Lady Amalthea

Of Heroes

I have never much admired heroes and celebrities or public martyrs
Whose deeds are properly applauded and whose vanity is warmed even behind bars.
Nor have I been taken with chastity and celibacy and varied and sundry virginities.
my heart is moved by the middle-aged lady who walks her cat
or curbs her dog in the early evening
And goes home alone to a little apartment
where virginity is a cold fact
And not a jewel in anyone's crown,
Where martyrdom is not measured by white robes or assassination,
But by a single place setting and a lonely two-week vacation.

~James Kavanaugh

*

Regal and dignified, her badly-cut dyed brown hair framing her face, she turns to me. Her eyes are shadowed; she is so unutterably weary, living a life that is so entirely at odds with the utter good that has been her existence. I look into her eyes and remember another woman, another day, a lady with gorgeous brown curls tumbling down her back, her eyes shining, clothed in a radiant blue, tall, triumphant and exquisite- a queen.

Her words are dipped in grace, her every expression tinkling with the hint of the exotic accent that remains to her. She is bowed and cast down; she stares at the black pavement and her sensible ugly shoes. Gone are the flattering clothes, the colorful silks, her father's wealth, her family's station. All that remains to her are memories, and bitter ones, for they are of times that were better than these.

She is the only one to have obeyed the precepts and the commandments, the only one to care for her aging mother. She lives with her, seeing to her every need, however time-consuming or undignified. She is patient, she is kind, she is dead, a woman who has sacrificed herself for the woman who bore her. Technology seems strange to her; all she has is the television, her only outlet, her only form of connection to the world, the only form of self-expression that remains to her. Her television and her walkman, these are her comforts, allowing her the vestiges of the culture and elegance she so loves, she who has a PhD in Russian Literature, she who once taught in the schools of the elite.

If thou beest he; But O how fall'n! how chang'd
From him, who in the happy Realms of Light
Cloth'd with transcendent brightnes
didst outshine Myriads though bright...

So a Satan could exclaim, but more properly a God. For her sake could I believe in a next world did I not, if only so that she might merit palaces beyond those the angels have seen. This is the woman- this woman who put her hands upon the street so that her mother, her sandal having fallen off, could walk-in her the merit of Esau exists, if it is not doubled, or trebled. For Esau had his wives, his prosperity and his blessing, but she has none- so look God, and judge!

She must have her sadnesses and sorrows, but is resigned to them. She is weary but she does not bear a grudge towards her mother; she treats her with a kindness and gentleness that shatters me. There are no accusations, frantic screams of a spoiled child yearning for freedom, no ingratitude or cruelty, only tea within the Chinese teacup, white rice placed quietly upon a plate.

Aggada vs. Halakha

As much as I love Rabbi Soloveitchik's Halakhic Man, I have always felt closer to his seemingly secondary homo religiosus. At spots, I resemble Halakhic man, but not overall, and I have always felt this to be an inadequacy.

This was until I discovered Abraham Joshua Heschel's work, God in Search of Man.

He beautifully explains the specific and unique importance of both halakha and aggadah, and further explains why we cannot have a religion that focuses on one to the exclusion of the other. He explains that it is the blend, utilizing both of these techniques/ ways of seeing the world, that leads to the full and complete Judaism.

In his chapter "The Problem of Polarity," he explains the unique functions of halakha and agada:

Halacha represents the strength to shape one's life according to a fixed pattern; it is a form-giving force. Agada is the expression of man's ceaseless striving which often defies all limitations. Halacha is the rationalization and schematization of living; it defines, specifies, sets measure and limit, placing life into an exact system. Agada deals with man's ineffable relations to God, to other men, and to the world. Halacha deals with details, with each commandment separately; agada deals with the whole of life, with the totality of religious life. Halacha deals with the law; agada with the meaning of the law. Halacha deals with subjects that can be expressed literally; agada introduces us to a realm which lies beyond the range of expression. Halacha teaches us how to perform common acts; agada tells us how to participate in the eternal drama. Halacha gives us knowledge; agada gives us aspiration. (336)

What is the problem with halacha without agada?

To reduce Judaism to law, to halacha, is to dim its light, to pervert its essence and to kill its spirit. We have a legacy of agada together with a system of halacha, and although, because of a variety of reasons, that legacy was frequently overlooked and agada became subservient to halacha, halacha is ultimately dependant upon agada. Halacha, the rationalization of living, is not only forced to employ elements which are themselves unreasoned; its ultimate authority depends upon agada. For what is the basis of halacha? The statement "Moses received the Torah from Sinai." Yet this statement does not express a halachic idea. For halacha deals with what man ought to do, with that which man can translate into action, with things which are definite and concrete, and anything tht lies beyond man's scope is not an object of halacha. The event at Sinai, the mystery of revelation, belongs to the sphere of agada. Thus while the content of halacha is subject to its own reasoning, its authority is derived from agada.

Halacha does not deal with the ultimate level of existence. The law does not create in us the motivation to love and to fear God, nor is it capable of endowing us with the power to overcome evil and to resist its temptations, nor with the loyalty to fulfill its precepts. It supplies the weapons, it points the way; the fighting is left to the soul of man.

[...]

Halacha is an answer to a question, namely: What does God ask of me? The moment that question dies in the heart, the answer becomes meaningless. That question, however, is agadic, spontaneous, personal. (338-339)

What is the problem with agada without halacha?

To reduce Judaism to inwardness, to agada, is to blot out its light, to dissolve its essence and to destroy its reality. Indeed, the surest way to forfeit agada is to abolish halacha. They can only surive in symbiosis. Without halacha agada loses its substance, its character, its source of inspiration, its security against becoming secularized.

By inwardness alone we do not come to God. The purest intentions, the finest sense of devotion, the noblest spiritual aspirations are fatuous when not realized in action. Spiritualism is a way for angels, not for man. There is only one function that can take place without the aid of external means: dreaming. When dreaming, man is almost detached from concrete reality. Yet spiritual life is not a dream and is in constant need of action. Action is the verification of the spirit. Does friendship consist of mere emotion? Of indulgence in feeling? Is it not always in need of tangible, material means of expression? The life of the spirit too needs concrete actions for its actualization. The body must not be left alone; the spirit must be fulfilled in the flesh. The spirit is decisive; but it is life, all of life, where the spirit is at stake. To consecrate our tongue and our hands we need extraordinary means of pedagogy. (340)

Which takes precedence?

It is impossible to decide whether in Judaism supremacy belongs to halacha or to agada, to the lawgiver or the Psalmist. The Rabbis may have sensed the problem. Rab said: The world was created for the sake of David, so that he might sing hymns and psalms to God. Samuel said: The world was created for the sake of Moses, so that he might receive the Torah. (340)

Heschel sees Halakhas as akin to Regularity (keva). He sees Agada as akin to Spontaneity (kavanah.) He explains that generally the pole of regularity is stronger than that of spontaneity, and therefore we must take care, as there is a "perpetual danger of our observance and worship becoming mere habit, a mechanical performance. The fixed pattern and regularity of our services tend to stifle the spontaneity of devotion." At the same time, he explains that it is necessary to make our actions habitual, as "loyalty to external forms, dedication of the will is itself a form of worship. The mitsvot sustain their halo even when our minds forget to light in us the attentiveness to the holy." He compares this to a father working each day to feed his children; he "fulfills the good regardless of whether his mind is constantly bent upon the moral intention of his deeds."

The other extreme, of course, is to "abrogate the principle of regularity, to worship only when we are touched by the spirit and to observe only what is relevant to our minds." The problem is that oftentimes, one's moments of illumination and spontaneity are rare, and "in the long interims the mind is often dull, bare and vapid." He therefore explains that we need to try, even though it may go against our nature, to perform the laws. He states that "the spirit rests not only on our achievement...but also on our effort, on our way. This is why the very act of going to the house of worship, every day or every seventh day, is a song without words." He compares it to "a child, eager to hear a song," who "spreads out the score before its mother. All the child can do is open the book."

~

I find Heschel's approach to be very interesting, for while he admits the polarity of agada and halakha, he also sees them as intertwined, and believes that existence is meaningless and dull if one has only one but not the other. As my approach is generally more aggadic (I like magic, mystery, beauty, spontaneity, and the like), I find his understanding of halacha helpful, for instead of being coldly rational, it is a kind of preparation for the times of illumination. As someone who really cannot pray unless "touched by the spirit," as he put it, I find his ideas about the value of habit and regularity, and of our trying even if we do not succeed, to be both new to me and valid.

Tahara: The Last Kindness

27 And God created man in His own image, in the image of God created He him; male and female created He them.

~Genesis 1: 27

"As far as the zoological kingdom is concerned, death is not a monstrosity; it simply destroys the functionality of the organism. Human death, however, terminates a personality, an ontological dimension, a spiritual individuality who was self-aware and self-conscious, a personality which was driven by vision and hope, which despaired, rejoiced and grieved, which lived not only in the present moment but in both retrospection and anticipation. In a word, death destroys a world."

-Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Out of the Whirlwind, pages 46-47

*Each person is a world.

In death, a world has been destroyed. Our minds, our personalities, all that we were-it has vanished, utterly disappeared. Only our bodies remain behind.

Judaism has a beautiful approach toward the treatment of the body after death. The Chevra Kadisha, literally 'Holy Society,' oftentimes translated, 'Burial Society' prepare the body for burial through performing a tahara.

