Day 11 - Foreign Influences and Chametz

I saw a very interesting d’var Torah by Rabbi Chanan Morrison over shabbos, adapted from Rav Kook’s writings in Olat Re'iyah (Vol. II pp. 244-245), about which, I think, some clarification is needed:

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It says in Shemot 12:15, “For seven days you shall eat matzah, but on the first day you shall purge the leaven from your homes;…” Why does the Torah command us to destroy all chametz found in our homes during Passover? It is logical to eat matzah; this fast-baked food is historically bound, and it recalls our hurried escape from Egyptian slavery. But how does clearing out chametz from our homes relate to the Passover theme of freedom and independence?

Before we attempt to answer the question, we must understand that there are two aspects to attaining true freedom. First, one needs to be physically independent of all foreign subjugation. Complete freedom, however, also requires freedom of the spirit, for the soul is not free if it is subjected to external demands that prevent it from following the path of its inner truth.

Indeed, the difference between a slave and a free person is not just a matter of social standing. One may find an educated slave whose spirit is free, and a free person with the mindset of a slave. So, what makes us truly free? When we are able to be faithful to our inner self, to the truth of our divine image [tzelem elokim] – then we can live a fulfilled life, a life focused on our soul’s inner goals. One whose spirit is servile, conversely, will never experience this sense of true self-fulfillment; his happiness will always depend upon the approval of others who dominate him.

What, then, is chametz? It is a foreign substance added to the dough; it makes the dough rise and changes the dough’s natural shape and characteristics. Destruction of all leaven in the house, therefore, symbolizes the removal of all foreign influences and constraints that prevent us from realizing our spiritual aspirations.

These two levels of independence, physical and spiritual, exist on both the individual and the national level. An independent people must be free not only from external rule, but also from foreign domination in the cultural and spiritual spheres.

For the Israelites in Egypt, it was precisely at the hour of imminent redemption that the dangers of these foreign “leavening” forces were the greatest. At the time of great upheaval, true permanent emancipation was not a given. Would the Israelites succeed in freeing themselves, not only from Egyptian bondage, but also from the idolatrous culture in which they had lived for hundreds of years? To commemorate their complete liberation from Egypt, both physical and spiritual, the Passover holiday of freedom requires the removal of all foreign leavening agents.

Freedom is the fulfillment of our inner essence. We need to aspire to the lofty freedom of those who left Egypt. To the Israelites of that generation, God revealed himself, and brought them into His service. This is truly the highest form of freedom, as the sages taught in Avot (6:2): "The Tablets were God’s handiwork, and the script was the script of God, engraved on the Tablets (Shemos 32:16); do not read chorus (engraved), rather chairus (free), only one who studies Torah is free because anyone who studies Torah becomes elevated."
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As I mentioned, I found this d'var Torah very interesting and perhaps in need of some clarification. I, of course, am in no way pretending to be a spokesman for Rav Kook or claim to be privy to some special information. Rather, I am simply presenting my understanding of this d'var Torah, and please feel free to disagree with me if you feel so inclined.

The premise of this d'var Torah is that chametz is a foreign substance added to the dough. In truth, I do not understand this premise, for although it is true, its relevance escapes me. Meaning, yes, the leavening agent is added to dough to help it rise. However, normal dough - meaning dough without the leavening agent - also rises, and is, of course, subject to the prohibition of chametz if baked for too long. Therefore, the representation of purging chametz as the removal of all foreign influences that prevent us from realizing our spiritual aspirations seems flawed. So, I therefore am at a loss; if anyone could enlighten me I’d be most appreciative.

Ignoring that little snag for a second, let’s move on to my second and most important point. Rav Kook asserts that chametz is a foreign substance added to the dough and that the purging of it symbolizes the removal of all foreign influences and constraints that prevent us from realizing our spiritual aspirations. I think it’s very important to understand that not all foreign influences are bad. Rather, only the foreign influences that prevent us from realizing our spiritual aspirations need to be worried about. In other words, I do not believe that Rav Kook is labeling anything secular as bad. Rather, I feel that he is calling on us to ensure that we are not being influenced by negative influences, specifically the ones that constrain us. These influences and constraints are, of course, subjective.

