This is the last night that I shall be sleeping in the dorms during the course of the official school year while serving as an official student. Sure, I'll probably be back in order to see friends, but there is something oddly sad and nostalgic about this. I didn't expect to feel anything; I'm good at moving on when it comes to anything school-related. There are other things that impact me more. But here I am and it's 5 AM and I've woken up...realizing this is really the last time. Last time, our last play, and after tonight I'm gone, off to walk different paths and dance to different tunes.
How much I have changed since I was that student all that time ago who wasn't sure whether to come here or the University of Chicago...and cried upon losing a dream.
Remember this?
"Do I want the University of Chicago? Yes, I do. I love their academics, I love their people, I love their facilities, their amenities, their libraries. I want everything there. I want my dream-Chana. But the only way I could go there is if I weren't Chana."
In many ways, I'm a completely different person. And there's something painful in leaving behind an environment that so totally changed you- which isn't to say that I won't still be around, just that I shall be doing different things.
And God, in this I owe you thanks, for you have blessed my path thus far. I am awaiting a long walk yet, through candle-lit forests of gold, emerald and diamond. I am certain there shall be swan boats to greet me one day.
In other news, when it comes to goodbyes, my friend showed me a beautiful song entitled "Goodbye, My Lover" by James Blunt. I think it's lovely and sad so I am going to show it to you. (Lyrics are on the right side of the YouTube video.)
Friday, May 22, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Quiet Desperation
There is a beautiful song entitled "Quiet Desperation" from the musical "Pump Up The Volume." I only discovered it because Adam Lambert sings it (and he is brilliant.)
~
Quietly we’re taught to listen and resign.
Quiet desperation is our birthright, yours and mine.
And quietly the voice of expectation drowns the dream,
And quiet desperation chokes our soul, so we can’t scream.
Till we’re tearing at the seam, waiting…
Quietly we learn that life is just not fair.
Quiet desperation turns to silence and despair.
And quietly we ask ourselves: how could he choose that way?
While quiet desperation draws us further everyday
From the things we want to say.
And we’re waiting for a voice-
Waiting for the voice to call us home to your embrace.
And it doesn’t take an angel or some ministers of grace.
All it takes is someone who is saying
I hear you. I am here. I am here.
Something else is said
And the phone goes dead
And quietly it ends before it gets to start
Quietly the center fails
And things all fall apart
And quietly we hide our guilt
Each twinge and every pain
And quietly your life ends
With a whimper, not a bang.
And quietly we ask what songs we might have sang.
We’re waiting for a voice;
Waiting for the voice.
Waiting for the voice to call us home to your embrace.
And it doesn’t take an angel or some ministers of grace.
All it takes is someone saying
I’m sorry, Malcolm.
~
Hurrah for triumphing over quiet desperation...it's the victory of all time.
~
Quietly we’re taught to listen and resign.
Quiet desperation is our birthright, yours and mine.
And quietly the voice of expectation drowns the dream,
And quiet desperation chokes our soul, so we can’t scream.
Till we’re tearing at the seam, waiting…
Quietly we learn that life is just not fair.
Quiet desperation turns to silence and despair.
And quietly we ask ourselves: how could he choose that way?
While quiet desperation draws us further everyday
From the things we want to say.
And we’re waiting for a voice-
Waiting for the voice to call us home to your embrace.
And it doesn’t take an angel or some ministers of grace.
All it takes is someone who is saying
I hear you. I am here. I am here.
Something else is said
And the phone goes dead
And quietly it ends before it gets to start
Quietly the center fails
And things all fall apart
And quietly we hide our guilt
Each twinge and every pain
And quietly your life ends
With a whimper, not a bang.
And quietly we ask what songs we might have sang.
We’re waiting for a voice;
Waiting for the voice.
Waiting for the voice to call us home to your embrace.
And it doesn’t take an angel or some ministers of grace.
All it takes is someone saying
I’m sorry, Malcolm.
~
Hurrah for triumphing over quiet desperation...it's the victory of all time.
We Were On TV Today!
The Yeshiva University Student Medical Ethics Society was invited by CBS' "The Early Show" to make up the audience today (as their news anchors film segments outside on "The Plaza.") Anyone who watched "The Early Show" saw all of us doing YU proud with our track jackets, BAM stickers, hats, lanyards and posters! The idea was to raise awareness regarding the Gift of Life Bone Marrow Foundation in order to help Jake, a 19-year-old guy who was recently diagnosed with leukemia and needs a bone marrow match.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
I Just Don't Think My Heart Could Ever Have Lived With That
This was one of the best pieces of dialogue I have yet heard on a television show; it's a conversation between Jack and Renee on the television show "24," the Season 7 series finale.
~
Jack: I can’t tell you what to do. I’ve been wrestling with this all my life. When I see fifteen people held hostage on a bus, everything else goes out the window, and I’ll do whatever it takes to save them and I mean whatever it takes. You know, maybe I thought, if I save them, I can save myself.
Renee: Do you regret anything that you did today?
Jack: No. But then again, I don’t work for the FBI.
Renee: I don’t understand.
Jack: You took an oath. You made a promise to uphold the law. You cross that line, it always starts off with a small step. Before you know it, you’re running as fast as you can in the wrong direction just to justify why you started in the first place. These laws were written by much smarter men than me. And in the end, I know that these laws have to be more important than the fifteen people on the bus, I know that’s right. In my mind, I know that’s right. But I just don’t think my heart could ever have lived with that. I guess the only advice I can give you is [intake of breath] try to make choices that you can live with.
Renee: I don’t know what to say.
Jack: [sad, meaningful look] Don’t say anything at all.
~
While this is beautiful in and of itself, as it shows the way that Jack wrestles with himself and with existing outside the law, I think this dialogue is a beautiful metaphor for many of us, whether as human beings or Jews. So much of Judaism consists of wrestling with oneself, with what one believes to be true as opposed to what one feels to be true. Of course, in this particular episode, where Jack is positioned against the President, who makes the painful choice to try her daughter in accordance with the law as opposed to protecting her from its full force, we see a different kind of heroism as well. The President sacrifices her marriage and family in order to try Olivia as opposed to destroying the incriminating recording; to do otherwise would be the worst sort of hypocrisy.
"But I just don't think my heart could ever have lived with that."
I think, many times, this is the struggle between the religious and non-religious Jew. The religious Jew is like the President, giving up her family, taking her daughter to be judged for murder as opposed to giving in to the human urge to protect her. Jack, on the other end of the spectrum, put the entire FBI operation into jeopardy when it came to him to protect his daughter, Kim. Granted, Kim did not kill anybody, and therefore was innocent, as opposed to Olivia, but this demonstrates their two different techniques and methods. I think, at least sometimes, those who choose to become non-religious do it because their heart can't live with being religious, in accordance with a law which seems cruel per our human standards.
And as for me? I see both Jack's side and the President's side, and I think there is heroism incumbent in both choices. Jack's heroism involves action where he is actually allowed to get the bad guys, while the President suffers privately, trying her daughter because it is right, and not because she morally disagrees with her (after all Jonas Hodges deserved death). I respect both sides and I always have. At times I find myself very torn; there is a lot that "my heart cannot live with" in Orthodox Judaism. And yet, I have never been as rash, hot-headed and action-oriented as Jack. Sometimes I break the rules, but most of the time I am like the President; it is a quieter kind of pain. I think a lot of our religiosity comes down to that- how much of us is made up of Jack, and how much of President Allison Taylor. There are those of us who work outside the law, but it is only our love that makes us do so, and then there are those of us who are bound and resigned to the law, although it tears us apart.
