Who Knows Thirteen?

I live in a building that has no 13th floor. And the hospital where I take a clinical course also has no 13th floor. Obviously this isn't because the buildings are short, but rather because of the common superstitious fear of the number thirteen. They go right from 12 to 14. This always struck me as rather amusing given that from a Jewish perspective 13 is actually a good number. Think Bar Mitzvah, 13 Attributes of God, 613 mitzvot and even the Rambam's 13 Principles of Faith.

Anyway, I just found out recently that in some East Asian nations the number 4 is feared. (Though, again, Judaism has a number of positive connotations for the number 4. Are there any bad numbers in Judaism?) This is because the Chinese, Japanese, and Korean words for four also sound like the word for death. So buildings in those countries tend to likewise skip floors 4, 14, 24, etc.

And then I saw this picture (from wiki) which made me laugh. It's from an elevator in a building in Shanghai, which is apparently a melting pot of the world's superstitions:

Mishe Mishe Mishenichnas Adar

Will Lipa still be able to sing this song?

James Kugel on Orthopraxy

DH: I just finished "The God of Old" and found it to be an enlightening, if rather speculative, insight into the Biblical minds of old. I also intend on reading your newest work when I get the opportunity.

But the real reason I'm writing you is not for the quality of your work ... but of the curious juxtaposition of it to your ostensible Orthodoxy. Frankly, I do not understand how the same man who intellectually deconstructs the very human pathways that lead to modern Orthodox Judaism can at the same time hold belief in their immutable correctness. I do not mean to sound accusatory in the least - and I know you probably already get flak from all directions about this - but is what you really believe "Orthodox" as you could find described in some dictionary or recognized rabbinical treatise, or rather is it a kind of self-styled religious philosophy that maintains *Orthopraxy* as proper Jewish behavior?

That may be mere splitting of hairs for some, but as I am an individual who (I think, like you) is very interested in maintaining traditional Jewish observance, I am struck by the gross untenability of typical Orthodox beliefs in the face of modern scholarship from numerous fields. I should also mention that I was raised Modern Orthodox and have maintained general observance even while my philosophical and scholarly thoughts have strayed, as it were. The great trick of course would be how to open the eyes of so many of our observant co-religionists without prompting disillusionment and a tumbling of the Halachic system - assuming such a feat were even possible and assuming we ought to even be interested in carrying out such philosophical revolutions.

In the meantime, as I count myself among the "Orthodox" as a sociological identity, I often encounter difficulties where what I have learned through modern scholarship contradict established tradition. Indeed, when the Torah is raised at hagbah, should I say along with the congregation that “This is the Torah that Moses placed before the people of Israel at the command of the Lord through Moses”? Clearly modern Bible scholars like yourself would say that even if Moshe did write a Torah, the modern Pentateuch we have raised before us is not it.

I'm not exactly sure what I am asking of you here and it may even be inappropriate (and if so, then you have my apologies) but how do you engage the philosophical difficulties that lie between living our traditional observances and the generally poorly informed beliefs of so many whom we observe them with? Is there a philosophical or theological or sociological endpoint to seek or should each man merely find their place between skepticism and traditionalism and hope the great Jewish masses will one day raise their minds from the merely Medieval?

Practically, how much does traditional Judaism need to adapt so to honestly assimilate these intellectual elephants sitting in the living room? In ironic form, can these elephants become kosher?


JK: Well, that is the question. I did try to address it in a few pages of the last chapter of HOW TO READ THE BIBLE, but judging by people's reaction, I obviously need to do more. (I didn't go into more detail there because that book is not really aimed at Orthodox Jews, or even Jews in general, and it is not, despite what a lot of my correspondents seem to think, a kind of personal confession. It's really a book about the Bible.)

I suppose the longer answer that I might write some day would start by saying that I really don't buy into the distinction between "Orthodoxy" and "Orthopraxy" that you, and a lot of other people, invoke. An Orthodox Jew isn't just someone with the right "doxy," the right ideas; you wouldn't call someone "Orthodox" who sincerely believes that the Torah was given by God to Moses on Mount Sinai and fervently upholds his faith in the resurrection of the dead etc., but who does not keep Shabbat or the rules of kosher food.

In a subtler way, I think the opposite is also true. I've heard lately from a lot of people who say that they like the "Orthodox life style," but that they are only "Orthoprax" and not "Orthodox." I hope that's not really true. As you know, Judaism is notoriously long on deeds and short on doctrine; still, I can't imagine that any such "Orthopraxy" can be pursued in the long run by someone who doesn't have some basic belief in H' and in the connection between that belief and all the "deeds" of his or her Orthopraxy.

Rather, I think what such people mean is that they have difficulty accepting one or another of the traditional teachings of Judaism: they are bothered by what you call the “gross untenability of typical Orthodox beliefs in the face of modern scholarship from numerous fields.” I certainly understand what you, and they, mean. It seems intellectually dishonest to – if I can reverse the contemporary cliché -- walk the walk (not a bad way of referring in English to keeping the halakhah) while at the same time mumbling when it comes time to talk the talk, that is, affirming those traditional beliefs that seem to clash with modern knowledge. So what to do?