Third, Rav Kook’s assertion that one may find an educated slave whose spirit is free, and a free person with the mindset of a slave is absolutely true. And this, of course, calls into mind the famous words of Richard Lovelace, a 17th century cavalier poet, written in prison: “Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage;…If I have freedom in my love, And in my soul am free, Angels alone that soar above Enjoy such liberty.”

Lastly, for a good article on the quote from Avot 6:2, see here.

Day 10 - My Apologies and Change of Plans

Alright. I have failed.

It has become apparent to me that I will not be able to post every day, especially considering that school will soon be starting again. It seems as if I was overly ambitious and slightly too zealous.

I hope to continue posting 2-3 times per week. This way, the posts will be better, both content-wise and stylistically.

I apologize to myself and anyone else who cares.

All the best,

Tzvi

PS. There WILL be a post tomorrow.

Day 9 - Fragility of Life

My last final, on John Milton and Seventeenth Century Literature, was two days ago, and I’m happy to report that it went very well. I was very worried entering the exam due to its exhaustive nature, for it covered much more material than the midterm did. We had to know prose of Sir Francis Bacon, Thomas Hobbes, John Milton, as well as some of Milton’s poems. Oh yeah, and Paradise Lost – the greatest epic the English language has ever seen. Anyway, as I said, it went well. And anyone who has taken and studied his or her butt off for finals knows the fantastic relief experienced when they finish.

To celebrate the momentous occasion of finishing my first semester of college, I went to see a movie with a friend. We saw Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street and, simply put, it was amazing. Kind of gory, admittedly, but that only added to the fun. Johnny Depp was superb, as usual, and Helena Bonham Carter had a very strong performance as well. Anyway, the following afternoon (Wednesday), I saw another movie: 300. For those of who haven’t seen the film, I highly recommend it. The messages of freedom, resistance to tyranny, and standing up for what you believe in – even if you’re the only one standing – are very much applicable today.

But those messages aren’t what I want to talk about. Rather, another message came to mind as I watched these two movies, one, I think, that has lost its way somewhat in today’s world of violence, war, and death: the fragility of life. This concept is no chiddush (novel idea), of course, but it’s something, I think, that we could all do with reminding ourselves about every so often. SPOILER ALERT: I mean, watching those countless men have their throats (awesomely) slit and seeing all that blood spray out was really cool considering that it was fake. But we must remember that all of these men had lives, families, and memories that were lost instantly. Just like that.

I had similar thoughts while watching 300 (and just about every other movie with people dying, come to think of it). Although the fight scenes were absolutely spectacular (especially when the slow motion was utilized), seeing the thousands of slaughtered Persians really made me realize the loss that humanity suffered, especially considering that Xerxes (king of Persians) said he would gladly kill his own men for victory. So, all of those men were killed. Just like that. (I am not here to question the validity or necessity of war. I am merely commenting about the tragedy and loss suffered when people die.)

With the situation as it is in the Middle East, I, admittedly, have lost my way; I do not feel sad when I hear about the countless deaths resulting from the constant attacks, missiles, and bombs. I’ve lost sight of the fragility of life. When I hear of such attacks, I simply mutter to myself “too bad” or some other inconsiderate retort. And such a response is a terrible disgrace to both humanity and God! Thankfully, therefore, watching these movies have somewhat restored my sensitivities to the tragedies that exist.

As John Donne, one of the great metaphysical poets, famously declared in Meditation XVII, "All mankind is of one author, and is one volume;...No man is an island, entire of itself...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

Indeed.

Day 8 - My Travel Day

I'm about to leave for the airport...I'll b"h post when I get back to Chicago.

Update (11:50 PM): Sorry everyone - it was a crazy day today. Will be back tomorrow...