~
Jack: I can’t tell you what to do. I’ve been wrestling with this all my life. When I see fifteen people held hostage on a bus, everything else goes out the window, and I’ll do whatever it takes to save them and I mean whatever it takes. You know, maybe I thought, if I save them, I can save myself.
Renee: Do you regret anything that you did today?
Jack: No. But then again, I don’t work for the FBI.
Renee: I don’t understand.
Jack: You took an oath. You made a promise to uphold the law. You cross that line, it always starts off with a small step. Before you know it, you’re running as fast as you can in the wrong direction just to justify why you started in the first place. These laws were written by much smarter men than me. And in the end, I know that these laws have to be more important than the fifteen people on the bus, I know that’s right. In my mind, I know that’s right. But I just don’t think my heart could ever have lived with that. I guess the only advice I can give you is [intake of breath] try to make choices that you can live with.
Renee: I don’t know what to say.
Jack: [sad, meaningful look] Don’t say anything at all.
~
While this is beautiful in and of itself, as it shows the way that Jack wrestles with himself and with existing outside the law, I think this dialogue is a beautiful metaphor for many of us, whether as human beings or Jews. So much of Judaism consists of wrestling with oneself, with what one believes to be true as opposed to what one feels to be true. Of course, in this particular episode, where Jack is positioned against the President, who makes the painful choice to try her daughter in accordance with the law as opposed to protecting her from its full force, we see a different kind of heroism as well. The President sacrifices her marriage and family in order to try Olivia as opposed to destroying the incriminating recording; to do otherwise would be the worst sort of hypocrisy.
"But I just don't think my heart could ever have lived with that."
I think, many times, this is the struggle between the religious and non-religious Jew. The religious Jew is like the President, giving up her family, taking her daughter to be judged for murder as opposed to giving in to the human urge to protect her. Jack, on the other end of the spectrum, put the entire FBI operation into jeopardy when it came to him to protect his daughter, Kim. Granted, Kim did not kill anybody, and therefore was innocent, as opposed to Olivia, but this demonstrates their two different techniques and methods. I think, at least sometimes, those who choose to become non-religious do it because their heart can't live with being religious, in accordance with a law which seems cruel per our human standards.
And as for me? I see both Jack's side and the President's side, and I think there is heroism incumbent in both choices. Jack's heroism involves action where he is actually allowed to get the bad guys, while the President suffers privately, trying her daughter because it is right, and not because she morally disagrees with her (after all Jonas Hodges deserved death). I respect both sides and I always have. At times I find myself very torn; there is a lot that "my heart cannot live with" in Orthodox Judaism. And yet, I have never been as rash, hot-headed and action-oriented as Jack. Sometimes I break the rules, but most of the time I am like the President; it is a quieter kind of pain. I think a lot of our religiosity comes down to that- how much of us is made up of Jack, and how much of President Allison Taylor. There are those of us who work outside the law, but it is only our love that makes us do so, and then there are those of us who are bound and resigned to the law, although it tears us apart.
there is irony in this somewhere, despite the fact that i can't see it
All year round I walk around exhausted, bags under my eyes, tired, wanting to fall into my bed and stay there forever...indeed, I make jokes about it; I tell you all that exhausted is the new sexy...and make up rhymes about how I'm a zombie...
Now, when I theoretically have all the time in the world to sleep, I can't. I've tried, failed, and I desperately want to...but it doesn't work. My mind has mutinied; my soul refuses to travel to God and scribble down an account of my day. Instead I stare into unblinking space, or into the dark, and try to will the closing of my eyes, the onslaught of darkness, soothing and peaceful and calm...
Somebody finds this highly amusing, but it's not me.
Now, when I theoretically have all the time in the world to sleep, I can't. I've tried, failed, and I desperately want to...but it doesn't work. My mind has mutinied; my soul refuses to travel to God and scribble down an account of my day. Instead I stare into unblinking space, or into the dark, and try to will the closing of my eyes, the onslaught of darkness, soothing and peaceful and calm...
Somebody finds this highly amusing, but it's not me.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Welcome to the Dance Party
I just took the last final I shall ever take at Stern College for Women. Yes, there are two more that I shall have to take at summer school, but Stern is DONE!!!!Welcome to the Dance Party. Here are the songs on the roster:
No Leaf Clover- Metallica
Runaway-Yeah Yeah Yeahs
I Can Make You Feel It- Home Video
Stripped- Shiny Toy Guns
Affirmation- Savage Garden
Pretty Girl- Sugarcult
Everytime- Britney Spears
Carry On Dancing- Savage Garden
Someone New- Eskobar
The Freshman- The Verve Pipe
Paralyzer-Finger Eleven
Angels & Demons Soundtrack- 160 BPM
Add in various and sundry others from Yanni, Z100, other soundtracks I enjoy and various happymaking bands...and I shall dance the night away.
Jeremiah's Vanishing New York
Have you ever wanted to get to know New York- the parts that the guidebook doesn't show you?
Well, now you have that chance.
Welcome to "Jeremiah's Vanishing New York," a blog subtitled, "The Book of Lamentations: A Bitterly Nostalgic Look At a City in the Process of Going Extinct." It is completely fascinating and offers a journey though gilded-age New York, and the pockets that still remain.
Well, now you have that chance.
Welcome to "Jeremiah's Vanishing New York," a blog subtitled, "The Book of Lamentations: A Bitterly Nostalgic Look At a City in the Process of Going Extinct." It is completely fascinating and offers a journey though gilded-age New York, and the pockets that still remain.
The Violin Child
I adore violins. I always have. If there's music and I like it, it's almost certain that urgent violins are part of the piece. To me, violins are passion and poetry and the soul and the only music worth listening to; the godly, impossible music that allows me to taste a little bit of heaven is made with the violin.
For this reason, I love the "Angels & Demons" soundtrack. (I saw the film on Friday and it was FANTASTIC, a much better adaptation than "The Da Vinci Code" was.) Or as I put it earlier on Friday: "Lollipop Trees rock my socks. Also, real men sparkle (courtesy of Edward Cullen the Vampire Champ.) AND I love the Moulin Rouge dude in "Angels and Demons," otherwise known as the Camerlengo."
Here is the main theme, and here is the first song on the soundtrack, one I love because it has the *swoon* godly violins.
In short, if you love me, you'll remember the violins.
For this reason, I love the "Angels & Demons" soundtrack. (I saw the film on Friday and it was FANTASTIC, a much better adaptation than "The Da Vinci Code" was.) Or as I put it earlier on Friday: "Lollipop Trees rock my socks. Also, real men sparkle (courtesy of Edward Cullen the Vampire Champ.) AND I love the Moulin Rouge dude in "Angels and Demons," otherwise known as the Camerlengo."
Here is the main theme, and here is the first song on the soundtrack, one I love because it has the *swoon* godly violins.
In short, if you love me, you'll remember the violins.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Damn Emma!
It occurs to me I'd rather write about Mr. Knightley.
In other news, I hate Jane Austen. Always have, always will. Give me Wuthering Heights, The Phantom of the Opera or Jane Eyre any day.