You may say I’m chickening out, but I’ve always been a fairly conservative person, certainly when it comes to throwing off traditional teachings (though some of my readers may doubt this). I would never want to announce to anyone, “Forget about that mitzvah,” or, by the same token, “This specific belief isn’t really important.” I think history teaches that people who start down the road of public rejection of this or that specific thing rarely stop there.

But history does have another lesson, and that’s the one I would highlight. Most of the “creedal statements” of Judaism were originally made in opposition to something or someone. That is, the very enterprise of formulating the "musts" of Jewish belief in rabbinic times arose out of doctrinal differences among the various Jewish groups that flourished before 70 C.E., or later on, as a result of the rise of certain changes in the Jewish world (Karaism, e. g.) or the world in general. The point of these affirmations of belief often was: If you want to be with "us," you can't uphold what "they" say or do. But situations do change, and so do (eventually) the things people feel it essential to assert. As I'm sure you know, the Mishnah (perek Helek) specifies a few things that Jews are to believe in or lose their portion in the world to come. The list of essential beliefs was considerably expanded when Maimonides (not unopposed) introduced his Thirteen Principles. After his time, other things did get added from time to time (creatio ex nihilo, for example, or free will), while some of the earlier items were dropped. You might look at the wonderful article by the late Professor Alexander Altmann,"Articles of Faith," in the Encyclopedia Judaica. So certainly one lesson of history is that at least some of these affirmations were not written in stone.

Added to this is what history teaches about the actual application of various orthodoxies to real life. Even when things don’t change de jure, they sometimes change de facto. For example, that same chapter in the Mishnah says a Jew must not read from the "sefarim ha-hitzonim," and even if the Mishnah doesn't say exactly what those books are, it seems likely that that rubric includes at least some of the writings studied in courses currently given by Orthodox professors at Yeshiva University or Bar Ilan; indeed, a number of Orthodox posekim have explicitly ruled that this prohibition is no longer in effect, because times have changed. This is, I admit, a fairly small example of what you call “the Jewish masses rais[ing] their minds from the merely medieval,” but it did happen. (We’re talking about doctrine; I’m sure you can think of numerous examples in the domain of halakhah lema’aseh.) On a somewhat different plane, the use of
amulets (kame'ot) for quasi-magical purposes, or the attribution ofmagical powers to mezuzot -- both of which, I’m afraid, are quite common in Israel today -- suggest beliefs that are clearly at odds with Jewish doctrine as formulated in the Torah, Mishnah, and by numerous later authorities. But these things do go on, and they are actually almost never denounced as heretical; in fact, they are espoused and practiced by prominent rabbinic figures. So I'm not sure that, in any descriptive (rather than prescriptive) definition of Orthodox Judaism, all required and prohibited beliefs are treated equally.

In saying all this, I'm not looking for a back door out of what I take to be Judaism's basic doctrine about the Torah, namely, "Torah min ha-shamayim." There's nothing in my book (or in me) that denies that belief. As I've written several times, words are words, and there is no litmus test that modern biblical scholars could ever perform to determine that this word was divinely inspired and that word was not. But in my book I did try to put the whole doctrine of a divinely-given Torah in a somewhat different perspective, which, since you say you haven’t yet read the book, I might summarize here:

What I tried to show was that, at a certain point within the biblical period, the religion of Israel suddenly changed (I would say "as if by revelation," except that I don't mean the "as if"). Now, "avodat H'" was no longer principally understood as the offering of korbanot in the
Temple, but the keeping of God's numerous laws. This is evident within the Bible itself, and the trajectory of avodat H' as presented in the Torah carries over into all the later stages of Judaism, even in such perfectly human activities as writing piskei halakhah (or, for that matter, formulating lists of required beliefs). Keeping the mitzvot is the way that Jews seek to reach out to H', and I would make no exception in this for people who define themselves as "Orthoprax." It can't just be a matter of lifestyle.

So... The point of this rather long-winded answer is that people who devote themselves fully to keeping the mitzvot are, at least by my definition, Orthodox in the true sense of the word: they have grasped what is essential in Judaism, avodat H', and they are living it. All those mitzvot have a single trajectory, from the Torah itself through centuries and centuries of human interpreters, the makers of midrash halakhah and aggadah, takkanot and gezerot shavot and piskei halakhah, down to the present day. I think someone who truly understands this will not be troubled by the things you mention.

Barbs in Your Eyes, Thorns in Your Sides

Alright, here were are again in July 2006. Hundreds of rockets are being shot indiscriminately at Israeli civilians from Islamic terrorists from lands recently vacated by Israeli troops. The UN, EU, Muslim countries, watchdog groups, the Pope and your leftist mother are clamoring to morally undermine Israel and her absolute right to defend herself by tying Israel's arms behind her back with calls for proportionate response and an immediate end to the violence.