But what is a tahara? What is this last act of kindness one performs for the dead? What happens to the body between death and burial? Are these rituals strange? Are they performed respectfully? Can relatives be present? Are they only performed on religious Jews?

These are a sampling of the questions Rochel U. Berman addresses in her fantastic book, Dignity beyond Death: The Jewish Preparation for Burial.

There is great beauty in the final rites performed upon the dead. The idea behind them is one of the utmost respect for the dead, and the desire is to preserve the dignity of the individual. Berman explains the origins of the rites, stating:

It is traditionally believed that God performed the work of the Chevra Kadisha for Moses, who died alone on Zayin Adar, the seventh day of the Hebrew month of Adar. The anniversary of his birth and death has since become a time for reflection and appreciation for what the Chevra does. In Ecclesiastes we read: "As he came, so shall he go." Just as newborns are washed and dressed as they enter this world, so are the deceased cleansed, purified and dressed as they depart.

Written around the third century, Mishna Shabbat makes reference to washing and annointing the deceased. Many today feel that this practice is only for the "Orthodox," but it is a long established tradition that tahara is the right of every Jewish person; man, woman, adult, child, observant and non-observant, as well as a convert. [emph mine.] (34)

All Jews have the right to be purified before God.

Burial is a tremendously important part of life in the Jewish religion. Berman explains that the Talmud, in Moed Katan 27b "states that when someone passes away in a city, nobody in the city is permitted to engage in work until the person is buried." However, she clarifies, "this restriction is lifted if the city has designated a burial society" (34). Hence the establishment of the Chevra Kadisha.

The Chevra Kadisha can be based around a shul or synagogue, a particular community, or may be even more wide-ranging. People may volunteer to serve, and may be given a Training Manual to accustom themselves to what will happen during the tahara or may learn through experience and observation, initially being assigned smaller tasks and later on, more physical ones. Depending on the community, Chevra Kadisha members may be preferred to be older rather than younger, and/ or married.

What happens during a tahara?

(The following are direct quotes from pages 215-217 in the work. I feel justified in using these quotes as I believe the desire of the author is to inform more people of the special beauty of this practice, and having these excerpts available on an online forum will serve to explain the ritual in an understandable format, in addition to pointing interested parties toward the author's work.)

1. PRAYER- Throughout the tahara, special prayers are recited that relate to the tasks of preparing the body. These prayers draw uon the Torah, Prophets and the Song of Songs. At several points, they refer to the deceased by his or her Hebrew name, and that of his or her father. For this reason, it is important to provide the funeral chapel with these names, if they are known. In the opening prayer, before the tahara begins the deceased is introduced to God:

Master of the universe! Have compassion for _________, son/ daughter of _______, this deceased, for he/ she is a descendant of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, your servants...Through mercy, hide and disregard the transgression of this departed, Your servant...May he/ she tread with righteous feet into the Garden of Eden, for that is the place of the upright, and God protects the pious. (215)

2. WASHING AND PURIFICATION- The deceased is washed and dried. Fingernails and toenails are cleaned, and jewelry, identification tags, bandages etc. are removed. After being washed, the deceased is ritually purified through immersion in running water. This is similar to the mikvah, or purification bath, that was required of worshippers entering the Temple of Jerusalem. If the funeral chapel does not have a mikvah pool, the purification requires a cascade of water to be poured over the body. (216)

3. DRESSING- When the body has been rendered ritually clean, it is carefully dressed in special clothing called tachrichim, shrouds of white linen. The same shrouds are used for all taharas, in recognition of the equality of all before God. The tachrichim used for both men and women consist of a head covering, shirt, trousers, coat and belt. They are patterned after the outfit worn by the High Priest in the Holy Temple on Yom Kippur. The tachrichim are hand-sewn, and have no pockets, signifying that the deceased carries no worldly goods to the grave.

After a man has been dressed in the shrouds, his tallit, prayer shawl, is placed around his shoulders. If possible, family should bring this tallit to the funeral chapel. If not, one will be provided.

4. THE CASKET- Jewish law requires that the body be allowed to return to the earth as speedily as possible: "For dust thou art and to dust you shall return" (Gen. III, 19). Therefore, the casket must be made entirely of wood, with a few holes in the bottom to hasten the body's natural decomposition. In keeping with the concept of equality in death, the simplest wood casket is most appropriate.

When the body is settled in the casket, shards of pottery are placed on the eyes and mouth as a symbolic reminder of human frailty. Soil from Israel is sprinkled in the casket and over the shrouded body, a concrete connection with the land of our ancestors. The deceased is wrapped in a large linen sheet and the casket is closed. Before closing the casket, the tahara team addresses the deceased as follows:

_________, son/ daughter of _________, we ask forgiveness of you if we did not treat you respectfully, but we acted in accordance with our custom. May you be an advocate for all of Israel. Go in peace, rest in peace, and arise in your turn at the end of days.

The casket is then closed and each person on the team offers a silent personal prayer for the departed.

The closed casket should not be reopened. It is considered disrespectful and undignified to disturb the preparations that have been made by the Chevra Kadisha, and therefore the practice of viewing the deceased is forbidden by Jewish law.

[This is the end of the tahara.]

5. BURIAL- Finally, the body in a wood casket is taken to the cemetary for burial. [...] Jewish law requires burial as soon as possible after death to facilitate the immediate beginning of its return to earth. For this reason, above-ground mausoleums are prohibited. In accordance with Jewish law, the body is buried in the earth, with family and friends participating in the final rite of filling in the grave.

What kind of garments make up the shrouds?

1. Mitznefet- Women's Head Covering
2. Michansayim- Trousers
3. K'tonet- Shirt
4. Kittel- Jacket
5. Tallit and Mitznefet- Prayer Shawl and Men's Head Covering
6. Assorted Ties

The coffin itself contains a sovev and avnet- sheet and belt- in addition to a straw-filled pillow. The head of the deceased rests on the pillow.

Is there a time when we do not perform a tahara?

Yes. When a Jew dies al kiddush Hashem, to sanctify God's name, we do not perform a tahara upon his body. As Motti, a member of the Chevra Kadisha of ZAKA (an organization established in 1989 to identify disaster and terrorist victims) states:

We collect every drop of blood and the smallest piece of a body. Every time a blood vessel bursts, there is a cascade of blood. We have special materials that help us absorb this blood for burial.

If we know for certain to whom the blood and the body parts belong, we put them all together in a plastic bag for burial. When there is blood commingled from a number of deceased victims, then it is buried in one of the existing graves of in a separate grave called kever achim, the "grave of our brothers." A tahara is not performed on any person who is slaughtered because he/ she is a Jew. Those who lose their lives in terrorists attacks and Israeli soldiers who die in combat are buried with their blood and their blood stained clothes. (142)

Why is this so? The idea is that one comes before God to be judged. The tahara generally purifies the person and the body, preparing him to come before God clean and pure. But the one who comes before God after having died al kiddush Hashem wears his bloody garments as though to say, "See?! Look well and account for this merit of mine; I died for the sanctification of Your name!"

There are also times when it becomes difficult to perform the complete tahara because of medical difficulties. In these cases, the members of the tahara team perform as much of the tahara as possible.

How long does a tahara generally take?

Anywhere from forty-five minutes to an hour in most cases. However, at times there can be complications or difficulties, so the time is extended.

Who performs the tahara?

Men generally perform the tahara for men, and women perform the tahara for women.

~

Now that we have focused upon the actual outline of a tahara, we can consider the people who actually take the time out of their busy lives to drop everything, rearrange their schedules, and go off to perform these last rites upon the deceased.

Who are these people? What are their stories? Why are they drawn to this, to the purification of the dead?

Berman discusses the varied reasons people are drawn to become members of the Chevra Kadisha, stating that there are four main ones:

1. Response to Communal Need
2. Response to the Death of a Family-Member or Friend
3. Family History of Participation
4. Suggestion of a Friend or Family Member

Performing a tahara allows a person to come to grips with their own mortality, giving him a new understanding of the fragility and tragic loveliness that encompasses an individual's life. It allows us to say goodbye to others who have died or passed away; through treating this fellow person with dignity and the utmost compassion, one is able to feel a sense of connection to their own loved ones, even if they have passed on. It gives the members of the tahara team a chance to bond with one another; in the silence interrupted only by prayers or minimal speech relating to the work of the tahara, one has the opportunity to reflect upon the life of the man or woman lying there, and perhaps upon one's own life.

A New York trial lawyer offered the following: "After my first tahara, which was in the morning, I got on the subway to go to my office. It was a very crowded train and I found that my mindset was vastly different from what it usually was. I didn't object to the crowds which usually irritate me. I found myself looking into each person's face and thinking about the split-second difference between life and death. I was so happy to be in a throng of live people. The crush of humanity was exhilirating. It felt good to breathe in all its messy splendor!" (95)

There is the physician who states that, "When I do a tahara, it's metaphorically an extension of the care I provide my patients. It brings it full cycle and there is a sense of closure to it" (96). Another person likened the experience to allowing the dead man's "soul to pass through a veil, leaving behind it all the sorrow and suffering of his final days" (95).