Aha! I have it. I shall write about all the reasons I hate Emma. *Insert evil laughter.*
UPDATE: Sam is fantastic. He inquires: What effect will garbage disposaling 70% of your grade have on you? An excellent question. Luckily, I have just discovered how to read Emma with a TWIST. Like a James Bond martini twist. Ahahahaha. AKA *facepalm, I'm dying here.*
UPDATE 2: It's DONE! The paper of death and doom has been completed, and I have to go to bed in order to study for my final tomorrow morning.
In other news, I hate Jane Austen. Always have, always will. Give me Wuthering Heights, The Phantom of the Opera or Jane Eyre any day.
Aha! I have it. I shall write about all the reasons I hate Emma. *Insert evil laughter.*
UPDATE: Sam is fantastic. He inquires: What effect will garbage disposaling 70% of your grade have on you? An excellent question. Luckily, I have just discovered how to read Emma with a TWIST. Like a James Bond martini twist. Ahahahaha. AKA *facepalm, I'm dying here.*
UPDATE 2: It's DONE! The paper of death and doom has been completed, and I have to go to bed in order to study for my final tomorrow morning.
Teshuva Through English Literature
"There is a way to be good again."
~Main theme of The Kite Runner, which I read this Shabbat alongside A Class Apart: Prodigies Pressure and Passion Inside One of America's Best High Schools, This Lullaby, part of The Dante Club and the beginning of the sequel to Cheaper by the Dozen.
Discuss.
~Main theme of The Kite Runner, which I read this Shabbat alongside A Class Apart: Prodigies Pressure and Passion Inside One of America's Best High Schools, This Lullaby, part of The Dante Club and the beginning of the sequel to Cheaper by the Dozen.
Discuss.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Packing is Complete!
How one person can accumulate so much stuff, I do not know...but nevertheless, know it can be done.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
The Freshman
The Verve Pipe has a beautiful and heartbreaking song entitled "The Freshman." For reasons I can't wholly explain, it really touches me (I'm not alone in that; it was, and still is, a classic.) The most amazing part of the song is the way that it rises in pain to reach a crescendo...there's a lot of passion in the way he sings the lyrics.
The song is about a freshman couple, a guy and a girl. The girl becomes pregnant and the guy tells her to have an abortion. She does so, they don't get married, and while the guy goes off for a week's vacation to try to forget about her, she commits suicide by overdosing on valium. But it's not the story of the song that grips me so much as the way he sings the lyrics.
The way I interpret the song, despite the fact that he asserts "I can't be held responsible," in truth he is damning himself. To me it seems as though the song is his outlet to express his anger with himself, and the very fact that he is stating "I can't be held responsible" is his way of trying to deal with the bewilderment, confusion and pain. He starts out thoughtful, but gets to a point where he sings the verses with so much passion, and to me that expresses his anger...with himself. Also, the way that I see it, when he sings the lines, "I can't be held responsible/ 'Cause she was touching her face" that refers to the baby. So the baby was female and in the sonogram she was touching her face, but the man nonetheless forced his girlfriend into having the abortion. The second line, "I won't be held responsible/ She fell in love in the first place" refers, of course, to his girlfriend.
The saddest part of the song is the chorus:
For the life of me I cannot remember
What made us think that we were wise and we'd never compromise
For the life of me I cannot believe we'd ever die for these sins
We were merely freshmen
And then the next section of poetic lyrics:
We've tried to wash our hands of all of this
We never talk of our lack in relationships
And how we're guilt stricken sobbin' with our heads on the floor
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip, we'd say
I think that's a brilliant line.
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip...
It's matched by a line of out Metallica's "No Leaf Clover:"
Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel/ Was just a freight train coming your way.
It's the same idea in both phrases.
There's something terribly human in the song; it reaches out and grips you, almost shaking you by the collar, telling you to wake up and listen because this is telling you the story of your own life. Not that we have necessarily made mistakes of this magnitude but who hasn't known everything when they were young? And our mistakes are generally major; despite our best efforts, we fell through the ice when we tried not to slip. But it's the lesson that I think is the most amazing part of the song...he works it through in his mind, protesting even as he blames himself, and to me it is almost mournful, lamenting...we were only freshmen; that should have protected us. And somehow, despite everything, this song is life-affirming. Perhaps it's just the way it touches me...perhaps it's the fact that the human condition is so beautifully expressed.
Who hasn't been guilt stricken sobbing with my head on the floor?
But we get up, move on and move forward- and perhaps it's the story beyond the song that I am envisioning that makes it seem so powerful and true to me. "The Freshman" doesn't end there; these freshmen grow up, and this event changes them- and I think, transforms them into better people. People are improved through encountering pain.
The song is about a freshman couple, a guy and a girl. The girl becomes pregnant and the guy tells her to have an abortion. She does so, they don't get married, and while the guy goes off for a week's vacation to try to forget about her, she commits suicide by overdosing on valium. But it's not the story of the song that grips me so much as the way he sings the lyrics.
The way I interpret the song, despite the fact that he asserts "I can't be held responsible," in truth he is damning himself. To me it seems as though the song is his outlet to express his anger with himself, and the very fact that he is stating "I can't be held responsible" is his way of trying to deal with the bewilderment, confusion and pain. He starts out thoughtful, but gets to a point where he sings the verses with so much passion, and to me that expresses his anger...with himself. Also, the way that I see it, when he sings the lines, "I can't be held responsible/ 'Cause she was touching her face" that refers to the baby. So the baby was female and in the sonogram she was touching her face, but the man nonetheless forced his girlfriend into having the abortion. The second line, "I won't be held responsible/ She fell in love in the first place" refers, of course, to his girlfriend.
The saddest part of the song is the chorus:
For the life of me I cannot remember
What made us think that we were wise and we'd never compromise
For the life of me I cannot believe we'd ever die for these sins
We were merely freshmen
And then the next section of poetic lyrics:
We've tried to wash our hands of all of this
We never talk of our lack in relationships
And how we're guilt stricken sobbin' with our heads on the floor
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip, we'd say
I think that's a brilliant line.
We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip...
It's matched by a line of out Metallica's "No Leaf Clover:"
Then it comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel/ Was just a freight train coming your way.
It's the same idea in both phrases.
There's something terribly human in the song; it reaches out and grips you, almost shaking you by the collar, telling you to wake up and listen because this is telling you the story of your own life. Not that we have necessarily made mistakes of this magnitude but who hasn't known everything when they were young? And our mistakes are generally major; despite our best efforts, we fell through the ice when we tried not to slip. But it's the lesson that I think is the most amazing part of the song...he works it through in his mind, protesting even as he blames himself, and to me it is almost mournful, lamenting...we were only freshmen; that should have protected us. And somehow, despite everything, this song is life-affirming. Perhaps it's just the way it touches me...perhaps it's the fact that the human condition is so beautifully expressed.
Who hasn't been guilt stricken sobbing with my head on the floor?
But we get up, move on and move forward- and perhaps it's the story beyond the song that I am envisioning that makes it seem so powerful and true to me. "The Freshman" doesn't end there; these freshmen grow up, and this event changes them- and I think, transforms them into better people. People are improved through encountering pain.
Team Edward/ The Sparkle Queen is Back!
I nearly died laughing...who wants to buy this for me?
In other news, yesterday I...
1. Packed half my life. PROOF:
In other news, yesterday I...
1. Packed half my life. PROOF:
2. Dragged THE MOST AWESOME GIRL EVER to The Container Store and the two of us manipulated huge boxes on subway trains. You wish you'd been there.
