional Haggadah. We have a set of cheap Haggadot without commentary (the red and yellow ones) to use at the seder so that everyone can be on the same page. We also have a collection of Haggadot with various commentaries, which are used to spark discussion. The traditional Haggadah is a complex book -- too complex, really, to be properly utilized by anyone without an extensive Jewish education -- but over the years, I've come to really like it. For me, that appreciation derived in a large measure from learning Mishnah Tractate Pesachim, which outlines the structure of the Seder and allowed me to discern the order behind the chaos. It also came from the questions and ideas raised by many years of discussing the Haggadah and reading various commentaries. I've often wished that I could shed more light on the Haggadah for other people at the Seder, for many of whom I think it is still a random collection of obscure texts, strung together in no particular order. But that would be too complicated for Seder night. People want to get to the meal eventually, and I'm not even sure that everyone would be interested.

After I got married, I began to attend Seders at my in-laws', where I was introduced to the Rabbinical Assembly Haggadah, which is almost traditional. It follows the sequence outlined in m. Pesachim (and explains it in the commentary more clearly than any other Haggadah that I've seen). There are some subtle differences, however. Where the mishnah prescribes that one expound on Deuteronomy 26:5-8, the composers of the traditional Haggadah settled on a particular set of midrashim from Sifre Deuteronomy. The Rabbinical Assembly includes a slightly different set of midrashim, some from Sifre and some from other sources, such as Tanchuma. I generally like the midrashim in the RA Haggadah, and for the most part, I understand why they were chosen over the few that the committee decided to omit. Still, I like the traditional Haggadah, and I miss the parts that aren't there.

A few years ago, I was discussing this with a friend, and I said that if DH and I were ever to make our own Seder, I wouldn't know which haggadah to use. He immediately responded, "you should make your own!" Since then, I've had a fantasy of creating my own Haggadah (with DH, of course, and whoever else wanted to participate). Early on, I realized that "my" Haggadah would be about twice as long as any other, and everyone using it would hate me. Then it occured to me that, thanks to miracle of technology, I could reformulate it slightly each year, including a different selection of readings and commentaries each time, keeping it fresh. I could expand on anything I wanted to, and whatever was omitted, I could always bring back another time. Wouldn't that be fun?

Maybe some day. . .

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Liturgy for Yom Ha-Atzmaut

Since the establishment of the state of Israel, religious Jews of Zionist persuasion have struggled to create a liturgy for Yom Ha-Atzmaut (Israeli Independence Day). The most widely observed religious custom for Yom Ha-Atzmaut is the recitation of Hallel, based on the Talmudic injunction that Hallel be recited when the Jewish people is delivered from distress (Pesahim 116a). To add anything more, however, entails finding a traditional paradigm suitable for a modern holiday, and there is little agreement as to the appropriate paradigm.

One early model, suggested by Yom Tov Lewinski, was for Yom Ha-Atzmaut to be observed in a manner similar to that of the festivals mandated by the Torah (Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot), with the lighting of candles, cessation from labor, recitation of kiddush, and the insertion of ya'aleh veyavo into the amidah prayer and the blessing after meals.* It was not to be, however; Orthodox Jews were reluctant to give a modern holiday the status of the ones in the Torah, and the national celebrations that eventually developed in Israel were incompatable with the traditional festival restrictions. Another model is based specifically on Passover, and includes readings from a haggadah retelling the story of the modern-day redemption. A number of haggadot have been composed for Yom Ha-Atzmaut, but none has gained widespread acceptance, perhaps in part because the atmosphere on Yom Ha-Atzmaut in Israel is so incompatible with a family seder.

Some of the liturgies currently used for Yom Ha-Atzmaut are not based on any particular paradigm, but these can seem a bit random and therefore lacking in force. The Israeli rabbinate, for example, authorized the recitation of certain psalms and the reading of a selection from the Prophets, but not from the Torah. A service that I heard in college consisted of an odd hodgepodge of texts taken from sources as diverse as kabbalat shabbat (the Friday evening service) and Naomi Shemer (a modern Israeli songwriter). The Reform movement has its own service for Yom Ha-Atzmaut, comprised mainly of original compositions -- fine for people who like that sort of thing, but again, I think it lacks force.

It seems to me** that the most reasonable liturgical paradigm for Yom Ha-Atzmaut is that of Chanukkah and Purim. Since these holidays comemorate events that occurred after the composition of the Torah,*** they don't have the status of the major festivals (which means fewer religious restrictions), but they do have their own liturgies including readings from the Torah and Prophets, and they are accomanied by a generally festive mood. The main liturgical innovation for Chanukkah and Purim was the al ha-nissim prayer, which thanks God for delivering our ancestors from their enemies. Versions of al ha-nissim for Yom Ha-Atzmaut have been composed for the religious kibbutz movement, the Conservative movement, the Masorti movement, and the Israeli Reform movement. (Yehonatan Chipman has a number of the texts with insightful comments. Avraham Hein adds the version from the Conservative Siddur Sim Shalom.) Communities that recite al ha-nissim generally also have a Torah reading (Deuteronomy 7:12-8:18 or 30:1-10) and a Haftarah (Isaiah 10:32-12:6).