People who participate in these final rites for the dead speak of it movingly and powerfully. They could be anyone, everyone. As Berman writes, the construction worker and the corporate lawyer may work together on a tahara team, moving the body, cleaning the nailpolish from the dead woman's fingernails, cutting off tubes protruding from the skin (or removing them, if possible to do so without causing further bleeding) and the like. No matter one's job or position, we are all equal before God, and there is no more moving place to realize this than within the quiet room, looking upon the dead figure.

Steve, who is with a midwest Chevra, says, "I find that my mind rarely wanders. I'm very focused on the tasks at hand because here is a dead person in front of me, a person whose life on earth is over. I ruminate about the different life experiences he may have had and the people he may have met. There is a sense of awe that overcomes me. We have before us not only the person's remains, but the totality of who he was. Tahara is a very physical act and when I do things that are physical, I'm always very focused." (94)

They are ordinary people. They give up their time; they prepare the dead to stand before God, but they are ordinary. You know them. You see them at shul, in the supermarket, good people leading lives as best they can. But within that room, they become something more than ordinary; their true essence is expressed in a deeply feeling, compassionate, kind way. They stand beside the dead and they treat him with utter kindness. Loving-kindness, hesed shel emes. This is the last kindness, the kindness for the dead.

I find this to be truly amazing, absolutely extraordinary. These people obviously have the capacity to love and to give in ways that I hope to emulate in the future. They are not recognized for what they do, but that is not its purpose. They aim to find "satisfaction of the soul." Nevertheless, on behalf of all of us, we owe a tremendous debt and extend our gratitude to the tahara volunteers and Chevra Kadishas throughout the entire world.

Please realize that I have not touched the merest part of what Rochel Berman manages to relate in her book. It is a fantastic book. She herself has performed hundreds of taharas, if not more, and she has sections in her work relating to the Holocaust, personal identity, variations in ritual procedures with regard to the Tahara, the people who participate, what it is really like (how to dress), difficult taharas, medical complications, quotes from others (many others), and her entire approach is comprehensible, interesting, and very easily understandable. I now have an understanding of what happens to the body after death, and it is immensely comforting.

How wondrous is God! And how wondrous his people!

Made Up, the Stern Play

Stern is having a play!

The name of the play is...

So, if you're looking for cults, guns, internal crises, the lure of power, money, fame, and various assorted neuroses paraded for your viewing pleasure...you've come to the right place. Affectatious snobs, elitists and sweethearts comingle in this outstanding drama!

Well...that's a bit hopeful. But why not? False advertising! That's the way to go! Yellow journalism! Sensationalism! Make it sexy! Make it exciting! Draw in the crowds!

ANYWAY...the play's on March 18, 19 and 20.

Tickets are $5 now, and $7 at the door. If you're going to both YU and Stern's productions, you can get two tickets for the unbelievable price of $7!!!

"MADE UP"
When: March 18th,19th, and 20th
Where: Midtown's Schottenstein Cultural Center
Time: 8 pm nightly
Audience: coed

If you'd rather make reservations and pick your tickets up at the door...email them at sterndramasociety@hotmail.com for reservations now!

Madama Butterfly

Beautiful woman, lit by flames of suffering;
she is devoured by dusk.
And offered to the night on the head of a pin,
Her crushed wings flutter, and are silent...

Dazzling Madama Butterfly! Grace, delicacy, tenderness and beauty all in one supreme figure, uplifted by her love. She is unwilling to brook any doubts, fierce in her faith, assured in her devotion, passionate in her every action and word. Her movements are exquisite and betray her depth of feeling, while her words are poetic, touched by the magic of her voice. Her sorrow adds her dignity; her naivete is touching, but her moment of realization terrifies! Unhappy, unhappy woman!

There's so much of this opera that speaks to the heart, but these are the parts that I love best:

(FROM ACT I)

The conversation between Pinkerton and Sharpless, but specifically:

Sharpless:

[seriously and kindly]

The other day, she came up
to call at the Consulate!
I did not see her, but I heard her speak.
And the mystery of her
voice touched my very soul.
Surely, love that is pure
and true, speaks like that.
It were indeed sad pity
to tear those dainty wings,
and perchance to torment a trusting heart. [emph. mine]

(And then Madame Butterfly's beautiful plea to Pinkerton)

Butterfly:

They say that in your country
If a butterfly
[with an expression of fear]
is caught by man,
He'll pierce its heart with a needle
[with anguish] And then leave it to perish!

Pinkerton:

[taking her hands again gently, and smiling]

Some truth there is in that,
And can you tell me why?
That you may not escape.
[with ardour and embracing her affectionately]
See, I have caught you...
I hold you as you flutter.
Be mine.

(FROM ACT III)

All of Act III is brilliant, but most beautiful is Madama Butterfly's farewell song to her child (Tu, tu, piccolo Iddio)

Butterfly:

You? you? you? you? you? you? you?
Beloved Idol!
Ador'd, adorèd being,
Fairest flower of beauty.
[taking the child's head in her hands, she draws it to her]
Though you ne'er must know it
`Tis for you, my love, for you I'm
dying, Poor Butterfly
That you may go away
Beyond the ocean,
Never to feel the torment when you are older,
That your mother forsook you!
[exaltedly]
My son, sent to me from Heaven,
Straight from the throne of glory,
Take one last and careful
look At your poor mother's face!
That its memory may linger,
One last look!
Farewell, beloved! Farewell, my dearest heart!
Go, play, play.

The part that made me cry were the lines starting from, "My son, sent to me from Heaven."

O a me, sceso dal trono
dell'alto Paradiso,
guarda ben fiso, fiso
di tua madre la faccia!...
che te'n resti una traccia,
guarda ben!
Amore, addio! addio! piccolo amor!
Va. Gioca, gioca.

(All quotes are taken from Columbia University's brilliant online translation: Act I, Act II, Act III)

The Stern Honors Program paid for the tickets, and we saw the performance at the New York State Theater in Lincoln Center. Angela Maria Blasi starred in the title role (and was outstanding.)

So dainty and ethereal a butterfly ought never to suffer as she did. But her sorrow herself transforms her, and lends her a power and a kind of luminescence that casts her as a sublime, transcendent being rather than a mere mortal, her sadness a portal to a higher sphere. And her last act...a condemnation, even though she yet loves! There is no more innocence; the illusions have been shattered. But her pride and her dignity remain; they are there in the blindfold and the thin white scarf!

Shackled Minds and Jewish Studies

I read Jeremy Stern's latest article in The Commentator, entitled "Sexism and Jewish Studies," with great interest.

His point? Yeshiva University appears to have expanded its academic approach to the Bible, utilizing modern sources, contemporary scholars, source criticism and biblical criticism. Stern, on the other hand, appears to be lagging behind, advocating for the traditional approach of utilizing medieval scholarly commentaries to the exclusion of more modern techniques.

He writes:

It is time for Stern - its students and its administrators - to realize that the traditional study of Jewish texts does contend with other academic pursuits such as psychology or English literature. Rabbi Dr. Efraim Kanarfogel, who chairs the Stern Jewish Studies department and is a well respected academic and an exemplar of Torah u-Madda, has recently promoted more rigorous course offerings. However, it seems that other university administrators who impact Stern's academic nature have yet to realize this critical distinction, holding the women's college back from proceeding to greater heights.

The Stern student body has been complacently silent on this issue. It is time for them to speak up, because it is they, first and foremost, who are losing out. The administration's inaction to advance Stern's academic Jewish Studies gives the women of Stern no right to follow submissively.

Ah! How I agree with him.

However, I think he may have an overly rosy view of what my fellow Stern students desire out of their education.

It is my unfortunate belief that many Stern students, perhaps even the majority of them, do not want a rigorous academic approach to the Bible.

I believe that they find the idea of such an approach to be scary. It is frightening; it borders upon heresy. It leads into the unknown. Perhaps they'll end up abandoning God. Perhaps they'll end up doubting ideas that were at one point firmly established in their minds, pounded there by ever-determined teachers. Perhaps they'll end up...thinking?

I find myself in a very strange position at Stern. On the one hand, I enjoy Judaic Studies enough to be able to be part of the more right-wing group, the ones who are knowledgeable in different textual sources and commentaries. On the other hand, my approach to life allows me to attend movies or read books that frighten or disturb members of that sect, which means I can at times cross over to the left-wing group. At this point in time, I have been fortunate to meet four or five others in a similar position to myself, but I do not think it is the norm. I may be mistaken. In fact, I hope to be mistaken.

The few courses that we have now come under attack, and Jeremy hopes to allow more of them? Dr. David Shatz taught a philosophy course in Science and Religion, I believe (not the one he's teaching this semester, but formerly), and apparently caused much outrage. I hear English class being referred to as Avodah Zara class. I hear people yammer on and on about the kefirah in their psychology class. And I notice that even in Rabbi Mordechai Cohen's Honors class, where he brilliantly presents the advantages to understanding source criticism, citing Rabbi Mordechai Breuer's approach, not everyone is enamored...

First comes understanding, and then comes desire. Before my fellow students could ever desire such courses, they would need to understand why they are not wrong or problematic, which means that one would have to make a speech, or give a course, proving that idea from the medieval sources that they trust. This is how all persuasion works with such people: one must prove this from the sources they do accept. Once one has successfully accomplished that, perhaps then we can get to the point where people want the more advanced, thought-provoking courses. I do not think the Stern student body has been "complacently silent" so much as the right-wing students do not want such courses, while the left-wing students do not much care, as their purpose here is generally not (although sometimes it is) to pursue academic Biblical studies.