3. Saw Marc Salem and he read my mind.
4. Played counselor unto the masses
5. Studied for some finals
6. Watched "Gossip Girl" (oh, Chuck and Blair love) and "24" (and today, "House"- oh House!)
7. Learned about the existence of the following poem:
'Peace upon earth!' was said. We sing it,
And pay a million priests to bring it.
After two thousand years of mass
We've got as far as poison gas.
~Thomas Hardy
8. Attended Midnight Madness and enjoyed cookies and ice cream and pancakes!
9. Last but not least, Neil Gaiman would like you to know that George R. R. Martin (most fantastic fantasy writer ever) is not your b*tch.
Point is, y'all...when it's Finals Time and you're in pajamas, the most important thing to remember is that you've got to get your sparkle on!
Monday, May 11, 2009
The Official Graduation Song
I think "The Pass" by Rush should be the official Graduation Song.
~
Proud swagger out of the school yard
Waiting for the world's applause
Rebel without a conscience
Martyr without a cause
Static on your frequency
Electrical storm in your veins
Raging at unreachable glory
Straining at invisible chains
And now you're trembling on a rocky ledge
Staring down into a heartless sea
Can't face life on a razor's edge
Nothing's what you thought it would be
All of us get lost in the darkness
Dreamers learn to steer by the stars
All of us do time in the gutter
Dreamers turn to look at the cars
Turn around and turn around and turn around
Turn around and walk the razor's edge
Don't turn your back
And slam the door on me
It's not as if this barricade
Blocks the only road
It's not as if you're all alone
In wanting to explode
Someone set a bad example
Made surrender seem all right
The act of a noble warrior
Who lost the will to fight
And now you're trembling on a rocky ledge
Staring down into a heartless sea
Done with life on a razor's edge
Nothing's what you thought it would be
No hero in your tragedy
No daring in your escape
No salutes for your surrender
Nothing noble in your fate
Christ, what have you done?
*
In short, not necessarily what you expected, but it's all going to get better from hereon out. That's my take and I am sticking to it.
~
Proud swagger out of the school yard
Waiting for the world's applause
Rebel without a conscience
Martyr without a cause
Static on your frequency
Electrical storm in your veins
Raging at unreachable glory
Straining at invisible chains
And now you're trembling on a rocky ledge
Staring down into a heartless sea
Can't face life on a razor's edge
Nothing's what you thought it would be
All of us get lost in the darkness
Dreamers learn to steer by the stars
All of us do time in the gutter
Dreamers turn to look at the cars
Turn around and turn around and turn around
Turn around and walk the razor's edge
Don't turn your back
And slam the door on me
It's not as if this barricade
Blocks the only road
It's not as if you're all alone
In wanting to explode
Someone set a bad example
Made surrender seem all right
The act of a noble warrior
Who lost the will to fight
And now you're trembling on a rocky ledge
Staring down into a heartless sea
Done with life on a razor's edge
Nothing's what you thought it would be
No hero in your tragedy
No daring in your escape
No salutes for your surrender
Nothing noble in your fate
Christ, what have you done?
*
In short, not necessarily what you expected, but it's all going to get better from hereon out. That's my take and I am sticking to it.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
The Glittering Pool
A vision
I remember him as a handsome man, his cardigan slung carelessly over his buttoned-down shirt, which was slightly open at the neck, extending slightly so that one could see a little of his chest hair. I remember his glad brown eyes as he laughed, the handsome smile that cut through so many potential admirers. I remember him at the prow of a boat, standing there jauntily, taking up a pose as he had taken so many formerly. His legs are crossed, as though in a single moment he will unbend them in order to dance. I can almost hear the laughter that radiates from his skin. He is glowing; he is caught in a moment in time. I see these visions in my mind, and then I look at him now, the man who is walking through our house. He is weighed upon, his eyes are filled with pain. He looks wild. His hair has grown out, a tangled mane, and despite my best efforts, it remains uncombed, a wild mess. He will not suffer me to go near him. But it is the look in his eyes that is like a knife; it overflows with pain, so that I cannot move; I am struck by the weight of it.
Sister and brother, I have lived with him forever. I am younger than him, with my brown locks and unhappy eyes, and I remember him comforting me about my beaus and suitors, assuring me that none of them were worthy of me. I remember him dancing with me on the ship, the pleasure ship we had enjoyed so well. And then came the dark times, the murders. Our parents had desired to emigrate from Russia and their visas had been denied; not only that, but in retribution for their having asked, the government had them murdered. And so we came home to discover that we were orphans and Aiden had always taken it harder than I have. He walked through the house, his step cold, firm, but what I did not know is that his mind was a camera, photographing all, so that it would remain imprinted upon his memory. And what I did not know is that everything in the future was to be replaced with that roll of film, the faint bloodstains- they were too polite to leave a mess- and the ugly letter they had left on our kitchen table, informing us of what was to be.
But now it is decades later and we live in America. One would think that it would no longer haunt him so much…but his eyes lost the blind look that once struck him, the fresh rage with which one can plan and achieve so much, and took up a pained one. He feels the pain of the slaughter of our parents, and he feels my pain in the fact that I have nowhere else to live except with him, in this grand mansion that we have kept clean for so many years but which is slowly beginning to fall apart. And so it is, that one day, he took upon himself a vow of silence.
“Vows of silence are for young women who are sewing shirts of nettles to throw over their young men,” I reproached him. “They are not for the old ones, such as we,” I cautioned. But he did not hear me.
“You cannot do this to me!” I protested. But I saw in his eyes that he could, and furthermore, he believed he was sparing me.
I took loose change, coins, and threw them at him. I did this so as to hear a sound, the coins falling to the floor, tinkles and splats as they fell. He paused seven times and looked at me; the look in his eyes was ghastly. And then he stopped no longer, and I could throw coins at his retreating back and even at his front, but he would not move.
I wanted to get him out of the house, to do something despite his silence. There was a grizzled old man who lived down the block, at the edge; his name was Efrom. Efrom was obsessed with his pool and the cleanliness thereof. He owned a beautiful outdoor pool with chlorinated water, pristine in the light of the sun, sparkling like jewels. I walked down the block to Efrom and saw him cleaning his pool.
“My brother could do that,” I called.
“Yeah?” he asked gruffly.
“Yes,” I said, though the tears stang my eyes to see my brother so reduced. Once he had stood at the prow of ships, the future written on his face, and now he would clean this man’s pool.
And so Aiden went to work the next day. He did not speak at all. He took the net and cast it into the water, looking for insects and bugs and dirt, casting it out. He scrubbed at the edges. After time, I saw that he had been replaced by a little speedboat that zipped through the pool, cleaning in its wake. However, Efrom was a stickler for perfect cleanliness, and so, after the speedboat had gone its way, Aiden walked carefully, almost like a machine, picked up the neck, cast it, took out the dirt, and cleaned.
I could not bear to watch it and so I would spend my time at home, or out. Once, a female friend came over, and as we walked about the block, she caught a glimpse of the blue water, deceptively calm. She wanted to see it, so we walked over. More importantly, I wanted to check up on Aiden, and make sure he was fine.
I saw the little speedboat zipping atop the waves of the pool, and I heard Efrom, laughing madly. But I did not see Aiden. Then, turning my eyes to the right, I saw another boat, this kind with a propeller, and a large sack of something underneath it. Strangely, the propelling was turning at high speed. I heard Efrom’s laughter grow louder.