Day 7 - A New King: Does it Matter?

A few days ago I was discussing with a friend the pasuk, “Vayakom melech chadash al mitzrayim asheir lo yada et Yosef” or, “A new king arose over Egypt who did not know Yosef” (Shemot 1:8). There’s a gemara (Sotah 11a) that records a machloket (argument between) Rav and Shmuel over the correct interpretation of this pasuk. One said that the pasuk means a new king, in the literal sense, arose over Egypt, whereas the other said it was the same king who ruled during the lifetime of Yosef who simply issued new edicts and acted as if he didn’t know Yosef.

During the conversation, I asked my friend which view he subscribed to – a new king proper or the same king who had a change of heart? He, like all Jews, responded with a question of his own. He asked what nafka minah it made – meaning, what practical difference does it make which interpretation is correct?

Truthfully, I was slightly taken aback by his response. I mean, yeah, I guess it doesn’t really make any significant difference, one way or the other. But one might think that striving for the correct interpretation of the Torah would be an important and laudable goal in itself. After all, how many commentators have dedicated (at least part of) their lives to the Torah and its interpretation?

And perhaps this it part of a much larger question about the importance of literal vs. non-literal interpretation of the Torah: is it worth studying? Meaning, does it really matter if the beginning of Vayera (i.e. the three angels visiting Avraham on the third day after his circumcision) was a dream or actually happened? Or what about creation – does it really matter if it took six days or fifteen billion years?

I would suggest that it depends on how you define “matter.” If one wants to look from a practical perspective, asking how this piece of information will “change” one’s life, then no, I guess it doesn’t really “matter.” If one, however, looks from an inquisitive perspective and seeks the truth – then it “matters” very much! All information matters! To understand anything, be it God’s creations or world history, is of value. Of course, the value need not be tangible and fit inside your pocket (or bank account). Rather, knowledge for knowledge’s sake is the objective; truth for truth’s sake is the goal.

Day 6 - Avarice

George Herbert, one of the great Metaphysical Poets, has this really cute poem on the paradox of money:

Avarice

Money, thou bane of blisse, & sourse of wo,
Whence com’st thou, that thou art so fresh and fine?
I know thy parentage is base and low:
Man found thee poore and dirtie in a mine.

Surely thou didst so little contribute
To this great kingdome, which thou now hast got,
That he was fain, when thou wert destitute,
To digge thee out of thy dark cave and grot:
Then forcing thee by fire he made thee bright:
Nay, thou hast got the face of man; for we
Have with our stamp and seel transferr’d our right:
Thou art the man, and man but drosse to thee.
Man calleth thee his wealth, who made thee rich;
And while he diggs out thee, falls in the ditch.

Here, Herbert sees avarice succinctly expressing the paradox of money, which becomes the drudge when we elevate it into sovereignty, stamp our image on it and worship it. Inevitably, people who behave like that fall into the ditch, because of the blindness that results when we refuse to look on the real world of God, but persist in following our own corruptible sin. (http://trushare.com/91DEC02/DE02FAFA.htm - I've been up all night so I didn't feel like typing out a whole explanation myself)

Anyway, I think that this is a very potent message and I just thought that I'd share it.

Day 5 - My son, Esav

The more I think about it, the more I’d be comfortable with naming my son Esav or Yishmael. Now, I recently spoke with a quite a few people about this issue and the answers that I received differed greatly. Some said that they didn’t yet have an opinion on the issue while others didn’t even see what the problem was. Most people, however, responded with a resounding NO. They asked how I could even contemplate doing such a thing to my son and told me that I’d be cursing and decreeing him to a life of torment and distress.

But why must it be that way? Now, I understand that some people have the desire to name their kids after the heavy-hitters, such as Adam, Avraham, Yitzchak, Ya’akov, Yosef (my middle name), Aharon, Moshe, Yehoshua, etc, and that some people choose to name their children after family members (such as my full name, Tzvi Yosef). But I don’t get it – weren’t Esav and Yishmael family also? Why can’t we view them as our non-religious great-uncles?