Certain problems inevitably arise when a preexisting paradigm is applied to a new situation. The various versions of al ha-nissim, for example, all use the language of the al ha-nissim for Chanukkah, which describes a battle in which the "wicked" are delivered into the hands of the "righteous." (The Reform version substitutes "members of your covenant" for "righteous," which is a bit better. The Sim Shalom version uses "guilty" and "innocent" in its "translation," but the Hebrew is the same as in the others.) Now, there is no doubt in my mind that the Israeli War of Independence was a just war, but that doesn't necessarily mean that all the aggressors were "wicked," and it certainly doesn't mean that all the victors were "righteous." The Torah readings open with the same implication of Jewish righteousness, and one of them (Deut. 7:12-8:18) becomes more problematic as it proceeds: "You shall destroy the peoples that the Adonai your God delivers to you, showing them no mercy . . . You shall cast the images of their gods into the fire" (Deut. 7:16, 25). The choice of Haftarah, meanwhile, seems to have been motivated by the view that the establishment of the state was the beginning of the messianic era, which I find troubling on a number of levels. (Admittedly, the Haftarah doesn't have to be read in that sense in this context, but it would not have been my first choice.)

In spite of all this, I am not inclined to diverge from the existing liturgies. Chanukkah and Purim were controversial in their times precisely because they were new, but they eventually gained the acceptance of the Jewish community as a whole. I don't know what it would take to achieve the same degree of acceptance for Yom Ha-Atzmaut as a religious holiday, but some semblance of a standard liturgy couldn't hurt.

*Rabbi Irving Greenberg, Living the Holidays (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1988), p. 388. Greenberg references Lewinski's Sefer Hamoadim, vol. 8, Y'mai Moed V'Zikaron (Tel Aviv: Dvir, 1956), p. 486.
**
Yehonatan Chipman agrees.
***Whether Purim actually comemorates an "event that occurred" is not really relevant here; clearly, those who composed the Purim liturgy believed that it did.

Monday, March 13, 2006

International Agunah Day

Today is the 13th of the month of Adar, the Fast of Esther. As I mentioned last year, the Fast of Esther has been designated International Agunah Day by Yad L'Isha. An agunah is a woman who is unable to obtain a get (Jewish divorce). In modern times, such situations are typically the result of a husband's refusal to grant his wife a get, either out of spite or in order to extort money or gain custody of children. Although certain aspects of the halakhot pertaining to marriage and divorce developed in order to protect women, they are set within a patriarchal framework in which the decision to marry or divorce ultimately resides with men. Women who cannot obtain a ghet are left in an untenable situation, unable to remarry lest their children become mamzerim.

Such situations do not arise in the Reform movement, which often relies on civil divorce, or in the Reconstructionist movement, which grants unilateral divorces in cases of recalcitrance. Rachel Adler, a Reform activist and theologian, has advocated replacing the traditional marriage ceremony, kiddushin, with an egalitarian shutafut ("partnership") ceremony, in part to avoid the creation of mamzerim and thus promote harmony with other movements.

Orthodox and Conservative rabbis in the diaspora have devised various methods for preventing women from becoming agunot, including the use of conditional marriage formulas, special clauses within the ketubah (marriage contract), and prenuptial agreements that make civil divorce contingent on the granting of a get. You can read about Conservative approaches to the problem here; the prenuptial agreement sanctioned by the Orthodox Rabbinical Council of America can be found here. Responsible rabbis do not officiate at weddings unless the agunah issue has been addressed. Those of us who marry in a halakhic context also have a duty to avail ourselves of one of these methods of agunah prevention, even if we expect to be married forever (as most of us do). It is only once these precautions become de rigueur that the problem will have been resolved.

When precautions have not been taken and a woman finds herself unable to obtain a get, rabbinical courts will often attempt to annul the marriage by means of various legal loopholes. Some courts (notably the Conservative and Masorti courts and the Morgenstern/Rackman bet din) grant annulments more readily than others. In Israel, where rabbinical courts are an arm of the state, legal sanctions are often imposed on recalcitrant husbands. However, such sanctions are not always effective, and the courts are not always willing to impose them. Rabbi David Malka, an Israeli rabbinical judge, recently admitted to the Jerusalem Post that he often encourages women to submit to the financial demands of recalcitrant husbands:
"Listen, this is money that she never earned," explained Malka. "Only in theory does it belong to her.

"For instance, according to the law the wife is entitled to half of a man's pension rights even though she never worked a day in her life. I do not think she should remain an aguna because she is stubborn about receiving her half."

The ugliness of such a statement coming from a leader of a community that encourages women to be stay-at-home mothers boggles the mind.

The organization Yad L'Isha (mentioned above) has made important strides toward helping Israeli agunot, including the creation of the institution of to`anot bet din, women who advocate for other women in divorce cases. Although they have no halakhic standing in rabbinical courts because of their gender, the to`anot, who are experts in the laws of marriage and divorce, have managed to work with rabbinical judges to free many potential agunot.