“What is it?” I cried out in alarm. And as I ran toward the shape, I knew, somewhere within my mind, that it was Aiden.
Efrom had pushed him there, on the dock, unconscious, and the boat’s helicopter propeller blades had gouged themselves into his neck so that he bled. But his eyes were not glassy, free of pain; they held that same look, that same immortal look, and even in death, his eyes were full of pain. I screamed and demanded that the man who owned the pool help me, and my female friend who ran forward alongside me, and Efrom, grinning madly, put his hands underneath the propeller blades to stop them while I dragged my brother out from under that boat and onto the concrete that was next to the glittering, shining outdoor pool. But he was dead, and the water glittered mercilessly in the light of the sun.
I remember him as a handsome man, his cardigan slung carelessly over his buttoned-down shirt, which was slightly open at the neck, extending slightly so that one could see a little of his chest hair. I remember his glad brown eyes as he laughed, the handsome smile that cut through so many potential admirers. I remember him at the prow of a boat, standing there jauntily, taking up a pose as he had taken so many formerly. His legs are crossed, as though in a single moment he will unbend them in order to dance. I can almost hear the laughter that radiates from his skin. He is glowing; he is caught in a moment in time. I see these visions in my mind, and then I look at him now, the man who is walking through our house. He is weighed upon, his eyes are filled with pain. He looks wild. His hair has grown out, a tangled mane, and despite my best efforts, it remains uncombed, a wild mess. He will not suffer me to go near him. But it is the look in his eyes that is like a knife; it overflows with pain, so that I cannot move; I am struck by the weight of it.
Sister and brother, I have lived with him forever. I am younger than him, with my brown locks and unhappy eyes, and I remember him comforting me about my beaus and suitors, assuring me that none of them were worthy of me. I remember him dancing with me on the ship, the pleasure ship we had enjoyed so well. And then came the dark times, the murders. Our parents had desired to emigrate from Russia and their visas had been denied; not only that, but in retribution for their having asked, the government had them murdered. And so we came home to discover that we were orphans and Aiden had always taken it harder than I have. He walked through the house, his step cold, firm, but what I did not know is that his mind was a camera, photographing all, so that it would remain imprinted upon his memory. And what I did not know is that everything in the future was to be replaced with that roll of film, the faint bloodstains- they were too polite to leave a mess- and the ugly letter they had left on our kitchen table, informing us of what was to be.
But now it is decades later and we live in America. One would think that it would no longer haunt him so much…but his eyes lost the blind look that once struck him, the fresh rage with which one can plan and achieve so much, and took up a pained one. He feels the pain of the slaughter of our parents, and he feels my pain in the fact that I have nowhere else to live except with him, in this grand mansion that we have kept clean for so many years but which is slowly beginning to fall apart. And so it is, that one day, he took upon himself a vow of silence.
“Vows of silence are for young women who are sewing shirts of nettles to throw over their young men,” I reproached him. “They are not for the old ones, such as we,” I cautioned. But he did not hear me.
“You cannot do this to me!” I protested. But I saw in his eyes that he could, and furthermore, he believed he was sparing me.
I took loose change, coins, and threw them at him. I did this so as to hear a sound, the coins falling to the floor, tinkles and splats as they fell. He paused seven times and looked at me; the look in his eyes was ghastly. And then he stopped no longer, and I could throw coins at his retreating back and even at his front, but he would not move.
I wanted to get him out of the house, to do something despite his silence. There was a grizzled old man who lived down the block, at the edge; his name was Efrom. Efrom was obsessed with his pool and the cleanliness thereof. He owned a beautiful outdoor pool with chlorinated water, pristine in the light of the sun, sparkling like jewels. I walked down the block to Efrom and saw him cleaning his pool.
“My brother could do that,” I called.
“Yeah?” he asked gruffly.
“Yes,” I said, though the tears stang my eyes to see my brother so reduced. Once he had stood at the prow of ships, the future written on his face, and now he would clean this man’s pool.
And so Aiden went to work the next day. He did not speak at all. He took the net and cast it into the water, looking for insects and bugs and dirt, casting it out. He scrubbed at the edges. After time, I saw that he had been replaced by a little speedboat that zipped through the pool, cleaning in its wake. However, Efrom was a stickler for perfect cleanliness, and so, after the speedboat had gone its way, Aiden walked carefully, almost like a machine, picked up the neck, cast it, took out the dirt, and cleaned.
I could not bear to watch it and so I would spend my time at home, or out. Once, a female friend came over, and as we walked about the block, she caught a glimpse of the blue water, deceptively calm. She wanted to see it, so we walked over. More importantly, I wanted to check up on Aiden, and make sure he was fine.
I saw the little speedboat zipping atop the waves of the pool, and I heard Efrom, laughing madly. But I did not see Aiden. Then, turning my eyes to the right, I saw another boat, this kind with a propeller, and a large sack of something underneath it. Strangely, the propelling was turning at high speed. I heard Efrom’s laughter grow louder.
“What is it?” I cried out in alarm. And as I ran toward the shape, I knew, somewhere within my mind, that it was Aiden.
Efrom had pushed him there, on the dock, unconscious, and the boat’s helicopter propeller blades had gouged themselves into his neck so that he bled. But his eyes were not glassy, free of pain; they held that same look, that same immortal look, and even in death, his eyes were full of pain. I screamed and demanded that the man who owned the pool help me, and my female friend who ran forward alongside me, and Efrom, grinning madly, put his hands underneath the propeller blades to stop them while I dragged my brother out from under that boat and onto the concrete that was next to the glittering, shining outdoor pool. But he was dead, and the water glittered mercilessly in the light of the sun.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
The Beauty of Human Justice: Thou Canst Not See My Face
So Student Council gifted me with a wonderful book entitled To Heal a Fractured World, written by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks. The reason I'm particularly happy about it is that the book answers a question I wrote about two years ago in "The Meaning of Justice." (Although I have had the question for a longer period of time than a mere two years.) I reproduce the excerpt below:
~
God exists, therefore there is justice. But it is divine justice- justice from the perspective of one who knows all, sees all, and considers all: the universe as a whole, and time as a whole, which is to say, eternity. But we who live in space and time cannot see from this perspective, and if we did, it would not make us better human beings but worse.
To be a parent is to be moved by the cry of a child. But if the child is ill and needs medicine, we administer it, making ourselves temporarily deaf to its cry. A surgeon, to do his job competently and well, must to a certain extent desensitize himself to the patent's fears and pains and regard him, however briefly, as a body rather than as a person. A statesman, to do his best for the country, must weigh long-term consequences and make tough, even brutal, decisions: for soldiers to die in war if war is necessary, for people to be thrown out of jobs if economic stringency is needed. Parents, surgeons and politicians have human feelings, but the very roles they occupy mean that at times they must override them if they are to do the best for those for whom they are responsible. To do the best for others needs a measure of detachment, a silencing of sympathy, an anesthetizing of compassion, for the road to happiness or health or peace sometimes runs through the landscape of pain and suffering and death.