Everyone is imprisoned by their mind-forged manacles, to cite Blake. We simply do not all share the same prison...or perhaps we have been lucky enough, or have been aided by others, in breaking the chains that bind us. The issue at hand is not one of sexism so much as freeing the mind. Once one has accomplished that, perhaps we can then advance the Judaic Studies department, allowing people to feel unthreatened by the worlds of interpretation open to us through assorted biblical scholars, or even through reading the text as one would literature. These approaches, novel as they may be to some, can aid us- if we are able to let them.

The Sin of Compassion

(After all, if R' Meir Yaakov Soloveichik can entitle his article The Virtue of Hate then surely I can write about The Sin of Compassion! *smile*)

באותה שעה, אמר דוד: ג' מתנות נתן הקב"ה לישראל: רחמנין, וביישנין, וגומלי חסדים.

רחמנין? דכתיב (דברים יג): ונתן לך רחמים ורחמך והרבך.

~Midrash Rabbah to Os Daled in Parshas Nasso

And so the Jews were given three traits: mercy, bashfulness, and the ability to perform acts of kindness. These traits are inherent to the Jew; it is in his nature, we are informed, to be merciful and compassionate. This is even considered a gift from God.

And yet, we find that compassion is not always a good trait. There are times when characters in the Bible are rebuked for their mercy and compassion, where their compassion is regarded as a failing, a flaw, and in the worst case scenario, a sin. If it is not a sin in and of itself, it leads to sin, defiance of God in the name of mercy.

Where does this occur? How can compassion ever be considered a vice, a flaw, a failing, a sin? In the ideal world, would we not all act mercifully, with kindness and compassion toward one another? And yet the Bible tells us differently.

Consider Moses. Moses is the epitome of the empath, the one who, despite the fact that he was a prince, raised amidst grandeur and great spectacle, felt himself to be a Hebrew, enslaved as they were. Moses kills a fellow Egyptian to help a Hebrew slave, and then he is backstabbed by this very slave, according to Aggadata, for he was no other than Dasan himself. Yet more moving is the tale told of Moses' compassion upon a tiny infant, a mere baby, crushed between the bricks. Moses, astounded by the baby's fate, wishes to save him. A conversation with God ensues, in which God warns Moses that the child will grow up to be wicked. Moses, however, perhaps relying on the argument advanced by God himself in the case of Ishmael, that the child is not yet wicked, determines to save the baby. God grants his reluctant blessing upon the endeavor.

The story is footnoted in Sanhedrin 101b.

According to legend, when the Israelites in Egypt did not complete their tale of bricks, their children were built into the walls instead. On Moses' complaining thereof to God, He answered him that he was thus weeding out the destined wicked. As proof, he was empowered to save Micah, who had already been built in, but only to become an idolater on his reaching manhood. Rashi also gives an alternative rendering: he became impoverished (Cf. Lev XXV, 25; XXVII, 8) through building — presumably his idolatrous shrine.

Moses means well and thinks to do something good, something kind. He wishes to save an innocent baby. Yet his compassion upon the infant leads to the grown man's idolatry, while some even claim this child became the person who threw the golden tablet with the words 'Arise, Ox' into the fire, causing the golden calf. Moses' compassion indirectly leads to the Golden Calf, in that case.

Moses' pupil, Joshua, follows in his footsteps. When confronted by a band of wandering, rag-tag, weary travelers, Joshua and the Jews respond by forming a covenant with them, a covenant unsanctioned by God, whose advice the people did not think to ask. Their initial mercy and compassion upon the unthreatening individuals, who so sadly proclaimed that they had been sent to ask for peace and kindness, stating that

יב זֶה לַחְמֵנוּ, חָם הִצְטַיַּדְנוּ אֹתוֹ מִבָּתֵּינוּ, בְּיוֹם צֵאתֵנוּ, לָלֶכֶת אֲלֵיכֶם; וְעַתָּה הִנֵּה יָבֵשׁ, וְהָיָה נִקֻּדִים.
12 This our bread we took hot for our provision out of our houses on the day we came forth to go unto you; but now, behold, it is dry, and is become crumbs.

יג וְאֵלֶּה נֹאדוֹת הַיַּיִן אֲשֶׁר מִלֵּאנוּ חֲדָשִׁים, וְהִנֵּה הִתְבַּקָּעוּ; וְאֵלֶּה שַׂלְמוֹתֵינוּ, וּנְעָלֵינוּ, בָּלוּ, מֵרֹב הַדֶּרֶךְ מְאֹד.
13 And these wine-skins, which we filled, were new; and, behold, they are rent. And these our garments and our shoes are worn by reason of the very long journey.'

Joshua 9: 12

caused their downfall. While the Giveonim were not in and of themselves bad, per se, they caused many complications and problems for Israel. Their status was problematic, their trickery held against them, their positions assigned. Later on, different kings had cause to rue the day they had accepted this covenant.

The sin of compassion is demonstrated most unfortunately in the case of Saul. King Saul is told to war with the Amalekites and to kill them all, man, woman, child, cattle and sheep. Yet the verses clearly state (and here they even mention that the cause was the mistaken pity/ mercy toward the Amalekites) that:

ט וַיַּחְמֹל שָׁאוּל וְהָעָם עַל-אֲגָג, וְעַל-מֵיטַב הַצֹּאן וְהַבָּקָר וְהַמִּשְׁנִים וְעַל-הַכָּרִים וְעַל-כָּל-הַטּוֹב, וְלֹא אָבוּ, הַחֲרִימָם; וְכָל-הַמְּלָאכָה נְמִבְזָה וְנָמֵס, אֹתָהּ הֶחֱרִימוּ. {פ}

9 But Saul and the people spared Agag, and the best of the sheep, and of the oxen, even the young of the second birth, and the lambs, and all that was good, and would not utterly destroy them; but every thing that was of no account and feeble, that they destroyed utterly. {P}

Samuel I 15: 9

The word "vayachamol," here translated as "spared," can also be interepreted as "had pity upon." Saul and his people had pity upon the seemingly weak, unthreatening Agag and the remnants of his destroyed people.

Because of this, Saul loses his kingdom, is severely punished because of his streak of kindness and compassion. This seems wholly unfair.

The rule on a whole is perhaps best illustrated in one of the Tales of King Solomon.

The Man and the Snake

A Man, who was carrying a vessel full of milk, in a field campe upon a Snake which was crying out piteously. When he asked her why she so cried out she replied, 'I am consumed with a burning thirst. What hast thou there?' He answered, 'Milk.' The Snake said, 'Give me to drink, and in return I will show thee a great treasure.' As soon as she had drunk her fill, she led him to a place where a large stone lay, and when he had rolled this on one side he uncovered a great treasure, which he seized. Immediately she sprang upon him, and coiled herself around his neck. He asked, 'What does this mean?' She replied, 'I will slay thee, because thou has stolen all my gold!' The man said, 'Let us go before King Solomon, and he will speedily show which of us is in the right.' And the Snake was content.

When they came before Solomon's judgement-seat the Man accused the Snake. But she defended herself, saying, 'I will kill him, for it is written, And thou shalt bruise the heel of the man.

"Thou art quite right," said the King, "but first of all release thy hold of the man. You are both now standing before the judge, and before judgement has been given none of the litigants should hold fast the other party and thus enjoy an advantage."

The snake obeyed, released its hold upon the man, and uncoiling itself from the man's neck, glided down.

Thereupon King Solomon said unto the snake, "Now explain thy case and what it is thou dost want of the man." The snake repeated its words, "I want to kill this man because Scripture commands me to do it."

Thereupon Solomon turned to the man and said, "And thou, too, the Lord commanded to 'bruise the head of the snake; why dost thou not do it? The man immediately raised his foot and crushed the snake's head.'

~Google Print on Tales from King Solomon

This story holds the answer to our confused question- why is compassion wrong? As the story avows, compassion is not wrong on a whole. The only time compassion is wrong is when it directly contradicts a directive of God, or where one has not bothered to consult God. In the case of Saul, this is made very clear when Samuel states:

כב וַיֹּאמֶר שְׁמוּאֵל, הַחֵפֶץ לַיהוָה בְּעֹלוֹת וּזְבָחִים, כִּשְׁמֹעַ, בְּקוֹל יְהוָה: הִנֵּה שְׁמֹעַ מִזֶּבַח טוֹב, לְהַקְשִׁיב מֵחֵלֶב אֵילִים.

22 And Samuel said: 'Hath the LORD as great delight in burnt-offerings and sacrifices, as in hearkening to the voice of the LORD? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams.

כג כִּי חַטַּאת-קֶסֶם מֶרִי, וְאָוֶן וּתְרָפִים הַפְצַר: יַעַן, מָאַסְתָּ אֶת-דְּבַר יְהוָה, וַיִּמְאָסְךָ, מִמֶּלֶךְ. {ס}

23 For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as idolatry and teraphim. Because thou hast rejected the word of the LORD, He hath also rejected thee from being king.' {S}

Obedience to God overrides the inherent desire and will to act compassionately toward man. The same is true in the case of Moses and Micha; God explains to Moses that Micha is one of the wicked, but Moses refuses to believe it. God allows Moses to save Micha as an experiment; obviously this works out disastrously.