Right now, however, Israeli women are in a precarious situation. Annoyed by the public pressure imposed on them by institutions such as Yad L'Isha, the Israeli Council of Rabbinical Judges has decided to sever all ties with organizations that advocate for agunot. We can only hope that there is enough negative publicity to change their minds.

Please help spread the word about this problem, and take a moment today to recite the prayer for agunot.

You can read more about the connection between agunot and the Fast of Esther here.

(Hat tip to Miriam Shaviv and OOSJ, may his blog rest in peace, for linking to the JPost article.)

Sunday, March 12, 2006

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Toward Tisha B'Av

The rabbinic system, according to the esteemed professor Shaye Cohen, is one that perpetually declares itself inadequate. Built into our prayers, laws, and customs, is a pervasive theme of mourning for Jerusalem, and of prayer for a future time, when Jerusalem will be reinhabited, the Temple rebuilt, and the Jewish people forever free of suffering and oppression.

Today, we live in a time when the model of the Jewish future on which the rabbinic paradigm is based has been shattered. History has presented us with a paradox: a national homeland with Jerusalem as its capital, but no return to Temple worship and no end of suffering in sight. What are the implications of this situation for modern Judaism? Must we abandon the rabbinic myth, or can it be effectively reinterpreted? I raised similar questions around this time last year. Below is a summary of some of the approaches that I and others suggested then, and the reasons why I find them all ultimately unsatisfactory.

1. The establishment of the State of Israel was a mistake, and has nothing to do with ancient Jewish dream, which will be fulfilled in the future by supernatural, rather than human, means. This is the predominant anti-Zionist Orthodox approach. It is not very popular nowadays, and probably has no adherents among readers of this blog. Therefore, instead of taking the time and energy to dispute it rationally, I will simply remind you all of an old joke about a man who put his faith in God.

2. The rebuilding of the physical Jerusalem is incomplete. According to this perspective, when we mourn Jerusalem, we are actually mourning the Temple, which, when rebuilt, will usher in the true messianic age, and with it, the fulfillment of our people's dreams. This is the predominant approach among Orthodox Zionists, for obvious reasons. It maintains the traditional myth virtually intact, only drawing its fulfillment out for a somewhat longer period than our ancestors might have imagined.

My primary objection to this approach is historical. The existence of the modern state of Israel provides us with an opportunity for re-examining the past in light of the present, and realizing that, while there are many advantages to national autonomy, autonomous periods in Israel's history have never been utopian. This was equally the case whether or not a temple stood in Jerusalem.

A second objection is the implication that the type of worship that took place in the Temple would be appropriate outside an ancient context. Animal sacrifice was very common at the time that the Israelites practiced it, but most modern Jews would, I think, agree that its replacement with prayer was a change for the better. Further, we may reasonably question whether centralized theocracy should be regarded as an ideal form of government (this book notwithstanding). Again, in the ancient world it may have seemed the only option. But times have changed.

3. The emphasis that we place on the physical city of Jerusalem in an error. Instead, we should focus on the ideas with which Jerusalem has traditionally been associated. My understanding is that the Jewish version of this idea originated in pre-Zionist times,* but it continues to have adherents. Rachel Barenblat's "Diaspora Grrl" is a particularly thoughtful contemporary articulation.

While Rachel does not advocate ignoring or abandoning the physical city of Jerusalem, her philosophy would logically seem to lead to that approach, which makes me uneasy. I was educated in a strongly Zionist tradition, and in spite of everything that has been going on in Israel lately, I still believe that the existence of a Jewish state is integral to the well-being of Jewry as a whole. For this reason, it seems to me that it would be worthwhile for the idea of a Jewish homeland to remain a part of Jewish mythology.

4. The Book of Lamentations and the kinot that we recite on Tisha B'Av focus primarily on human suffering. For Jews, the destruction of Jerusalem is paradigmatic of human cruelty and suffering, and that is what “mourning for Jerusalem” is really about. I made this suggestion last year, and I still think that there is something to it. Still, I've come to find it dissatisfying for the same reason that I find the previous approach dissatisfying: it undermines the significance of Jerusalem itself.

Perhaps what we really ought to be mourning is the lost dream of a simple, complete, glorious redemption, both physical and spiritual. We should mourn the fact that the physical Jerusalem has turned out to be so unlike the Jerusalem of Jewish dreams, and that the world after the creation of the Jewish state is so unlike the messianic age that we long envisioned. And we can ask ourselves what we can do in this imperfect world of ours to bring the Jerusalem of our people's dreams closer to reality, both in the physical city of Jerusalem and elsewhere.

*For some reason, I associate it with Martin Buber, but then it wouldn't be pre-Zionist. Maybe it was Mendelsson's idea? Maybe I'm really mixed up and should do some more reading...