If we were able to see how evil today leads to good tomorrow- if we were able to see from the point of view of God, creator of all- we would understand justice but at the cost of ceasing to be human. We would accept all, vindicate all, and become deaf to the cries of those in pain. God does not want us to cease to be human, for if he did, he would not have created us. We are not God. We will never see things from his perspective. The attempt to do so is an abdication of the human situation. My teacher, Rabbi Nahum Rabinovitch, taught me that this is how to understand the moment when Moses first encountered God at the burning bush. 'Moses hid his face because he was afraid to look at God' (Ex. 3:6). Why was he afraid? Because if he were fully to understand God he would have no choice but to be reconciled to the slavery and oppression of the world. From the vantage point of eternity, he would see that the bad is a necessary stage on the journey to the good. He would understand God but he would cease to be Moses, the fighter against injustice who intervened whenever he saw wrong being done. 'He was afraid' that seeing heaven would desensitize him to earth, that coming close to infinity would mean losing his humanity. That is why God chose Moses, and why he taught Abraham to pray.
A Holocaust historian was once interviewing a survivor of the extermination camps. He was a hassidic rebbe (the name given by hassidim, Jewish mystics, to their leader). Astonishingly, he seemed to have passed through the valley of the shadow of death, his faith intact. He could still smile. 'Seeing what you saw, did you have no questions about God?' she asked.
'Yes,' he said, 'Of course I had questions. So powerful were these questions, I had no doubt that were I to ask them, God would personally invite me to heaven to tell me the answers. And I prefer to be down here on earth with the questions than up in heaven with the answers'. He too belonged to this ancient Jewish tradition.
There is divine justice, and sometimes, looking back at the past from a distance in time, we can see it. But we do not live by looking back at the past. More than other faiths, the religion of the Hebrew Bible is written in the future tense. Ancient Israel was the only civilization to set its golden age in a not-yet-realized time, because a free human being lives toward the future. There is divine justice, but God wants us to strive for human justice- in the short term, not just the long term; in this world, not the next; from the perspective of time and space, not infinity and eternity. God creates divine justice, but only we can create human justice, acting on behalf of God but never aspiring to be other than human. That is why he created us. It is why God not only speaks but listens, why he wants to hear Abraham's voice, not just his own. Creation is empowerment. That is the radical proposition at the heart of the Hebrew Bible. God did not create humankind to demand of it absolute submission to his all-powerful will. In revelation, creation speaks. What it says is a call to responsibility.
~To Heal a Fractured World by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, 22-23
*
The reason I am particularly pleased with this answer is that it suggests there is a unique task to being human as opposed to striving to be God. While imitatio Dei is a major part of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik's thought, he also stresses the fact that we create yeish m'yeish as opposed to yeish m'ayin, a concept that is further elaborated upon by Rabbi Ari D. Kahn in his work Explorations. The idea that there is a particular role for the human being to fulfill sits well with me, and it also answers troubling places in the Talmud where we seem to override truth in favor of a false ruling perpetrated by human justice. This is an idea I have touched on in "Untrue Halakha." Assuming I accept the idea suggested by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, namely that there are specific realms for the human and the Godly and the two should not mix, this then makes sense. Why would the sages ignore a Bas Kol emanating from Heaven and focus on their own mortal and potentially fallible logic? Well, answers this idea from R' Sacks, it's because we are meant to be human and not God in these arenas. When we say, "The Torah is not in Heaven," what we are really affirming is our humanity and even our fallibility. It is our humanity that allows us to cry out to God at pain as opposed to accepting it all with eqanimity, stating that this is our lot and we should not tamper with it, as surely there is a purpose to everything. It is our humanity that makes us interfere and intervene when we see people suffering, as opposed to accepting it as divine justice. And apparently, it is that same humanity which must be allowed to reign when it comes to decisions of the law.
Now, the reason this idea is so amazing to me is that I have always been taught that we are supposed to be striving to be Godly in every single way. So it would seem to me that if we were given the chance to understand Divine justice, wisdom, logic, rulings and God, that is a chance we ought to take, something that would epitomize what a human being is trying to do! But Rabbi Sacks says no; we were placed on this earth to be human and we are supposed to be gloriously human and not to strive to become or be God. Yes, in certain ways we should imitate God, but we must never forget the glorious differences that make us human- the fact that we create yeish m'yeish, that we live and breathe, that we are fallible and can commit errors. We were placed on this earth to be human, not to attempt to be God.
Of course, with this idea comes questions, however. If Moses truly turned his face so that he could continue being human, moved by every cry and every sorrow, why is it that later he appeals to God to reveal His ways and divine justice to him?
יח וַיֹּאמַר: הַרְאֵנִי נָא, אֶת-כְּבֹדֶךָ. 18 And he said: 'Show me, I pray Thee, Thy glory.'
יט וַיֹּאמֶר, אֲנִי אַעֲבִיר כָּל-טוּבִי עַל-פָּנֶיךָ, וְקָרָאתִי בְשֵׁם יְהוָה, לְפָנֶיךָ; וְחַנֹּתִי אֶת-אֲשֶׁר אָחֹן, וְרִחַמְתִּי אֶת-אֲשֶׁר אֲרַחֵם. 19
And He said: 'I will make all My goodness pass before thee, and will proclaim the name of the LORD before thee; and I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy.'
כ וַיֹּאמֶר, לֹא תוּכַל לִרְאֹת אֶת-פָּנָי: כִּי לֹא-יִרְאַנִי הָאָדָם, וָחָי. 20
And He said: 'Thou canst not see My face, for man shall not see Me and live.'
~Exodus 33: 18-20
Why would Moses want to suddenly accept God's justice with equanimity, which would potentially result in his being unmoved by the plight of humans, when formerly he had protested it?
On the other hand, the famous story with Elijah and Rabbi Joshua ben Levi (see: GOD'S JUSTICE VINDICATED here) does suggest that Rabbi Sacks' idea is correct. Elijah, who understands God's ways and in fact carries them out within the framework of this story, expresses no pain at the fact that he has killed the poor people's cow, builds up a cruel rich man's wall, and otherwise does things that seem unfair. At each occurrence, Rabbi Joshua ben Levi is wholly astonished, and unable to hold himself back, begs Elijah for an explanation, even though he knows they must then part ways. Elijah explains how each of these actions was actually divine justice. However, from the human perspective and the human point of view, we are right for being astonished and upset, for thinking that the poor man has gotten the bad end of the deal when the cow is killed. That is who we are, who God created us to be. Had someone caught Elijah killing that cow, he would have been tried and would have had to pay for the animal according to the rules of the human court system, and that would have been right and proper for us to do- because that's the role we are supposed to play as humans.
Thus, to have heeded the Bas Kol declaring the Oven of Aknai to be tahor would be to stake out the domain of the Divine when we are meant to live in the domain of the human, when it is not our role to be Godly and not even something we are supposed to strive for! To feel compassion and sorrow for all creatures who are oppressed, to not accept the world with equanimity and claim that God's having a plan is the reason we do so, to be upset, moved and emotionally shaken by our encounter with life- that is our task. We should be human! At least, that is the answer that R' Sacks posits, and it's the best one I've heard thus far.
~
God exists, therefore there is justice. But it is divine justice- justice from the perspective of one who knows all, sees all, and considers all: the universe as a whole, and time as a whole, which is to say, eternity. But we who live in space and time cannot see from this perspective, and if we did, it would not make us better human beings but worse.