The Giveonim, I believe, are a lesser case because the Jews are not going against an explicit command of God so much as not inquiring as to His Will. This is why the Giveonim are still accepted into the Jewish people, albeit retaining a lesser status. There is no rebellion involved here, merely oversight.

The man in Tales of King Solomon decided to override the directive of God that states that there is eternal enmity between mankind and the serpent.

טו וְאֵיבָה אָשִׁית, בֵּינְךָ וּבֵין הָאִשָּׁה, וּבֵין זַרְעֲךָ, וּבֵין זַרְעָהּ: הוּא יְשׁוּפְךָ רֹאשׁ, וְאַתָּה תְּשׁוּפֶנּוּ עָקֵב. {ס}

15 And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; they shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise their heel.' {S}

This man attempted to act peacefully toward the snake, disregarding the statement that claims that he is to "bruise" the snake's head. He learned his error, to his cost. His compassion was misguided because it conflicted with God's absolute directive or command.

I would suggest, then, that the sin of compassion (or the fact that compassion leads to error or sin) is based only in particulars. If one is explicitly commanded something and one chooses to ignore it in favor of mercy or compassion, one is held accountable and guilty, for man must obey his Creator. The grand majority of the time, however, compassion and mercy are wonderful qualities that we should strive to attain.

This was Saul's flaw, then. His compassion in the face of God's absolute directive was considered wrong, a form of rebellion and a sin. However, the rest of the time he is supposed to be compassionate, which is why he is still held accountable for his actions at Nov toward the priests.

This resolves the seeming contradiction that would arise otherwise- for otherwise, how could Saul possibly be rebuked for lack of compassion at Nov when killing the Kohanim and then told his compassion upon Amalek was flawed? The answer lies within the idea of command; when God commands, one cannot choose to be kind, even if one would wish to do so. When God commands, men become soldiers underneath their General's command. They cannot question orders. Most literally, this occurs by Avshalom. King David, exercising fault judgment, would have allowed his rebellious son to live, even though this would constitute a threat to him. Joab was the merciless general who ordered the execution, and in terms of tactical strategy, it was the right command.

There is a time for all things. And sometimes the time demands the obedient man, even when the orders require him to be both merciless and ruthless, even when these qualities and traits go against his very nature.

Perhaps humanity is preserved in our very desire to question the orders. We do not want to kill out all of Amalek. We do not want to sentence a baby to death, crushed between the bricks. The fact that we do not want to evidences our humanity. The fact that we do it anyway is our sacrifice to God. Abraham offered up his son, but the sacrifice was not necessarily fulfilled. In following God's orders, in killing the Amalekites or refusing to aid the snake, we sacrifice a part of our soul, dying a little bit each time we must act so contrary to our own nature.

But because we believe in the greater whole, and God's greatness, we must accede.

This is probably the hardest thing anyone could ever be asked to do, as I think it is inherent to man to hate the idea of submission, obedience or any kind of yoke. This is especially stressed in modern man's approach to life. And so I do not like those who dismiss Saul and claim that he was foolish to have disobeyed God. He was following his conscience, which is generally a very noble thing to do. The only problem was, this was the time of sacrifice.

Bigsan, Seresh, and The Count of Monte Cristo

Having read this fantastic midrash, I instantaneously thought of The Count of Monte Cristo.

Here's the midrash.

The conspirators got wind of their betrayal to the king, and in good time they removed the poison they had already placed in Ahasuerus's cup. But that the lie might not be given to Mordecai, God caused poison to appear where none had been, and the conspirators were convicted of their crime. The king had the water analyzed which he was given to drink and it was made manifest that it contained poison. (Legends of the Jews, volume 2, page 1145)

So even though they had removed all traces of their crime, God caused the poison to manifest. Better yet, the two tried to evade punishment through suicide, but were hanged instead.

Now, look to The Count of Monte Cristo.

Just then, Madame de Villefort, in the act of slipping on her dressing-gown, threw aside the drapery and for a moment stood motionless, as though interrogating the occupants of the room, while she endeavored to call up some rebellious tears. On a sudden she stepped, or rather bounded, with outstretched arms, towards the table. She saw d'Avrigny curiously examining the glass, which she felt certain of having emptied during the night. It was now a third full, just as it was when she threw the contents into the ashes. The spectre of Valentine rising before the poisoner would have alarmed her less. It was, indeed, the same color as the draught she had poured into the glass, and which Valentine had drank; it was indeed the poison, which could not deceive M. d'Avrigny, which he now examined so closely; it was doubtless a miracle from heaven, that, notwithstanding her precautions, there should be some trace, some proof remaining to reveal the crime. (emph. mine) While Madame de Villefort remained rooted to the spot like a statue of terror, and Villefort, with his head hidden in the bedclothes, saw nothing around him, d'Avrigny approached the window, that he might the better examine the contents of the glass, and dipping the tip of his finger in, tasted it. "Ah," he exclaimed, "it is no longer brucine that is used; let me see what it is!"

Then he ran to one of the cupboards in Valentine's room, which had been transformed into a medicine closet, and taking from its silver case a small bottle of nitric acid, dropped a little of it into the liquor, which immediately changed to a blood-red color. "Ah," exclaimed d'Avrigny, in a voice in which the horror of a judge unveiling the truth was mingled with the delight of a student making a discovery. Madame de Villefort was overpowered, her eyes first flashed and then swam, she staggered towards the door and disappeared.

~Source

Oh, and interestingly, Madame de Villefort is given the choice between the scaffold and suicide, and chooses suicide.

Alexandre Dumas was on to something, wasn't he? Of course, it's the Count who plants the poison, but even so...

An Idyllic Day

The light streams through the thin white curtains behind me, adding gold tints to my hair and playing upon my face.

Thinking, I realize that the only thing I really want at this exact moment at time is to be at home on a summer's day with a container of colored chalk, a bottle of bubble-making soapy liquid, my bicycle and my family.

I'd draw pictures and we'd play hopscotch. Colorful pictures to illuminate the sidewalk and give it meaning, messages to the world at large, read by passerby and the glowing green leaves. Laughter as we race each other on our bikes. The smoky smell of a barbecue.

Summer in its health and vivid beauty.

I wish they had parks for grown-ups. You know, large parks with larger slides and monkey bars and a high captain's ship. Or I wish health facilities looked prettier, not all metallic and sleek and black-and-white but gorgeous and colorful and beautiful. I bet I could do a study on it, relating exercise to one's surroundings. If I were given a park suitable to my size, with swings and slides and paths to run through and follow, versus being placed in a sterile environment with the "human hamsters," as my tour-guide called them, where would I exercise most?

The only problem would be to prevent little kids from going into the grown-up parks, because they could hurt themselves. Maybe there'd have to be someone at the entrance of the park, then...a guard or someone like that. It's strange that we have water-slides and water-parks intended for teens to grownups, and yet no real parks of that nature. I want to play on a swing without having to wait for all the other kids to have their turn, and I'd really like a grown-up park.

Especially in our world, where everyone complains about how adults don't get enough exercise...if you made a colorful, appealing grown-up park, made it free (or at least, you'd pay taxes for it, but you wouldn't have to subscribe to it), put it in a very public place (to discourage gangs congregating there, though it'd probably still happen), well, I'm betting you'd have loads more healthy adults. On the way to work, you could stop off at the adult park and take a turn or two on the monkey bars, or during lunch-break, you could go down the slide...come on, don't you think people would be far happier and far healthier if we had grown-up parks?

Though I'd even settle for a kid's park...if I knew where the closest one was in Manhattan. A real park, with swings and such. Swings and slides are the essence of a park; all else is immaterial.

Give me color and happy people, give me an adult park, and the world could be much improved. We have adult ice-skating rinks, sometimes for free (Bryant Park) with lockers for all our accessories. Sure, they are monitored; maybe we'd have to monitor the adult park. But why don't we have them? Perhaps there should be a law that all workplaces should have them. How much fun would that be? During lunch break, these guys could take off their suitjackets and swing along the monkey bars.

To me, it's a happy rather than a ridiculous image. It's how the world could be...maybe.

Happy Purim!

Let's just say I don't have a future in histology.

Tissues laugh at my efforts to differentiate between them. I have the power to declare skeletal cardic, cardiac skeletal, and areolar cardiac. I use this power well...

Let us also take the time to remark upon my significantly painful and purpling index finger on my left hand. Let us be saddened over this finger's encounter with a particularly menacing garbage can today.

Let us then look down at my untied black combat boots and curse them under our breath. These boots have failed me. Today they allowed me to slip down six steps, the phone in my hand spinning out of control and dazedly landing against the wall as I slammed onto the floor, lying on my backpack. *insert expletive here* Tears came to my eyes and two concerned girls rushed over. I assured them it was only my pride that had been wounded, but I now have a protesting shoulder to match my wounded finger.

Am I clumsy or just accident-prone, we wonder? And we continue wondering.

Let us also now provide, for the reader's benefit, a significantly entertaining conversation from this morning.

Girl: So I have to memorize all the names of the Greek goddesses and what they all do for Avodah Zarah class.

(droning in the background)

Chana: (swivels around) There's an Avodah Zarah class? Who teaches it? That sounds so cool! So you're learning all about the different types?

Girl: Actually, I meant English Literature.