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Vayyiqra/ Tsav

For those who are wondering, I did begin composing a post on Vayyiqra, and I had almost finished when I had to stop and get ready for Shabbat. Fortunately, it was a very general post on the subject of sacrifice and contemporary Judaism, so it is just as applicable to this week's parsha, Tsav, as it would have been to last week's. (I'd like to get into more specific issues eventually, but I'd rather deal with general themes first.) Since Purim is this Friday and I have quite a lot to do, I feel entitled to cheat. So here it is, two parshiyot in one:

The hope for a rebuilt Temple and a revival of the sacrificial order has been a relatively constant feature of Jewish eschatology over the centuries. There have, however, been a few variations. In his Guide for the Perplexed, for example, Maimonedes (1135-1204) posits that animal sacrifice was a primitive form of worship designed for primitive people, and that Jews were ultimately meant to move toward higher forms of worship, such as prayer and, ultimately, completely internal worship of the heart.* Rabbi Avraham Yitzhak Kook (1865-1935) envisioned a restoration of the sacrifical order, but one that would be restricted to vegetarian sacrifices along the lines of the biblical meal offering (mincha**). Unsurprisingly, the Reform and Conservative movements embrace the idea that Jewish worship has "evolved" beyond animal sacrifice.

The traditional musaf prayer (an "additional" prayer for Shabbat and holidays) expresses a desire for the restoration of the sacrifical order. The following paragraph comes from the musaf amidah for Shabbat:

You established the Sabbath, found favor in its offerings, commanded regarding the interpretation of its ordinances with the order of its libations. Those who delight in it will be honored forever, those who savor it merit life, and those who love its teachings have chosen greatness. From Sinai, they [our ancestors] were commanded regarding it, and You, Lord, our God, commanded us to offer the Sabbath additional [musaf] offering in the proper manner. May it be your will, Lord, our God and God of our ancestors, that You bring us in joy to our land and plant us within our borders, so that we may offer the sacrifices required of us there, continual [tamid] offerings in their proper order, and additional offerings in the manner prescribed for them. Then we will prepare and offer the additional offering of this Sabbath day before you with love, according to to Your will, as you wrote for us in your Torah, by the hand of Moses your servant, from Your Glory's mouth. . .

The prayer continues with the text of Numbers 28:9-10, which describes the mussaf offering:

On the Sabbath day, two year-old unblemished lambs, and two tenths of an ephah of fine meal mixed with oil, and its libation. The burnt-offering of the Sabbath, in addition to the continual burnt offering and its libation.

The Conservative Sim Shalom siddur (prayer book) offers several alternative versions of the passage. The least radical casts the offending portions in the past tense:***

You established the Sabbath, found favor in its offerings, comanded regarding the interpretation of its ordinances and the order of its libations. Those who rejoice in it will be honored forever, those who savor it merit life, and those who love its teachings have chosen greatness. From Sinai, they were commanded regarding it, and You, Lord God, commanded them to offer the Sabbath additional offering in the propper manner. May it be Your will, Lord, our God and God of our ancestors, Who returns children to their territory,**** that You bring us in joy to our land and plant us within our borders, where our ancestors offered the offerings required of them, continual offerings in their proper order, and additional offerings in the manner prescribed for them. There we will serve you with love and awe as in ancient times. They prepared and offered the mussaf offering for this Sabbath day before you with love, according to your will, as written in your Torah, by the hand of Moses your servant, from Your Glory's mouth. . .

The quotation from Numbers follows but is designated as optional. After the quote, another line is added:

Compassionate King, accept the prayer of your people Israel with mercy, wherever they dwell.

The Sim Shalom also includes an "alternative" mussaf service, which offers a choice of four substitutes for the above paragraph. The first is based on the traditional version but alters it significantly:

You have established the Sabbath, found favor in its offerings, commanded regarding the interpretation of its ordinances with the order of its libations. Those who rejoice in it will be honored forever, those who savor it merit life, and those who love its teachings have chosen greatness. From Sinai they were commanded regarding it, and you have commanded us to serve you in Jerusalem your city, on your holy Sabbath day, on your holy mountain. May it be Your will, Lord, our God and God of our ancestors, Who returns children to their territory, that you bring us in joy to our land and plant us within our borders, and that violence no longer be heard in our land, or destruction within our borders. There may we serve you in love and awe as in ancient times. Compassionate King, accept the prayer of your people Israel with compassion, wherever they dwell.

The remaining three alternatives were composed in English. They make no mention of past, present, or future worship in Jerusalem, focusing instead on the challanges and rewards of contemporary Sabbath observance.

All this variation within the official liturgy of a single movement attests to the controversiality of eschatology and sacrifice -- two issues to which most "modern" Jews devote very little attention. When we envision a better world, what do we see? A return to a better past? A revival of particular elements of the past, altered to suit contemporary mores? An age of peace between Jews and Muslims (with Jewish control of the Temple Mount, of course)? How do we regard those portions of the Torah that deal with sacrifice? Are they of merely historical interest (not that I have any problem with that)? Are they a forecast of the future? Or is there, perhaps, another option?

