The Evolving Jew

In the New York Times a couple of days ago, Paul Krugman  writes : “Back in the 1950s three social psychologists joined a cult that was predicting the imminent end of the world. Their purpose was to observe the cultists’ response when the world did not, in fact, end on schedule. What they discovered, and described in their classic book, “When Prophecy Fails,” is that the irrefutable failure of a prophecy does not cause true believers — people who have committed themselves to a belief both emotionally and by their life choices — to reconsider. On the contrary, they become even more fervent, and proselytize even harder.” The rest of his column is about the “fiscal cliff”. But the part above is relevant to every eschatological prediction in Judaism. There have been many dates when Mashiach was predicted to arrive. When he didn’t, Jews just figured that hadn’t been worthy and believed in the next date, be it 5. 15, or 150 years in the future, and that the geulah would occur then.

It’s that time of year again tonight – Nitl Nacht! (Or at least it was last night, when I meant to post this.) Silent night – that is without the learning of Torah. What is Nitl Nacht? Where did it come from? I recently listened online to a lecture by Marc Shapiro and ended up giving small class in my neighborhood about Nitl Nacht and some related topics. Here’s some of what I said. I took most of it from the Marc Shapiro lecture, but some is also from Dovbear ( here  and  here ), Miriam Shaviv ( here ), the Seforim blog ( here ), and Hirhurim ( here ). I can’t seem to find where I downloaded the audio of Marc Shapiro’s lecture from, but I suspect that the lecture was mostly the same as what he wrote in ”Torah Study on Christmas Eve,”  Journal of Jewish Thought and Philosophy  8 (1999), (which I didn’t read, due to the $40 price tag associated with downloading it.) So what is Nitl Nacht? Well, basically, it’s a traditional approach to Christmas eve among most Chassidim, in tha

This past Monday evening, August 6th, I attended the Modern Orthodox Siyum Hashas which was held at the Spanish & Potugese Synagogue on the Upper West Side. All in all, it was a beautiful and inspiring evening. There was no sense of “We’re modern & proud!”, just a sincere celebration of Limud Torah. Everyone was handed a program as they came in, together with a sample of the new Koren English Talmud, which contained the first few pages Masechet Brachot, I think up to Daf 8. I flipped through it and I have to say I’m quite impressed. There were several hundred participants – I’m terrible at judging crowds, so don’t ask me how many exactly. I was pleasantly surprised to see a handful of Chasidim at the Siyum. There were three 40-minute time slots, each filled with a choice of several lectures. The ones I attended were all excellent. The one I enjoyed most was by Wendy Amsellem, a brilliant young woman who teaches at Drisha.  She very animatedly taught about the evoluti

It’s about control. Control of a particular lifestyle in the face of increased freedoms for women in the secular world. Control over women’s bodies when their minds are being set free. Control when women are getting college degrees and men are emasculated sitting in kollel all day. It’s about trying to say “look, I’m a man, and I’m in charge!”, when they clearly are losing that traditional control. It’s about saying to women that they’re just a bunch of female parts, and that’s ALL they are, reaffirming frum men’s notions that they are the masters of the Jewish universe. Comments from old blog: Shira Salamone July 30, 2012 at 1:41 pm |  #1 Reply  |  Quote  |  Edit Here, here! Not to mention  see here . Abacaxi Mamao July 30, 2012 at 2:32 pm |  #2 Reply  |  Quote  |  Edit Of course. Jessica July 30, 2012 at 4:54 pm |  #3 Reply  |  Quote  |  Edit Agreed. frum single female July 31, 2012 at 7:03 pm | 

I’m a big fan of teshuva, if teshuva means optimistically looking ahead and planning to be more engaged in the things that make Judaism meaningful for me, as well as resolving to be a better friend, husband, and overall human being. But personally, I see no emotional benefit to wallowing in guilt and feeling bad about myself, nor do I see any value in feeling bad that I didn’t live my life in adherence to strict interpretations of religious rules that don’t make me happy or a better person. Comments from old blog: Azi (@azigra) July 19, 2012 at 9:04 am |  #1 Reply  |  Quote  |  Edit I was looking at that picture from the funeral yesterday of a little kid crying hysterically. I thought there is no way this kid should feel this sad or emotional about the death of someone who was likely already out of it by the time he was born. It occured to me that this is what he was trained to do. It was ingrained in him that Elyashiv was a great man and his absence will affect

My  last post , on how I find Judaism meaningful, even if I believe that much of the basic facts are mythology, (and where I mentioned Rabbi Akiva), elicited this response, from Yitz: I’m probably too literal-minded, but what value could Rabi Akiva have to you if he was lying about Moshe Rabbeinu’s existence? From what you say, either: 1. Rabi Akiva was misguided and falsely believed Moshe Rabbeinu existed. 2. Rabi Akiva knowingly deceived people because it was for their own benefit. or 3. Rabi Akiva wasn’t sure about Moshe Rabbeinu, but like you, thought Judaism had enough to offer that perhaps it was worth it to perpetuate and evolve Judaism into something better for people. Either way it seems you have a relatively low opinion of Rabi Akiva, or a relatively high opinion of yourself. (In the most optimistic scenario (3), you are his equal, in the worst scenario (1) you are smarter than he.) My response: Of your choices, I’d have to pick #1, sort of. Why on earth would yo

I don’t have much of a relationship with God the individual, per se, but I do have a strong relationship with spirituality. Part of the problem is that I don’t believe that the Torah is divine, though I’d like to think it has divinity in some of the parts that ended up making it into the composite document. And it seems unlikely that many of the events in the Torah really happened or that many of the characters really existed. So what does that leave God to do? Create the universe, I guess – set in motion the grand 14 billion year old symphony of the cosmos. I believe in God, but in a rather abstract way. But I DO believe in Judaism. And in spirituality. When singing zmirot on Shabbat, or studying an amazingly fascinating piece of gemara, I feel connected to 3,000 years of our history in a very deep & meaningful way. I may think it unlikely that Moshe Rabbeinu really existed, but Rabbi Akiva almost certainly did exist. So did Rambam. And so did 100 generations of our ancesto