To be a parent is to be moved by the cry of a child. But if the child is ill and needs medicine, we administer it, making ourselves temporarily deaf to its cry. A surgeon, to do his job competently and well, must to a certain extent desensitize himself to the patent's fears and pains and regard him, however briefly, as a body rather than as a person. A statesman, to do his best for the country, must weigh long-term consequences and make tough, even brutal, decisions: for soldiers to die in war if war is necessary, for people to be thrown out of jobs if economic stringency is needed. Parents, surgeons and politicians have human feelings, but the very roles they occupy mean that at times they must override them if they are to do the best for those for whom they are responsible. To do the best for others needs a measure of detachment, a silencing of sympathy, an anesthetizing of compassion, for the road to happiness or health or peace sometimes runs through the landscape of pain and suffering and death.
If we were able to see how evil today leads to good tomorrow- if we were able to see from the point of view of God, creator of all- we would understand justice but at the cost of ceasing to be human. We would accept all, vindicate all, and become deaf to the cries of those in pain. God does not want us to cease to be human, for if he did, he would not have created us. We are not God. We will never see things from his perspective. The attempt to do so is an abdication of the human situation. My teacher, Rabbi Nahum Rabinovitch, taught me that this is how to understand the moment when Moses first encountered God at the burning bush. 'Moses hid his face because he was afraid to look at God' (Ex. 3:6). Why was he afraid? Because if he were fully to understand God he would have no choice but to be reconciled to the slavery and oppression of the world. From the vantage point of eternity, he would see that the bad is a necessary stage on the journey to the good. He would understand God but he would cease to be Moses, the fighter against injustice who intervened whenever he saw wrong being done. 'He was afraid' that seeing heaven would desensitize him to earth, that coming close to infinity would mean losing his humanity. That is why God chose Moses, and why he taught Abraham to pray.
A Holocaust historian was once interviewing a survivor of the extermination camps. He was a hassidic rebbe (the name given by hassidim, Jewish mystics, to their leader). Astonishingly, he seemed to have passed through the valley of the shadow of death, his faith intact. He could still smile. 'Seeing what you saw, did you have no questions about God?' she asked.
'Yes,' he said, 'Of course I had questions. So powerful were these questions, I had no doubt that were I to ask them, God would personally invite me to heaven to tell me the answers. And I prefer to be down here on earth with the questions than up in heaven with the answers'. He too belonged to this ancient Jewish tradition.
There is divine justice, and sometimes, looking back at the past from a distance in time, we can see it. But we do not live by looking back at the past. More than other faiths, the religion of the Hebrew Bible is written in the future tense. Ancient Israel was the only civilization to set its golden age in a not-yet-realized time, because a free human being lives toward the future. There is divine justice, but God wants us to strive for human justice- in the short term, not just the long term; in this world, not the next; from the perspective of time and space, not infinity and eternity. God creates divine justice, but only we can create human justice, acting on behalf of God but never aspiring to be other than human. That is why he created us. It is why God not only speaks but listens, why he wants to hear Abraham's voice, not just his own. Creation is empowerment. That is the radical proposition at the heart of the Hebrew Bible. God did not create humankind to demand of it absolute submission to his all-powerful will. In revelation, creation speaks. What it says is a call to responsibility.
~To Heal a Fractured World by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, 22-23
*
The reason I am particularly pleased with this answer is that it suggests there is a unique task to being human as opposed to striving to be God. While imitatio Dei is a major part of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik's thought, he also stresses the fact that we create yeish m'yeish as opposed to yeish m'ayin, a concept that is further elaborated upon by Rabbi Ari D. Kahn in his work Explorations. The idea that there is a particular role for the human being to fulfill sits well with me, and it also answers troubling places in the Talmud where we seem to override truth in favor of a false ruling perpetrated by human justice. This is an idea I have touched on in "Untrue Halakha." Assuming I accept the idea suggested by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, namely that there are specific realms for the human and the Godly and the two should not mix, this then makes sense. Why would the sages ignore a Bas Kol emanating from Heaven and focus on their own mortal and potentially fallible logic? Well, answers this idea from R' Sacks, it's because we are meant to be human and not God in these arenas. When we say, "The Torah is not in Heaven," what we are really affirming is our humanity and even our fallibility. It is our humanity that allows us to cry out to God at pain as opposed to accepting it all with eqanimity, stating that this is our lot and we should not tamper with it, as surely there is a purpose to everything. It is our humanity that makes us interfere and intervene when we see people suffering, as opposed to accepting it as divine justice. And apparently, it is that same humanity which must be allowed to reign when it comes to decisions of the law.
Now, the reason this idea is so amazing to me is that I have always been taught that we are supposed to be striving to be Godly in every single way. So it would seem to me that if we were given the chance to understand Divine justice, wisdom, logic, rulings and God, that is a chance we ought to take, something that would epitomize what a human being is trying to do! But Rabbi Sacks says no; we were placed on this earth to be human and we are supposed to be gloriously human and not to strive to become or be God. Yes, in certain ways we should imitate God, but we must never forget the glorious differences that make us human- the fact that we create yeish m'yeish, that we live and breathe, that we are fallible and can commit errors. We were placed on this earth to be human, not to attempt to be God.
Of course, with this idea comes questions, however. If Moses truly turned his face so that he could continue being human, moved by every cry and every sorrow, why is it that later he appeals to God to reveal His ways and divine justice to him?
יח וַיֹּאמַר: הַרְאֵנִי נָא, אֶת-כְּבֹדֶךָ. 18 And he said: 'Show me, I pray Thee, Thy glory.'
יט וַיֹּאמֶר, אֲנִי אַעֲבִיר כָּל-טוּבִי עַל-פָּנֶיךָ, וְקָרָאתִי בְשֵׁם יְהוָה, לְפָנֶיךָ; וְחַנֹּתִי אֶת-אֲשֶׁר אָחֹן, וְרִחַמְתִּי אֶת-אֲשֶׁר אֲרַחֵם. 19
And He said: 'I will make all My goodness pass before thee, and will proclaim the name of the LORD before thee; and I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy.'
כ וַיֹּאמֶר, לֹא תוּכַל לִרְאֹת אֶת-פָּנָי: כִּי לֹא-יִרְאַנִי הָאָדָם, וָחָי. 20
And He said: 'Thou canst not see My face, for man shall not see Me and live.'
~Exodus 33: 18-20
Why would Moses want to suddenly accept God's justice with equanimity, which would potentially result in his being unmoved by the plight of humans, when formerly he had protested it?
On the other hand, the famous story with Elijah and Rabbi Joshua ben Levi (see: GOD'S JUSTICE VINDICATED here) does suggest that Rabbi Sacks' idea is correct. Elijah, who understands God's ways and in fact carries them out within the framework of this story, expresses no pain at the fact that he has killed the poor people's cow, builds up a cruel rich man's wall, and otherwise does things that seem unfair. At each occurrence, Rabbi Joshua ben Levi is wholly astonished, and unable to hold himself back, begs Elijah for an explanation, even though he knows they must then part ways. Elijah explains how each of these actions was actually divine justice. However, from the human perspective and the human point of view, we are right for being astonished and upset, for thinking that the poor man has gotten the bad end of the deal when the cow is killed. That is who we are, who God created us to be. Had someone caught Elijah killing that cow, he would have been tried and would have had to pay for the animal according to the rules of the human court system, and that would have been right and proper for us to do- because that's the role we are supposed to play as humans.