* Sorry, no citations this time. You'll just have to take my word for it.
** I am aware of the fact that my transliterations have become less and less consistent over time. You'll have to deal with it.
*** This translation is my own. A less literal translation appears in the siddur itself.
**** A paraphrase of Jeremiah 31:17. The editors of the Sim Shalom never missed an opportunity to sneak in a bit of Zionism.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Yom Kippur Post-Mortem

I wanted to provide an update on our plans for Yom Kippur services before they actually happened, but things got a little bit crazy, and then they kind of stayed that way. On the whole, services went pretty well. Many thanks to those of you who suggested sources for readings. Special thanks to Rachel Barenblat, who provided an original poem entitled "Kol Nidre," which we used. I'd also like to thank Brother-in-Law if he is reading this. He worked very hard to make these services happen.

I led the kol nidre/ ma'ariv service,* which was held in the Moot Court [insert sarcastic comment here]. I could have done better, but I certainly could have done worse. The remaining services took place in the Hillel building. DH lead shacharit and neilah, I lead mussaf, and Brother-in-Law lead mincha, both before kol nidre and before ne'ilah. Pesukei d'zimra was (were?) lead by a local student. Other students read the Torah portion and the haftarah.

Planning the service was actually a lot of fun. We had to use the Birnbaum machzor, an Orthodox prayerbook published in 1951, and we wanted to adjust the service for our community without creating too much confusion. We referred to four other machzors for guidance: the Conservative Silverman machzor, published in the 1948, the Conservative Harlow machzor, published in 1972, the Reform machzor, called Gates of Repentance,** and the infamous Artscroll, the Orthodox machzor du jour. None of these alone would have been quite right for our purposes. For starters, none uses inclusive language or accommodates a female shlichat tsibbur. Gates of Repentance and Harlow preserve too little of the traditional text; Artscroll and Birnbaum preserve too much. Birnbaum and Silverman have positively awful translations. Only Artscroll has a complete set of instructions. Here's a little summary of the various ways in which we attempted to deal with these issues:

Piyyutim: Traditional High Holy Day prayerbooks are full of medieval liturgical poems, or piyyutim. These accumulated gradually over the centuries, and different communities used different selections of poems. Phillip Birnbaum and Rabbis Scherman and Zlotowitz (otherwise known as Rav Scroll) edited their respective machzors with the apparent intention of including every piyyut ever written. I'm all for comprehensiveness, but reciting every piyyut in either Orthodox machzor is a bit silly. Some of the piyyutim are in fairly difficult Hebrew, and even those that aren't are difficult to grasp when you're ripping through them at breakneck speed. Our rule of thumb was to omit piyyutim that don't appear in Silverman and to replace a number of the remaining piyyutim with English readings on similar themes. We used one reading from Gates of Repentance, a few from Harlow, and a few from S. Y. Agnon's Days of Awe.

Slichot: Each of the five Yom Kippur services contains a version of slichot, a set of confessions and prayers for forgiveness. The extended versions recited during ma'ariv, mussaf, and ne'ilah include a string of piyyutim surrounding a refrain centered on the "thirteen attributes" of Divine mercy. Artscroll and Birnbaum repeat the refrain seven times in each set of slichot. Harlow and Silverman have it recited once. We decided to repeat the refrain three times, following the custom in our home community. Some of the piyyutim were replaced by English readings.

Avodah: The mussaf service includes a recitation/ partial reenactment of the Temple service for Yom Kippur. In Ashkenazic tradition, the avodah takes the form of a lengthy and difficult piyyut. (I am told that Sephardim use a piyyut that is considerably easier to understand.) Rabbi Harlow had the brilliant idea of replacing the piyyut with a reading consisting primarily of selections from the mishnah on which the piyyut is based. We used his version, reading most of it in English, but switching to Hebrew for the confessions of the High Priest and the prostrations.

Martyrology: The avodah is traditionally followed by a piyyut relating the (largely apocryphal) tale of the death of ten sages at the hands of a Roman emperor. The practice of reading the martyrology at this point is rooted in the (somewhat disturbing) idea that since the destruction of the Temple, Jews attain atonement through the "blood of the righteous." Naomi Chana suggested reading the midrash on which the piyyut was based instead of the poem itself, and she recommended the translation in Stern and Mirsky's Rabbinic Fantasies. I had never read the midrash before this year, so I am very grateful for the recommendation. It is a fascinating, theologically complex piece that certainly deserves to be read in its entirety, as Naomi Chana suggested. However, the midrash is quite a bit longer than the piyyut, and the martyrology is not supposed to be the centerpiece of the mussaf service. We included the entire midrash in our source packets, but we did not read it all aloud.

Additional Readings: None of us is very good at public speaking (although we were fortunate enough to have a student present who was willing to speak briefly before mincha and ne'ilah). In place of a Kol Nidre sermon, we recited Rachel Barenblat's poem. We included a reading from Harlow on fear of sin to get people into the mood for the u'netane tokef prayer, and we read a story from Days of Awe before ne'ilah.