It's interesting to note that only some names have been affected by this attitude, as there are plenty of infamy tainted names floating around. Take the name Menashe, for example. Menashe, the son of Chizkiyahu, was one of the worst (i.e. evil) kings in Jewish History. Yet, we see Menashes all around. And likewise the name Shabbsai – we see people with the name even though the period of Shabbsai Tzvi, the false messiah, was such a dark one for the Jewish People.

Update (9:35 PM): After reading the comments and thinking about it some more, I feel the need to clarify my views on the matter: Chances are that I will not ending naming my son Esav as there are halakhic problems with giving a child a name that will cause him harm, be it emotional or physical. However, on a theoretical level I think it's fine; practically, though, it could be problematic. All I meant to say in this post is that – in theory – I’m in favor of giving such names, as I don’t feel there is any actual connection between an isolated name and anyone who had the name prior. However, due to the harassment he would receive, I would probably opt to not do so. Thanks for all the comments...

Day 4 - My Hypocritical Quote

I have decided that Sundays will be quote days, meaning that I will take a quote and briefly comment on it. Not rocket science, I know. Anyway, here goes:

"Give me liberty or give me death!" said Patrick Henry, who owned slaves. The operative word here is "me." – Dr. Manfred Weidhorn

We all like to think that we live truthful lives, be it to ourselves, others, or even God. However, there’s no denying that we often act hypocritically. Well, at least I do. I’ve noticed, many times post facto, that on more than a one occasion, I’ll act or speak hypocritically without so much as twitching an eyelash (sorry for the cliché). Whether it’s through holding double standards or through refusing to have an uncomfortable conversation with someone whom I forced into a similar conversation a few days before, I’ve definitely been guilty.

This quote also has traces of selfishness. And this is something that we have all been guilty of at some point or another. In fact, just yesterday at lunch, someone at my table made sure to be the first one to take from the food platters, taking the best and finest meat, cholent, and other delectables before anyone else even had a chance. Now, I mean come on. So what if you get that piece of white meat instead of the dark meat you crave so dearly. I mean, it’s just meat. And, of course, this does not only apply to food. If one’s roommate is trying to go to sleep – turn off the lights ‘til he’s incapacitated; if he’s trying to study – use earphones and don’t blast your music!

Anyway, these are just some thoughts on a cute quote. And I know that I can’t speak for anyone else – but I’ve certainly been guilty and have what to work on.

My goal: to work on hypocrisy and selfishness.

Day 3 - Land for Peace?

It seems as if much of the Israeli Government is not familiar with the Torah.

Surprised? Well, neither am I. But I heard a dvar torah with a great message today, one, I think, that anyone who cares about the future of the Jewish people should hear (or in this case, read). Admittedly, however, I'm unsure as to how all the pieces fit together (see end).

Mentioned in today’s Parsha, Va’eira, are the various stages of redemption that God promised to Moshe regarding the Jewish people:

6. Therefore, say to the Children of Israel: ‘I am Hashem, and I shall take you out from under the burdens of Egypt; and I shall rescue you from their service; and I shall redeem you with an outstretched arm and with great judgments. 7. And I shall take you to Me for a people and I shall be a God to you; and you shall know that I am Hashem your God, Who takes you out from under the burdens of Egypt. And I shall bring you to the land about which I have raised My hand to give it to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; and I shall give it to you as a heritage – I am Hashem.’

We all know that on Passover we drink four cups of wine (or for some, grape juice) in commemoration of the first four stages. Why only four? One would think that five cups would be used – after all, five stages were mentioned. Why was the fifth cup omitted? (And don’t say it’s because the sages didn’t want us drunk…)

Rabbi Hershel Reichman, one of YU’s Roshei Yeshiva posed this question today after davening. He felt that the answer lay in the Jews’ voting in favor of the spies’ proposal (in parshat Sh’lach) to stay in the desert a bit longer until they, the Jewish people, were strong enough to fight the Seven Nations of Israel, opting to not trust in God who assured the Jews of their safety and right to the land. This refusal of And I shall bring you to the land, Rabbi Reichman said, is the reason why we don’t have a fifth cup. After all – we voted against completely trusting in God!!!