Thus, to have heeded the Bas Kol declaring the Oven of Aknai to be tahor would be to stake out the domain of the Divine when we are meant to live in the domain of the human, when it is not our role to be Godly and not even something we are supposed to strive for! To feel compassion and sorrow for all creatures who are oppressed, to not accept the world with equanimity and claim that God's having a plan is the reason we do so, to be upset, moved and emotionally shaken by our encounter with life- that is our task. We should be human! At least, that is the answer that R' Sacks posits, and it's the best one I've heard thus far.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Affirmation
Whenever you're sad, or otherwise are having a difficult day, you should listen to "Affirmation" by Savage Garden, because it's a really upbeat, happy song with hopeful lyrics. And it'll make you feel a little better.
I believe the sun should never set upon an argument
I believe we place our happiness in other people's hands
I believe that junk food tastes so good because it's bad for you
I believe your parents did the best job they knew how to do
I believe that beauty magazines promote low self-esteem
I believe I'm loved when I'm completely by myself alone
I believe in Karma what you give is what you get returned
I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned
I believe the grass is no more greener on the other side
I believe you don't know what you've got until you say goodbye
I believe you can't control or choose your sexuality
I believe that trust is more important than monogamy
I believe your most attractive features are your heart and soul
I believe that family is worth more than money or gold
I believe the struggle for financial freedom is unfair
I believe the only ones who disagree are millionaires
I believe in Karma what you give is what you get returned
I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned
I believe the grass is no more greener on the other side
I believe you don't know what you've got until you say goodbye
I believe forgiveness is the key to your unhappiness
I believe that wedded bliss negates the need to be undressed
I believe that God does not endorse TV evangelists
I believe in love surviving death into eternity
I believe in Karma what you give is what you get returned
I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned
I believe the grass is no more greener on the other side
I believe you don't know what you've got until you say goodbye
[repeat ]
I believe the sun should never set upon an argument
I believe we place our happiness in other people's hands
I believe that junk food tastes so good because it's bad for you
I believe your parents did the best job they knew how to do
I believe that beauty magazines promote low self-esteem
I believe I'm loved when I'm completely by myself alone
I believe in Karma what you give is what you get returned
I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned
I believe the grass is no more greener on the other side
I believe you don't know what you've got until you say goodbye
I believe you can't control or choose your sexuality
I believe that trust is more important than monogamy
I believe your most attractive features are your heart and soul
I believe that family is worth more than money or gold
I believe the struggle for financial freedom is unfair
I believe the only ones who disagree are millionaires
I believe in Karma what you give is what you get returned
I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned
I believe the grass is no more greener on the other side
I believe you don't know what you've got until you say goodbye
I believe forgiveness is the key to your unhappiness
I believe that wedded bliss negates the need to be undressed
I believe that God does not endorse TV evangelists
I believe in love surviving death into eternity
I believe in Karma what you give is what you get returned
I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned
I believe the grass is no more greener on the other side
I believe you don't know what you've got until you say goodbye
[repeat ]
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
The Last Observer
Well folks, we've reached that amazing time of year. I have published The Last Observer (reference: Sara's 'The Last Doll' in A Little Princess) and here is what it contains...
As usual, we have a themed Features section. This time, the Features section is focused on the topic of abuse, whether it be emotional, verbal, physical, sexual and so forth. Among our articles we have an extremely comprehensive interview with Rabbi Yosef Blau on Sexual Abuse in the Orthodox Community, a clear and thorough description of different kinds of abuse, a review of a film about domestic violence in the Orthodox Jewish community, and many more valuable, relevant articles.
In News, we have an expose all about Revel, the Graduate School of Jewish Studies, and absolutely everything that will be taking place there in the future. Then there was a fascinating talk delivered here by two well-known New York Times columnists, David Brooks & Gail Collins, on Obama's first 100 days. And for the scholarly folks, here's a very thorough delineation of new trends in biblical scholarship.
In opinions, we have the bold analysis of a debate about human trafficking under the title "It is Wrong to Pay for Sex," a lament about the Hebrew department, and a lady who is anti-bailouts, among others.
We have a fascinating interview with Rinat Gutman, an Orthodox Jewish female...rapper?
And then, last but not least, thanks to the entire staff, the purpose of life, and an introduction to next year's Editor-in-Chief!
As usual, we have a themed Features section. This time, the Features section is focused on the topic of abuse, whether it be emotional, verbal, physical, sexual and so forth. Among our articles we have an extremely comprehensive interview with Rabbi Yosef Blau on Sexual Abuse in the Orthodox Community, a clear and thorough description of different kinds of abuse, a review of a film about domestic violence in the Orthodox Jewish community, and many more valuable, relevant articles.
In News, we have an expose all about Revel, the Graduate School of Jewish Studies, and absolutely everything that will be taking place there in the future. Then there was a fascinating talk delivered here by two well-known New York Times columnists, David Brooks & Gail Collins, on Obama's first 100 days. And for the scholarly folks, here's a very thorough delineation of new trends in biblical scholarship.
In opinions, we have the bold analysis of a debate about human trafficking under the title "It is Wrong to Pay for Sex," a lament about the Hebrew department, and a lady who is anti-bailouts, among others.
We have a fascinating interview with Rinat Gutman, an Orthodox Jewish female...rapper?
And then, last but not least, thanks to the entire staff, the purpose of life, and an introduction to next year's Editor-in-Chief!
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Be Amused...Be Very Amused
So I am invited to all sorts of hot parties and bashes and Purim galas, not on my own merit but because one or another of my friends is cool, but this one is particularly amusing:
Hey Everyone,
May ____ is just around the corner and I wanted to remind everyone that the party is ____ at 10:30 at Stir, located on the Upper East Side. You don't have to be attending the YU senior dinner, or even be a YU student to come (although I'm sure the dinner will be thoroughly enjoyable). Make sure to bring your ID because they DO card. Here are the drink specials:
2 for 1 bud/bud light
$5 Cosmos
$6 Well Drinks
$6 Wines by the glass
$9 Martinis
We're going to have a good turn out, so if you're interested in having a fun time with your friends (and possibly make some new friends), then make sure you come out!
Hope to see you all there!
*
On a scale of 1-10, how likely is it that I would attend this party?
Aside from which, anyone who knows me at all knows I only drink White Russians, Champagne & Black Muscat. Anything else is for the plebeians ;)
Hey Everyone,
May ____ is just around the corner and I wanted to remind everyone that the party is ____ at 10:30 at Stir, located on the Upper East Side. You don't have to be attending the YU senior dinner, or even be a YU student to come (although I'm sure the dinner will be thoroughly enjoyable). Make sure to bring your ID because they DO card. Here are the drink specials:
2 for 1 bud/bud light
$5 Cosmos
$6 Well Drinks
$6 Wines by the glass
$9 Martinis
We're going to have a good turn out, so if you're interested in having a fun time with your friends (and possibly make some new friends), then make sure you come out!
Hope to see you all there!
*
On a scale of 1-10, how likely is it that I would attend this party?
Aside from which, anyone who knows me at all knows I only drink White Russians, Champagne & Black Muscat. Anything else is for the plebeians ;)
falling is just a point of view
I write the quiet on my skin
the words take time to sink within
lost within the silence, I
struggle to relearn how to fly
I had my wings since I was born
lost them as I felt forlorn
but my song is one that carries on
I have the strength to greet the dawn
~
I think this is the most important thing I have learned this year. Falling is only ever a point of view.
the words take time to sink within
lost within the silence, I
struggle to relearn how to fly
I had my wings since I was born
lost them as I felt forlorn
but my song is one that carries on
I have the strength to greet the dawn
~
I think this is the most important thing I have learned this year. Falling is only ever a point of view.
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