Egalitarianism:
I have a few things to say about this, but not right now.

Okay, folks, it's almost Sukkot. We're going to visit the in-laws in New York, and I have to pack. Chag Sameach.

* Here is some basic information on Yom Kippur and its liturgy. It includes definitions of several of the terms that I use in this post. Others are defined here.
** We also referred to the British version, Gate of Repentance, which is more or less the same.

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

In Which I Finally Convince the World that I Have Exchanged Judaism for Tiflus

In another venue, I mentioned that I've been idly composing liturgy for a same-sex wedding/commitment ceremony for no one in particular. Andrea asked to see it, at which point I decided that I may as well "come out of the closet" on this issue. Yes, I am a silly, empty-headed liberal Jew with the audacity to make up blessings. Sue me.

Now that that's over with, some background:

A halakhik wedding ceremony consists of two components, ארוסין or קדושין and נשואין. Combined, these procedures change a woman's sexual status from "forbidden to all men" to "permitted to her husband." Of course, this is not the ultimate essence of marriage, but it is its halakhik essence, and that is reflected in the blessing that accompanies ארוסין.

I believe that there are halakhik grounds for permitting sexual relationships between two men or two women, but, short of a rabbinic edict (which is impractical for a variety of reasons), there is no way to effect the sort of status change that takes place in a Jewish heterosexual wedding. Therefore, the terms ארוסין, קדושין, and נשואין are inappropriate in this context, as is the blessing traditionally recited over ארוסין. I see no problem, however, with applying the English terms, "marriage," "wedding," "bride," and "groom," or the Hebrew terms חתן and כלה (groom and bride). These terms are of primarily cultural, rather than halakhik, significance, and the concepts that we associate with them are perfectly applicable to same-sex unions.

I have heard that Rachel Adler, in Engendering Judaism (which I have yet to read), proposes a union ceremony that has the halakhik function of merging two people's property. This seems to me like about the right idea. Ideally, the procedure would involve an exchange of rings, which, in my understanding, it very well could.

The bit that I've been working on (if you can call it "working,") is a version of the "Seven Blessings" (שבע ברכות), which are traditionally recited as part of the נשואין ceremony and at meals througout the following week. My goal was to change as little as possible while ensuring that blessings be appropriate for this new context. Below are the blessings, in Hebrew and English, followed by explanations of the changes. (My translation is heavily influenced by Adler's.)

ברוך אתה ה אלוקינו מלך העולם שהכל ברא לכבודו.
1. Blessed are You, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, who created everything for your glory.

ברוך אתה ה אלקינו מלך העולם יוצר האדם.
2. Blessed are You, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, shaper of humanity.

ברוך אתה ה אלקינו מלך העולם אשר יצר את האדם בצלמו, בצלם אלקים ברא אותו, זכר ונקבה ברא אותם. ברוך אתה ה יוצר האדם.
3. Blessed are You, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, who has shaped human beings in Your image, creating male and female. Blessed are You, Lord, shaper of humainity.

.שוש תשיש ותגל העקרה, בקבוץ בניה לתוכה בשמחה. ברוך אתה ה משמח ציון בבניה.
4. May the barren one exult and be glad as her children are joyfully gathered to her. Blessed are You, Lord, who gladdens Zion with her children.

שמח תשמח רעים האהובים, כשמחך יצירך בגן עדן מקדם. ברוך אתה ה משמח רעים אהובים.
5. Grant great joy to these loving companions as You once gladdened your creations in the Garden of Eden. Blessed are You, Lord, who gladdens loving companions.

ברוך אתה ה אלקינו מלך העולם אשר ברא ששון ושמחה, חתן וכלה, גילה, רינה, דיצה וחדוה, אהבה ואחוה ושלום ורעות. מהרה ה אלקינו ישמע בערי יהודה ובחוצות ירושלים קול ששון וקול שמחה, קול חתן וקול כלה, קול מצהלות חתנים מחפתם
ונערים ממשתה נגינתם. ברוך אתה ה משמח רעים אהובים.

6. Blessed are You, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, who created joy and gladness, groom and bride, merriment, song, dance and delight, love and harmony, peace and companionship. Lord our God, may there soon be heard in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem the voice of joy and the voice of gladness, the voice of the bridegroom and the voice of the bride, the rapturous voices of the wedded from the bridal chambers, and of young people feasting and singing. Blessed are You, Lord, who gladdens loving companions.

ברוך אתה ה אלקינו מלך העולם בורא פרי הגפן.
7. Blessed are You, Lord our God, Ruler of the universe, who creates the fruit of the vine.

Comments:

1. This blessing is unchanged.

2. This blessing is unchanged. Hebrew אדם, like English "man," can be either exclusive or inclusive of females. I've followed Adler in using the translation "humankind."

3. The original blessing is based on Gen. 2:22. It emphasizes the complementary roles of male and female, suggests that woman comes from man, and may also refer to couples' ability to perpetuate God's image through procreation. This version is based on Gen. 1:27. It emphasizes the essential sameness of man and woman and our common divine origin. It also suggests that where the word אדם ("man," or "humankind") occurs in these blessings, it should be understood in a gender-neutral sense.