*insert Chana's unforgiving expression*

Now, for all those of you who want a good read by an excellent friend of mine (I wonder if it's a compliment or an insult to her if I say she's more to the right than I am- I'll assume that for this gang, it's a compliment,) I direct you to Meanderations. Keep this one on your list, folks. It'll be worth it. I have decided.

Now, down to business. What are you dressing up as for Purim? Fun plans? Am I going to see you? (No, I'm not giving out where I'll be...)

Happy Purim, everyone!

The Cruel Charity: Merit over Need

ה כִּי-תִרְאֶה חֲמוֹר שֹׂנַאֲךָ, רֹבֵץ תַּחַת מַשָּׂאוֹ, וְחָדַלְתָּ, מֵעֲזֹב לוֹ--עָזֹב תַּעֲזֹב, עִמּוֹ.

5 If thou see the ass of him that hateth thee lying under its burden, thou shalt forbear to pass by him; thou shalt surely release it with him. {S}

~Exodus 23: 5

There is a homeless man who lives outside of the Duane Reade right next to Brookdale.

He's a nice enough fellow. He's cheerful, charismatic, jovial, makes people's days. He banters, makes polite conversation, is relatively sweet. He can be quite hilarious. You give him money and he breaks out into hallelujahs. Depending on your religion, he praises your God. If you're Jewish, it's Jehovah. If you're Christian, it's Jesus. That's how he operates.

The first couple times I saw him, I gave him money- a dollar, some change, whatever it may have been. But I refuse to give him money anymore.

So I was sitting in someone's room when her roommate, an extremely good-hearted and noble individual entered the room, seeming pleased with herself, and informed us that she and her friends had bought the man lunch. They felt that they had done a good deed, a mitzvah, were good Jews. I was slightly taken aback by how pleased they were, and the intimation that as Jews we are supposed to not only buy food for this man but give him money, and said something like, "I guess I take the Ayn Randian approach."

And that is what lead to an extremely heated discussion in which I am, apparently, cruel.

This is what Ayn Rand writes (in shortened version.) This is specifically brought up in Atlas Shrugged, but since I do not have the book in front of me, this is the shortened version.

There is such a thing as the deserving and the undeserving poor. And on a whole, we give to the deserving poor. What does that mean?

In effect, this is the speech regarding ideals and this is the money speech.

In very simplistic terms, Ayn Rand says that one helps out those that deserve help. A man who is down on his luck, who is trying his hardest to get a job but who is unsuccessful, a man who is searching and trying and working but failing through no fault of his own, because he has enemies or is discrimated against or has been laid off without cause...such a person is deserving of help. Because such a person is trying. He is trying to work, to produce, to make money. Such a person has his dignity and self-respect and for him, it is utterly degrading, disheartening and awful to have to beg. He hates it. He would much rather be on his own too feet, supporting himself, and no job is too menial or too low. He simply needs an opportunity, and he is doing his best to create such an opportunity for himself.

Or perhaps there is a system that is in place where no matter how hard the man does try, again, through no fault of his own, he simply cannot find work. Maybe these are the Jews in Nazi Germany, forbidden to work. Maybe there is a war taking place, and opportunities are scarce and rare.

Under these conditions, when the person is trying, of course give him money! Because he is going to put that money to good use, he is going to try to build himself up and get himself into a position where he can earn money and support himself. That is his goal.

But there are a lot of homeless people in New York.

Everyone has a story. Everyone has a reason and some of those reasons are absolutely legitimate. There are people who really were in the Vietnam war, people who have been hurt or abused or are crippled or handicapped or are mentally ill, and they really do have legitimate reasons for not working or trying to earn money. But there are other people as well. And some of those people are scammers and some of them are frauds and some of them are just trying to take advantage of another person's good nature.

And here is what I want to know.

This man, the Duane Reade homeless man, is there very frequently. He could be said to live outside of the Duane Reade near Stern. Every single day he is there with his Diet Coke cup asking for money.

What is to prevent him from getting a job? There are facilities, resources and places for people like him, people who are in good enough health to banter and converse and smile at others, to hold out cups and grin. This is a man who appears to be in good health (notice I say appears; it could be his not) and whose mind certainly seems to be in working order, and yet he spends his life sitting outside a Duane Reade store holding up his cup.

Why should I be obligated to give him money? Why does it fall to me? Why is it a mitzvah to provide this man who ostensibly could be earning money or looking for a job, with sustenance? Is he trying? Is he attempting to be productive?

I say no.

Is that judgmental? Absolutely. But I am a college student, I don't have enough money for everyone, I certainly don't have money for all the homeless people in New York, and there is no way that I am going to give money to a man who appears to have chosen to live his life on people's handouts rather than being productive. Because his only claim upon me is his need. When he holds out that cup, he is claiming, "I need, therefore you should give." But I do not think that is a valid claim. The statement, "I am trying, therefore you should give," in contrast, is.

And that is why, when I see homeless people who are playing musical instruments or challenging bystanders to timed chess games or banging on drums, people who are in some way contributing to society, I will give them money. Because they deserve it! And you're right, perhaps they have chosen to live this way as well. But they are providing a service. They're playing the saxophone or breakdancing in the subway station or selling batteries. The fact is, they are trying. They are doing something.

So the person with whom I was arguing was appalled by my statements. Firstly, I can't know what's going on with a person. Maybe he's actually bipolar and mentally ill and can't hold a job and the only thing he can do is sit outside Duane Reade holding a cup.

Then I offered an example. I said, "What about me? Suppose I put on some ratty old clothes and decided, hey, I, Chana, ignoring all talents and abilities that I have, am going to bum around on the street. I'm going to sit outside Duane Reade with my Diet Coke cup and ask for money and beg. Are you saying that it's a mitzvah to help me?"

"Well, you, Chana, would not last one week on the street. And-and- have you ever tried to beg?"

"No," I said.

"Begging is degrading," she said, and told me a story. She was in Israel and there was this woman with her cart outside a store. She begged for challah for Shabbos, so this girl went and bought her challah. Then she begged for a yartzheit candle, so this girl went and bought it for her. It continued in this fashion until the homeless woman begged for 50 shekels for a taxi.

To me, it seems obvious that this woman was taking advantage of a seminary girl's kindness. But, since the girl I am speaking about is a noble and good individual, she told me that she went and begged for the 50 shekels from other people. On behalf of this woman.

I would never do that.

If this woman needs it so much, then she should beg for it herself. But I? I am going to be recruited into the effort to help a woman I don't even know find money for a taxicab? Why? To do a good deed? Well, tell me, why is this considered a good deed? If you're going to be noble, then be really noble- why spend the fifty shekels here to get her a taxi when you could spend it on food for some other individual?

I believe in helping people who can be helped, who are trying their best, who strive to be productive members of society, who hate the fact that they are in a position where they have to beg. But when someone is so accustomed to it that they don't care at all, they don't seem to have any self-respect, they simply ask anyone and everyone, when they're not even trying, I cannot conceive of any reason that it should be considered a mitzvah to help him.

And that is the idea I brought up and the verse at the top of this post- when the burdens fall from your enemy's donkey, you shall surely help him. But note the last words- you do it with him. And I believe it is Rashi who says that if the man refuses to aid you you have absolutely no obligation to put the packages back all by yourself.

To which the girl I was speaking to responded, "But that's not peshat."

That doesn't mean it isn't a legitimate approach. There is absolutely no reason that it is my responsibility to give money to and care for someone else when they refuse to aid me, when I am not doing it with them but rather for them. In fact, someone who does give them the money or food is only cementing their approach rather than forcing them to work on their own. People have no claim upon me because of their need; if that were the case the whole world could guilt me into giving money to them. They do have a legitimate claim if they are trying their best but for reasons beyond their control, it's not working out.

This need-oriented approach does not work throughout life. I do not get a job because I need it; I get a job because I am talented and skilled and my talents are correct for that job. And I argue it is the same; one does not receive money because they need it; they receive it because they deserve it. In which case, there's really no such thing as "charity," as it were, because you are not giving money to the undeserving, but to the deserving, in which case there is no form of superiority involved. There need be no superiority, pity or condescension, because what you're really saying when you give money is, "I believe in you. I know this is a rough time for you, but I believe that you are trying and you are going to be in a position where you will be able to support yourself and be a productive member of society." You are investing in the person. It is a relationship based on equality; you are helping someone who is truly interested in helping himself.

And that, I would argue, is the true idealism. Not allowing yourself to be taken advantage of, not giving to people who show absolutely no effort or desire to better their lot. No, not this. But supporting those whose efforts you believe in, whose ideas you believe in, supporting those who not only need but who deserve.

You will notice that one of the criteria for judges and leaders it that they be wealthy. There is no crime in having money. There is no shame or guilt in being rich. The question is how one uses one's wealth, what causes they support, which charities and which people.

I am told that this approach is cold, judgmental, unethical, un-Jewish. I am told that I ought to feel it a mitzvah to give to all. I am told that it would have been better had I said, "I don't want to give to this man" rather than giving the reasons I did. And I absolutely agree that I don't know every side to the story. I may be completely wrong. This man may be trying his hardest, maybe somehow he really is looking for a job or he really can't work. I find that immensely hard to believe; at the very least he seems the kind of person who could make an excellent cashier, personable and friendly. Nevertheless, if I tried to delude myself under the auspice of attempting to judge favorably, I could maybe make myself believe that.