And to think that there are Jews who are still willing to give away any part of Israel for “peace.” Obviously we need to put in the effort of maintaining the land and borders. But, where’s the faith in God? Why not pray and have faith in God that we will ultimately have peace and that giving land away is not the way to go? It's been proven to not work! (Even the people who hold that on a theoretical level land should be traded for peace must admit that on a practical level it doesn't work.) Do these people not realize that this lack of faith is the very reason, according to many people, that the Jews have been exiled these many long years? The Chinese have been living in china for 4,000 years – why couldn’t it have been the same for the Jews? The answer, according to Rabbi Reichman, is that it could have been the same. If the Jews had had complete faith in God, they would have entered Israel immediately and we would have been spared much pain and anguish over the past 2,000 years.

And for those who believe that giving away land results in peace – wake up! It doesn’t work! The past fifteen years have proved that. Even Agudas Yisroel–who used to maintain that if giving up land would truly result in peace then halakhicly we not only could give away land, but should–recently officially changed their opinion that under no circumstances should we give away any part of Israel!

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that we, in fact, do have a fifth cup on Passover: the cup of Eliyahu HaNavi. And indeed, one of its functions is to remind ourselves of how we erred. However, it also is meant to remind us that one day, through atonement and proper faith in God, we will be able to drink that fifth cup.

I’m not sure about anyone else, but I sure want that fifth cup…

(So, I admit that although I agree strongly that land should be not be "traded" away, I'm not exactly positive as to how exactly "trading" away land = lack of faith in God. It seems to me that it's much more rooted in how we understand the mitzva of yishuv ha'aretz, the commandment to settle the land of Israel. For those who understand it as a Biblical commandment that applies for all time and requires (under certain circumstances) that people be willing to give up their lives for its sake, trading away land is obviously out of the question. For those who say that land can be traded away, yishuv ha'aretz is understood as a voluntary mitzvah (either a Biblical or Rabbinic one - unclear), one which certainly doesn’t call for us to make the ultimate sacrifice. This opinion also holds that if lives could be saved by trading away some of Israel, then we absolutely should, for saving lives is more important than anything (with three exceptions)! Of course, as written above, this latter opinion, on a practical level, doesn't work.

So, if anyone has any suggestions as to how "trading" away land = lack of faith in God please let me know. Thanks.)

Day 2 - My Karajan Dilemma

Herbert Von Karajan, for those of you who don’t know, was one of the greatest and most renowned conductors of the 20th century. His obituary in the New York Times even described him as "probably the world's best-known conductor and one of the most powerful figures in classical music." Simply put, he was amazing. Watch any of his videos on youtube and it’ll be clear how unique he was (eyes almost always shut, no music in front of him). But there’s a little snag, see. He was a member of the Nazi party from 1933 – 1945.

Now, there’s a debate as to whether or not he was idealistically a Nazi or rather if he joined simply to boost his career. I’m not going to give my opinion on the issue because I obviously have no way of knowing. For the sake of this conversation, however, my opinion doesn’t really matter; what matters is that he was a suspect Nazi.

My question, then, is how should we treat his music and performances. Should we say that anything he produced should be off-limits? If we did, we wouldn’t be the first people to do so. Musicians such as Isaac Stern, Arthur Rubinstein, and Itzhak Perlman refused to play in concerts with Karajan because of his Nazi past. Now, this question is not limited to Karajan. Rather, it applies to anyone who produces intellectual property of any sort.

It seems that there are two underlying questions here, both of which need our attention. The first: should the life and historical context of an artist (be it musician, author, poet, painter, etc.) be taken into consideration when evaluating their work? And the second: if yes, how much of an effect should the artist’s life and historical context have on how we treat their work? Before I attempt to answer these two questions, however, let me first state that I think this issue is completely subjective. Meaning, I’m not here to tell anyone what or who they should listen to and how they should go about deciding; you all can fetch for yourselves.