4. This blessing is unchanged. (While it poses certain theoretical problems in this day and age, they have nothing to do with the gender of the couple, so I've left the blessing alone.)

5. I've replaced "bride and groom" with "loving companions," a reference to the Song of Songs. (The Hebrew literally translates, "beloved companions," but I think this translation conveys the meaning more accurately.) The first occurance of the phrase in the blessing is original. So, yes, I've rendered it redundant. I don't think this is a problem. (Compare the original versions of blessings 3 and 6.)

6. This blessing conveys the hope that Jerusalem will one day be filled with happy brides and grooms. (Again, a bit of a problem, but not particular to this context.) It reflects the language of Jeremiah. I see no reason to alter the terms "bride" and "groom" in this context. However, the end of the original blessing ("who gladdens the bridegroom with the bride") is inappropriate. I've replaced the bridegroom and bride with the "loving companions" of the previous blessing, but I'm not sure I like it. Suggestions?

7. This blessing is unchanged.

Feedback is welcome.

Monday, August 23, 2004

A Call For English Readings



My brother-in-law is running High Holy Day services in Montreal (with a little bit of help from others, including DH and me), and he has apparently had trouble finding English readings that are accessible without being completely vapid. This has left me thinking about why appropriate readings are so difficult to find.

Part of the problem is that our situation is so far from ideal. It would be nice if everyone could read the traditional prayers in their original language. It would be nice if everyone were sufficiently familiar with the liturgy to be able to invest it with meaning on their own. It would be nice if we could count on everyone to be 100% present, ready to be intellectually and emotionally invested in the service. Since none of these is the case, we is stuck trying to find texts in the vernacular that relatively apathetic congregants might find meaningful on their first and only reading.

Another problem is that the readings that exist are found mainly in Reform and Reconstructionist prayer books, and they are generally unsatisfying. Just as liberal Jews seem to have trouble achieving a sense of grief on Tisha B'Av, they seem to have trouble promoting guilt and remorse on the High Holy Days. Liberal spiritual leaders want to make worship a positive experience. They want to emphasize God's mercy and unconditional love for all humankind. They don't like the idea of divine judgment. That's all very well, but in the final analysis, there can be no repentance without remorse, and without repentance, the quest for spirituality is rather vacuous. We have to start by feeling bad about ourselves.

A third problem is the literary quality (or lack thereof) of most contemporary "creative liturgy." The Conservative prayer book is filled with horrid compositions by committees of rabbis, which sound like translations even though they aren't. Stilted language can be distracting.

Now that I've made the task seem completely insurmountable, does anyone know where we might be able to find quality English readings? They don't have to be perfect. The more material we have, the better, even if we don't love all of it. Contemporary poems by actual poets are good (I look to the VR here). Excerpts from works of Jewish philosophy, ancient or modern, are good too. Translations of traditional prayers are great if they're readable. (Does anyone know where we could find a halfway decent translation of the High Holy Day piyyutim?) Midrash, psalms, biblical passages . . . whatever. Variety is the spice of life.

Thanks for your help.

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

I'm pretty conservative when it comes to prayer and ritual. We Jews have plenty already, and -- for tradition's sake if nothing else -- learning to appreciate existing prayers and rituals seems a better use of energy than inventing new ones.

Nonetheless, there are occasions on which innovation is required, and to suggest that new rituals cannot be accommodated strikes me as absurd. All Jewish practices were invented by human beings at some point in history. When did the rules change?

Equally absurd is the practice of some Orthodox congregations to accept new rituals and prayers while making sure to indicate, in some way or other, that they aren't "real." God's name is deliberately avoided in the composition of new prayers, and acts that are normally accompanied by blessings are performed without. On Yom Ha-Atsma'ut, these congregations recite a selection of prayers without God's name, and/or recite Hallel without a blessing. Some even read from the Torah and Prophets without reciting blessings, presumably because they aren't really reading, or it isn't really Torah. Or something.

One of the wiser decisions of the Conservative movement was to model Yom Ha-Atsma'ut observance on the two other post-biblical holidays, Chanuka and Purim. An al ha-nissim prayer is inserted into the Amida and birkat ha-mazon, thanking God for another act of redemption. Hallel is recited in its entirety, accompanied by the appropriate blessings, as on Chanuka. A selection from the Torah is read, with blessings. (Okay, so they added a haftara, too. There are all sorts of random haftarot.)

You're probably expecting me to tie this up somehow, but my mind isn't quite that organized. Also, I have work to do. So that'll be all. Chag Sameach.

Sunday, March 07, 2004

Purim was fun. Megilla reading at egal is always just crazy enough without compromising people's ability to actually hear the megilla. DH and I dressed as each other, which was a little weird (I never thought I'd have to see my husband in drag), but at least the costumes were free.