But I see no reason to do that. We are given our reason and our intellects, and the way we relate to the world is through them. Rationally speaking, the time this man spends sitting outside Duane Reade with a cup could be spent looking for a job. And it is his choice not to do that. In which case, I certainly don't feel obligated to support him, or to donate to his cause.

The person to whom I was speaking told me that I ought to go over to him and ask him why he doesn't have a job- politely. Or find out his story, before I can judge. I personally don't think I have any responsibility to do that. Why should I be obligated to go up to a homeless man and say, "Please tell me your story and explain to me why you have no job and seem to sit here all day rather than looking for one" (which, by the way, I think is already more cruel because now I'm actively accusing him rather than passively not giving to his cause) before I can determine whether or not to give him money? Maybe it would be a nice thing to do, certainly it'd be nice to hear his story, but I certainly don't see it as my responsibility.

The statement the person to whom I was talking kept on making was, "It's not your place." It's not my place to judge people, to evaluate them and sum them up and determine their worth and productivity level. It's not my place, I am not supposed to do this, and therefore I am supposed to give, to the trumpet-playing homeless man and the one with the cup- alike.

But why isn't it my place? Whose place is it if not mine? How else am I to determine whom to give money to and whom not to? I should simply give to everyone? How come? Why shouldn't there be standards? Why should I forego my right to a rational decision-making process and instead decide that it is their need that determines what I give, rather than their ability and the extent to which they try?

I only have to put the packages back on the donkey with him. It may be a commendable thing to do it all by yourself, but I think it is also a stupid thing to do.

Money demands of you the recognition that men must work for their own benefit, not for their own injury, for their gain, not their loss – the recognition that they are not beasts of burden, born to carry the weight of your misery – that you must offer them values, not wounds – that the common bond among men is not the exchange of suffering, but the exchange of goods. Money demands that you sell, not your weakness to men's stupidity, but your talent to their reason; it demands that you buy, not the shoddiest they offer, but the best your money can find. And when men live by trade – with reason, not force, as their final arbiter – it is the best product that wins, the best performance, then man of best judgment and highest ability – and the degree of a man's productiveness is the degree of his reward. This is the code of existence whose tool and symbol is money. Is this what you consider evil?

~Atlas Shrugged

And if it is, then I am evil.

But I am also- according to the very laws of the Torah, which believe in reward and punishment, this for that, legal structure, responsibility, action and consequence- right.

In fact,

"Tzedakah" is the Hebrew word for the acts that we call "charity" in English: giving aid, assistance, and money to the poor and needy or to other worthy causes. But the nature of tzedakah is very different from the idea of charity. The word "charity" suggests benevolence and generosity, a magnanimous act by the wealthy and powerful for the benefit of the poor and needy. The word "tzedakah" is derived from the Hebrew root Tzade-Dalet-Qof, meaning righteousness, justice, or fairness. In Judaism, giving to the poor is not viewed as a generous, magnanimous act; it is simply an act of justice and righteousness, the performance of a duty, giving the poor their due. (emph. mine)

~Source

Giving the poor their due. Acting out of a sense of justice and righteousness, giving to those who deserve and who merit, not giving merely to those whose only claim is their need.

Also see the Talmud on Tzedaka.

Note this: "The Sages, however, said: If he has the means and does not wish to maintain himself [at his own expense] no one need feel any concern about him." To what, however, is the text, "You shall lend him" to be applied? The Torah employs ordinary phraseology.

וחכ"א יש לו ואינו רוצה להתפרנס אין נזקקין לו ואלא מה אני מקיים תעביטנו דברה תורה כלשון בני אדם

-Ketubot 67b

Someone who has and does not wish to mantain himself- no one need feel any concern about him. This is probably stated referring to money. But tell me, is it any less true when referring to talent and the mind? Someone who has the ability, capacity, talent and skill to support himself in some kind of job but does not wish to- shouldn't the same statement apply? "No one need feel any concern about him."

Perhaps my cruel charity is not so cruel, after all.

Perhaps I am not as evil as I seem.

Volunteers, Outreach Programs and Community Service

I'd like your recommendations, please.

I'm looking to volunteer somewhere in New York. My interest is twofold:

1. Jewish outreach
2. Secular

When it comes to Jewish outreach programs, the only one I ever really heard about was NCSY. I was never involved in it because my impression was that it was merely a hangout/ social scene. I also don't like the idea of conning people into accepting a religion/ becoming more religious. I don't know if there's any program that would really fit my interests, but I would enjoy talking with people who are curious to know more about Judaism from the more logical/ textual side of things rather than desiring mere social interaction. I know that some people set up chavrusas and learn with interested people, but I'm not sure that's what I'd like to do, either. I'm better at teaching people than learning with people. Maybe I'd be best teaching at a Hebrew school or a Sunday school. I'd like to do something hands-on, in any case.

With regard to secular volunteer programs. I'd particularly like:

1. Working with battered women/ abused children
2. Working with children with cancer/ suffering from terminal illnesses

I love children. I'd love to just play with the kids, especially since they're kids who probably don't get to play so often. I love to dress up, I love costumes, I can be rather creative and I can deal with sullen responses. Basically, I can bring fun to people. I don't know if there are any opportunities for me to do anything like that, or if it's even allowed, but it's what I'd like to do. Again, I'd prefer to do something hands-on rather than clerical/ secretarial work.

I'm also just curious. What are soup kitchens like, for instance? Would I want to volunteer there? Any and all recommendations appreciated.

SKILL SET

Working knowledge of basic computer programs + some advanced
Types 100+ WPM
Assertive
Responsible
Imaginative
Teachable
Creative
Determined

PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE

Tutor (Unpaid)
Nursing Home Visitor (80+ hours)
Hurricane Katrina Interim (helped restore a mental health facility opened to house refugees to its previous state/ resorted blankets, toiletries, etc.)
Thrift/ Charity Shop Volunteer (helped customers/clean-up/ organize the store's merchandise)
Kohl's Children's Museum Volunteer (80+ hours)
Anixter Sourcing Specialist (Summer)

So, what can you recommend for/ to me? Any and all recommendations/ ideas would be appreciated. Also, I'd appreciate the input of anyone willing to give their personal experience regarding various organizations/ volunteer agencies. For now, the location is irrevelant so long as it's somewhere in New York. If you happen to know about anything closer to Manhattan, though, that'd be great.

On Caterers, Cochlear Implants and Consideration

She is a person with a beautiful soul.

Long riotous golden curls frame her face. Her bewitching hazel eyes, flecked with green and gold, focus intently upon you, listening as you speak, carefully weighing your words. She is kind, clever, smart, well-traveled. She's been to China, Italy, Rome, Israel and more.

She is a normal person, has any person's interests. She loves Broadway shows. She enjoys conversing with people. She is fascinated by anything that she considers to be "special," different and unique enough to capture her attention.

But she is also different. Because she was born with Usher Syndrome, which in her expresses itself through profound deafness and retinal pigmentosis, meaning "tunnel vision" or center vision; she can see objects directly in her path, but she does not have peripheral vision. She has difficulty with balance as well, meaning that she cannot ice-skate or bike-ride on your regular two-wheeler.

She was born at a very fortunate time in history, however, because, through cochlear implants, she is able to hear to some extent. Cochlear implants are not the same as hearing aids. They require surgery. Their purpose is not to amplify sound, but to "bypass damaged portions of the ear and directly stimulate the auditory nerve."

I didn't know any of this when she invited me for Shabbos. I had been inconsiderate. I had seen her at tables and neglected to include her in the conversation. When she didn't cross a particular street when the light was flashing, I dismissed her, and annoyed at having to wait, muttered under my breath. I was unkind; I didn't think. I knew her through a friend, and I knew that she spoke differently and wore something over one of her ears, but other than that I had no idea as to who she was, what she was like, her personality or her interests. I didn't see her.

Even so, she allowed me to know her. She didn't take offense or hold a grudge because of my uncaring behavior; rather, she invited me over to her house, a darling place that was beautifully furnished and nicely decorated. She introduced me to her parents. Her mother enjoys cooking and is very warm and welcoming. Her father is a clever man.

Have I ever learned so much during one weekend?! I wouldn't know. The discussion during Friday night dinner was fascinating. It began with the rather morbid and macabre topic of the man who had thrown himself across the tracks that day; one of the guests works for the MTA. Did the throw himself onto the tracks? Was he pushed? What about the driver and conductor? The MTA guest explained that in such a situation the driver is generally given a couple days off and then reassigned or reclassified, because running over a person gets to them. Who knows what it does to them? Maybe when they drive again and a person is leaning over to look for the train; they'll have flashbacks...and that could be problematic. Then came the question of salary. Can you dock someone's salary for something like that? Probably not, right; after all, it wasn't his fault...

Then I was given a glimpse into shul politics. Now, I know very little of shul politics. So this discussion (there's an excerpt below) was quite an eye-opener. I learned about how the work in the shul fell to three people, all of whom held separate jobs in real life. But perhaps the most fascinating part of the discussion revolved around the caterer.

The Father: Yes, so the caterer is not paying his rent. Whenever he has a function, he rents the catering hall, puts down the $500, but on a whole he is not paying his rent.

Lady Guest: Yes, our luck with caterers...! There've been three of them, and this is how they've all behaved.

Chana: (astonished) And he is a fine, upstanding Orthodox Jew?

The Father: Yes, yes, he's Orthodox.