To answer the first question, I think the answer is definitely yes; meaning, the life and times of an artist are inseparable with the artist’s creations. For example, if one was to read through paradise lost, it’s very likely that he would complete the masterpiece thinking that John Milton was a misogynist. Of course, such a notion is absurd, especially considering that seventeenth-century England viewed women as wholly inferior to men, essentially evil, and generally to be avoided (except when procreating with). Milton, who, admittedly, did view women as slightly inferior to men, viewed the role of a wife as an important one and that men were not complete without their woman counterparts. This example is just one of many. So yes, the life and times of an artist, in my opinion, are inseparable with the artist’s creations.

The second question is more distinction-oriented. For example, Karajan-if he indeed was a Nazi-never acted on such an ideology. Wagner, too, never acted on his accused anti-semitism and had Jewish friends. I feel, then, that their works are not problematic in the slightest, and that no one should feel guilty listening to their works of magic (as opposed to some people who disagree with me).

But let’s say, for argument’s sake, that they had killed Jews (or anyone, for that matter). What then? I would say that in such a scenario the artists in question should not be listened to, for music (or art, or poetry) is reflective of a person’s inner essence (heads up to Yair Shachak for helping me understand this). And if an artist is a murderer, his music and inner essence is dripping with blood. I want no part of such music. I’d much prefer music that represents a man’s struggle to write music without God’s gift of hearing.

Essentially, then, my rule is that if intellectual property is tainted then I want nothing to do with it. How is tainted defined? Well…that’s subjective. But to me, actions prove a person. Much more than words do, anyway.

Day 1 - My intent

It’s officially Thursday morning, January 3rd, as the time is 2:37 AM - well past midnight. For all intents and purposes, however, it’s still Wednesday night, January 2nd. As I’m sure the more perceptive of you have realized, it was recently the secular New Year, the beginning of 2008 (wow – has time flown or what? I’m already 20!!!). Hmm…there are so many things I would like to talk about, like why I feel it’s worth celebrating the secular New Year and why I’m writing a blog at all.

Let’s start with the latter first, shall we? I’m writing a blog for a few reasons: to 1) preserve my thoughts, 2) further discover myself, 3)start thought-provoking discussions, and 4) perhaps provide insight–to anyone willing to read–into the life of a (Yeshiva University) student. I kept a journal throughout my trips to Poland & England and throughout the end of my shana bet (which came to an end over a year ago…I want to write about that as well). Looking back, I find it beneficial to have done so. I feel that one must always remember one’s origins, and I don’t only mean the physical ones. Yes, I’m from Chicago and was raised in a Modern-Orthodox, Religious Zionist home. But one must remember more than that – one must remember his mental beginnings as well. Meaning, the ideological (perhaps various) stances that a person may have are nothing short of the results of all his or her experiences (in my case, his). Thus, this blog will help me remember where I started, where I went, where I currently am, and where I might be going.

Truthfully, this blog is more for me than it is for the reader. So why, you might ask, am I making it a public blog? Why do I not write my daily musings on a word processor and keep it to myself? The answer is threefold: 1) I will undoubtedly gain from people’s comments (if any); 2) my thoughts might provoke the reader–in turn–to look deep inside him or herself and discover who he or she really is; or, perhaps, 3) my thoughts might start a thought-provoking discussion. Does that mean that this blog will not be useful to a person who has already discovered himself? I hope not, but I truthfully have no idea. But I’ll let those lucky people solve that problem. Anyway, enough for one night. It’s finals week, and as such, it would behoove me to get some rest so that I can have a productive study day tomorrow.

My goal: to write every day, commenters or not.

(I should also note that I got the idea to write a blog in part from Moshe at http://wildtumor.blogspot.com/. Just giving credit where credit is due...)