This afternoon we hosted a Purim Seuda (holiday meal), which was dairy, enabling us to serve the Annual Outrage: single-malt scotch floats. (This year we used Glenmorangie and three flavors of ice cream.) There were more guests than we'd expected, and the food disappeared very quickly. But it was fun.

DH decided that he didn't like the Ohr Someyach Purim Kiddush, so he composed his own. This blessing is recited over both wine and scotch. A sip of wine is taken at each mention of the word "wine," and a sip of scotch is taken at each mention of the word "liquor." (God's name is, of course, used only in the two "real" blessings.)


הריני מזמן את פי לקיים מצוות עשה שנאמר על ידי חכמינו זכרונם לברכה: "מייחיב איניש לבסומי בפוריא עד דלא ידע בין ארור המן לברוך מרדכי" (מגילה ז:).

כוס ישועות אשא ובשם ה' אקרא.
סברי! (לחיים!)

ברוך אתה ה' א-לקינו מלך העולם בורא פרי הגפן.
ברוך אתה ה' א-לקינו מלך העולם שהכל נהיה בדברו.

ברוך אתה ה' א-לקינו מלך העולם אשר קדשנו במצוותיו ורצה שנהיה שיכורים כאבותינו ככתוב בתורתיך: "ויחל נח איש האדמה ויטע כרם. וישת מן היין וישכר" (בראשית ט:כ). ונאמר: "וירא א-לקים כי טוב" (בראשית א:י).

א-לקינו וא-לקי אבותינו רצה בשיכורנו, קדשינו במצוותיך ותן חלקינו בתורתיך כאמור: "ואתם תהיו לי ממלכת כהנים וגוי קדוש" (שמות יט:ו), כמו שכתוב: "כהן ונביא שגו בשכר נבלעו מן היין, תעו מן השכר, שגו בראה" (ישעיהו כח:ז).

שמחינו בישועתיך ככתוב: "אקחה יין ונסבאה שכר והיה כזה יום מחר גדול יתר מאד" (ישעיהו נו:יב).

טהר לבנו לרדף אחרי מצוותיך כאמור: "משכימי בבקר שכר ירדפו" (ישעיהו ה:יא).

תן יין ושכר לכלם ככתוב: "תנו שכר לאובד ויין למרי נפש. ישתה וישכח רישו ועמלו לא יזכר עוד" (משלי לא:ז).

זכינו לאכול ולשתות עם דוד עבדיך כאמור: "ויקרא לו דוד, ויאכל לפניו וישת וישכרהו" (שמואל ב' יא:יג).

ותתן לנו ה' א-לקינו באהבה את חג הפורים הזה, זמן שמחתינו מקרא קודש זכר לארור מרדכי וברוך המן. כי בנו בחרת ואותנו השקית מכל העמים. ופורים קדשך באורה ושמחה וששון ויקר הנחלתנו.

ברוך אתה ה' מקדש ישראל וסקוטלנד



Loose Translation:

I hereby prepare my mouth to fulfill the positive commandment that was issued by our sages, may their memory be blessed: "One is required to become so drunk on Purim that one is unable to distinguish between accursed-be-Haman and blessed-be-Mordecai" (B. Megilla 7:2).

I raise the cup of salvation and call out in the name of the Lord.
Hear! [Response: "L'chayim!"]

[Blessing over wine:] Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, Who creates the fruit of the vine.
[Blessing over scotch:] Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, at Whose word all things come into being.

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, Who sanctified us with Your commandments, and desired that we become drunk as our ancestors did, as written in Your Torah:
"Noah, tiller of the soil, was the first to plant a vineyard. He drank of the wine and became drunk" (Gen. 9:20). And it is written: "The Lord saw that it was good" (Gen. 1:10).

Our God and God of our ancestors, take pleasure in our drunkenness, sanctify us with Your commandments and grant us lots in Your Torah, as written:
"You shall be to me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (Ex. 19:6), as written: "Priest and prophet are muddled by liquor, confused by wine, dazed by liquor; their visions are muddled" (Isa. 28:7).

Cause us to rejoice in your salvation, as written: "I will take wine, and we will satiate ourselves with liquor, and tomorrow will be like today, only much better" (Isa. 56:12).

Purify our hearts to pursue your commandments, as written: "Those who rise early in the morning pursue liquor" (Isa. 5:11).

Grant wine and liquor to everyone, as written: "Grant liquor to the unfortunate and wine to the embittered. Let them drink and forget their poverty and remember their troubles no more" (Prov. 31:7).

Help us merit to eat and drink with David, your servant, as written: "And David called for him, and he ate before him and drank, and he made him drunk" (2 Sam. 11:13).

You, Lord our God, have with love granted us this festival of Purim, time of our rejoicing, as a reminder of "accursed-be-Mordecai and blessed-be-Haman." For You have chosen us and given us more to drink than any other nation, and You have allotted us this holy Purim day in light, joy, gladness, and honor (Est. 8:16).

Blessed are You, Lord, who sanctifies Israel and Scotland.


I hope that Naomi Chana will forgive all the paranthetical citations. Happy Shushan Purim!