Chana: But if he's Orthodox, how in the world can he be renting the catering hall from you and not paying his rent?! That's stealing!

The Father: What's more interesting is the hashgacha...you know, when there's mixed dancing during a function, they remove the hashgacha. You would think that when a man signed on to pay rent and doesn't pay rent, they would remove the hashgacha- but no! All they care about is their reputation! If it makes them look bad, if word gets around that there is mixed dancing, that's when they remove the hashgacha.

Chana: (is amazed)

(Somehow the topic changes to the state of the shul)

The Father: Yes, so the ceiling's falling in...and you have to understand that people will give any excuse not to give money to the shul. The caterer's not paying his rent- I'm not giving money to the shul. The Rabbi didn't speak nicely to my wife- I'm not giving money to the shul. You went with this contractor when I could have gotten one for 20% less- I'm not giving money to the shul.

MTA Guy: And they don't tell you that that contractor who would've done it for 20% less had a hidden fee of _____ dollars so that it would have cost more!

The Father: So whatever excuse- they're not giving money for the shul. And when it comes time to pay dues- they don't understand. Each family's dues are $500 and that doesn't even begin to cover the cost of the Rabbi's salary.

Chana: But if you sat them down and logically explained to them where the money goes and why you need money....?

The Father: Do you think they care? Logically explain! People give excuses; people are interested in aesthetics. If they see improvement, aesthetic improvement in the crumbling walls, if they see productivity, that's when they get on board to give money.

MTA Guy: Yes, it's the aesthetics that matter, not the internal improvements.

Chana: But that's idiotic! What good are the aesthetics if it's ruined on the inside?

The Father: Well, have you ever been on a date?

Chana: No.

The Father: Well, you put on makeup, don't you? So that's to change your outside appearance, isn't it?

Mother: No, no, that's to enhance the outside appearance.

Chana: But that's different! I'm not trying to hide under the makeup- it's just different if it's a building and when it's a person.

The Father: Well, then I'll have to think of another analogy...

But what I discovered after talking to him is that despite his cynical understanding of the way the world works, the way people act, what people value, the way people take advantage- Orthodox Jews who don't pay rent on their catering halls!- despite all this, at the core he is an idealistic person. He wouldn't spend the time he does on the shul, he wouldn't do what he does, if he didn't believe in what he was doing; if he didn't believe in the cause. I told him so and he agreed. So he is an idealist cloaked in cynicism. I appreciate that.

Back to my friend. She also taught me how to core and peel apples in preparation for Shabbos; she made her famous apple crumble. I have never cored an apple before; I have never even seen those kind of knives before! Anyway, it tasted delicious.

So let's see. I learned about the inner workings of the ear, the eye, shul politics, how to core and peel apples...that's quite a lot for one weekend. And by no means is that all! She's extremely observant; she understands and forgives quite a lot of human nature. But more importantly, she is happy. She is optimistic, happy, kind; she has the kind of indomitable spirit and will that I envy. I cannot see her as "the deaf girl." It is not what she is; it is not who she is. She believes that everyone is given challenges and trials, and that God does not give us challenges that we cannot handle. These challenges are meant as stepping-stones; we are meant to grow. She is who she is- happy, having accepted her limitations, optimistic, clever and kind- because of the way she has reacted to her diagnosis and sometimes limited abilities, also because she was given wonderful parents to help her. But she is not her limited abilities. She is not "the deaf girl."

She's had the rare opportunity to study people in relation to herself. She can tell good people from "bad" (and I use the word lightly, in order to connote inconsiderate, unkind, or thoughtless as well) simply by seeing how they react to her. If they are overly nice, overly sweet, if they treat her as a chesed project, as a girl to protect from the world- she knows they are not true friends. If they pity her- and have I ever met anyone who needs pity less!- it is to assert their own superiority and look down on her from their high vantage point, not out of kindness. Pity is one of the cruelest traits.

He had never felt this before- not when Henry Cameron collapsed in the office at his feet, not when he saw Steven Mallory sobbing on a bed before him. Those moments had been clean. But this was pity- this complete awareness of a man without worth or hope, this sense of finality, of the not to be redeemed. There was shame in this feeling- his own shame that he should have to pronounce such judgment upon a man, that he should know an emotion which contained no shred of respect.

This is pity, he thought, and then he lifted his head in wonder. He thought that there must be something terribly wrong with a world in which this monstrous feeling is called a virtue.

~The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand, 609

It is not pity that she needs. It is understanding, kindness, to be treated as an equal. And she is an equal. Her mind is glorious! And her perception- she is so perceptive! I was speaking with her, and she helped me to realize something very interesting about myself. When I see problems, I want them fixed. I am a problem-solver. Perhaps this is why I like algebra, but I cannot deal with all other types of math. What is more, I want people fixed in accord with what I think is right. I see someone who is depressed and miserable and unhappy- I want them "fixed;" I want them to be happy. I see someone in the midst of an abusive/ dysfunctional relationship; I want it fixed- I want the person to leave the relationship. I want the person to help themselves and I have a hard time understanding, unless someone is truly standing in the way, why they do not. I do not want what is best for the person; I want what I think is best for the person. This is the judgmental personality. Now, when it comes down to it, of course I do not want to make people do things they do not want to do. When it comes down to it, who says my definition of "fixed" is right? As my friend pointed out, people are not toys. You cannot play with them; you cannot make them do things. Nevertheless, this is the way I like things to be- I like them to be fixed. If the caterer isn't paying his rent to the shul, I want this fixed; he needs to pay his rent.

I am not a very patient person. I cannot understand a slow but necessary process of growth, people being helped to help themselves. I become frustrated with people who do not do what I think is the correct or "fixed" path. This is not in matters of opinion, ideology and religion, in which I allow for variation- it is in matters that seem clear to me, in which right and wrong are not only clear, but as I see it, obvious. This is how I think.

I didn't realize any of this until she pointed it out to me. She also explained our differences in analysis. She suggests that I am good at English because I can analyze characters and the answers are in the book. It is generally a full story, in which the person either is "fixed" or is not "fixed." I could not, however, act as a psychologist- I would analyze the people and then expect them to do what I wanted to "fix" themselves and take all the blame if they didn't. That wouldn't be good at all.

She saw all this just through talking to me! I never saw this. She's right, though; she's very right. She's supposedly deaf, and yet have I ever met anyone who listens like her?

Oh! And she reads lips! Imagine how cool this is- she wakes up in the morning, having taken out the cochlear apparatus she wears over her ears, and not thinking, I speak to her. And she answers. I realize later, when she tells me, that she's been reading my lips! That's crazy! And I didn't just say simple things, like "Hello" and "How are you?" but full sentences, full statements and ideas and she understood me!

Her insights with regard to people on a whole are so interesting- she understands how different people see her and to an extent, she accepts it. She also explained how she came to terms with herself and her differences- it cannot be easy. So many things that I take for granted- I go to a movie theater, for instance. Well, she has to go to a closed-caption movie, so that she can read the subtitles in addition to hearing the characters speak. She has to plan it, is what I mean. Or I listen to the radio- to her, the music is not so appealing. Or I go ice-skating, naturally enjoying this, but her balance would not allow her to do this.

Asking people for help, she explains, is like asking for charity. Everyone has their pride. Nobody wants to be dependant on another person, to ask another person for help. And yet, steeling herself, she has learned to do it when she needs to do so. She has learned to accept herself, and in her acceptance she radiates such joy, such vitality, utter kindness, such strength... And her ability to forgive- people must slight her all the time, all unknowing. Or perhaps, having heard her speak- and of course it is not entirely the same as my speech, for instance, because speech is formed by hearing those around you- these people have the impression that she is an idiot or stupid or dumb. And they could not be further from the truth, couldn't be!

As she says, she is human. She has her bad spells. It isn't all roses and daffodils. It isn't all wonderful. But looking at her, looking at her, I cannot but be inspired, amazed. She knows so much, she sees so much, and yet she has to accept so much.

I was explaining to her- I look at people, not her, necessarily, but people who are mentally challenged, for example- and at the same time that I want them to be happy and content with themselves, I feel pain and I feel anger because why, why does it have to be this way? Why are they denied the opportunities that come so naturally to me? Why am I given the world, and they the four corners of a "home?" I want to change things. I want it to be different. God healed them when he gave us his Law; I know He will heal them again in the future. But now, now, I want it now; I want the medical advances and scientific advances now! It has to be different in our future. We grow and conquer. We did away with smallpox and the bubonic plague; now we have cancer. I don't think we'll ever outrun disease, we'll never triumph over everything, but we must do the best we can.

And anyone who can- any doctors or medical professionals or researchers- I think the world of you. You are my hope, because you are going to change this world. You are going to invent the cures, to find the technology, you are going to prevent this dazzling girl from going blind as her disease progresses, with your God-given intellect you are going to save us all.

I believe it because I need to believe it. I need to believe in a world where the good people live on, where people are given back their lives. It's going to happen- we are going to make that world. Because this girl- her soul, her soul! She is a person with a beautiful soul. And we can't afford to lose people like her, or to be unkind or thoughtless or inconsiderate, as I was and as I hope not to be in the future.

She is the teacher and I am the student. The fact that she exists, and the way she exists- the way she acts, the wonderful way in which she loves the world and its beauty, its art and grandeur- well, if this doesn't give you hope, if this doesn't inspire you, I don't know what can.