How typical. Where the hell were these people for the last forever when Hamas was doing its best to provoke Israel by targeting civilians with these rockets? "Suck it up" they say to Israel. How tolerant do you think any other country in the world would be to a constant barrage of rockets falling on their border towns? Double standard BS.

This endless fighting with Gaza and Hamas is deeply absurd. You let Hamas fire endlessly at Israeli citizens and the Gazans celebrate Hamas for fighting against the Zionists and Israelis die. If you fight back against Hamas then Israeli soldiers die in the fighting, Hamas militants hide among the civilians, Gazan civilians die, the people rally around Hamas for fighting for them and world opinion turns on Israel. Hamas has no interest in building a Palestinian nation. They love anarchy and destruction because it only fuels their power and ability to harm Israel.

What the hell are you supposed to do with these kinds of people?

It's times like these that I am sorely tempted by ideas that involve transferring the Gazan population somewhere else. I don't care where, but if these people can't live peacefully next door then why should Israel have to tolerate them? What kind of world is this? At no other place or time in history has a weaker party been the aggressor with such aplomb. They fear no real consequences because the world won't let there be any. And they call it a Holocaust! The world not just allows, but actively enables this conflict to fester and fester.


"This is what the LORD says: 'For three sins of Gaza, even for four, I will not turn back my wrath . Because she took captive whole communities and sold them to Edom, I will send fire upon the walls of Gaza that will consume her fortresses.'" - Amos 1:6-7

On the Question of Meaning

Littlefoxling wrote a recent post on the issue of meaning and I've been giving it some thought of late. (Not that I have the time for this and it is eating away at my studying, but that help explains why I'm writing this post at 2 am.)

Essentially you have two general approaches to finding meaning in life. The first is for meaning to be found in something bigger than oneself. This includes the classic religious approach where meaning is found in being a part of God's master plan and each of us have a mission in life for which we were specifically created. We also see this in the more secular nationalism or humanism where the good for society or humanity in toto is the good to which one's life is given meaning. It is in service to the public good to which our life is worthwhile. These two aspects are not incompatible and indeed we often see political leaders (Republicans typically) who invoke their belief that their public service is their place in God's plan or that they sought to serve the public because they believed they could further God's plan.

The second approach for meaning seekers is introverted and is the classic view of existential philosophy. They say that the rest of the world is impossible to value objectively and therefore obtaining a sense of meaning from a valueless externality is hopeless - vanity, as it were. So the Existentialists seek to understand themselves as subjective beings and best authenticate their lives with integrity. I am who I am and being true to myself is the meaning of my existence.

It's interesting how both of these paths are essentially non-materialistic, if well applied. Seeking God's will or the common good obviously transcends the immediate desires for creature comforts, but even existential authentication retreats from "selling out" or becoming an empty cog in the machine. If you are familiar with the movie Fight Club or Randian protagonists, you may recognize this theme. But I'm not trying to intimate that one path leads to global prosperity and the other to violent anarchy, but that both depends on the underlying ideas behind these theories. If God is good then finding meaning through God will lead to good. If you find your authentic existence is to be a good person then it too will lead to good. These may both be reversed if you're contemplating joining Al Qaeda.

Anyway, it could be that both of these approaches have their places and that some synthesis can be made of them. To put the meaning of one's life completely on the other empties one's personal experience, but to lean wholly on the subjective leaves one contextless and lost. Classically: "If I am only for myself, then what am I?"

So I would encourage self-investigation and being true to oneself because ultimately we each walk down life alone and it is only through that path that one can find out who they are and what matters to them. This is the soul of man. But I also say that some faith in the meaningfulness of our surroundings and the human condition is not out of place. Although some are skeptical, I do not believe that our existence is an accident. And from that realization comes the conclusion that we hold some honored place in the grand scheme of things. Whether there's a mindful Schemer or a non-conscious Orderer is not so important as much as our place in the order of things. From this follows the valuation of human beings and human interests generally.

Mickey Mouse Rabbi

I just found out recently about this guy on the left. I was by my friend's house and a small picture of him was taped on the wall. Apparently he, the Grand Rabbi Yeshaya Steiner of Kerestir, has the amazing ability to bless homes that display his likeness with a segulah to keep away mice! (Though ironically while I was there - I actually did see a mouse!)



How this is foundationally different from Catholics and their semi-avodah zara patron saints of whatever is a distinction lost to me.

Give Gaza to Egypt?

Daniel Pipes yesterday came out with an article saying that the Hamasian border breaking fiasco should be used as an opportunity to change the whole Gaza equation and return the territory to the way it was ruled from 1948-67 - i.e. basically ruled by Egypt.

He writes:

Washington and other capitals should declare the experiment in Gazan self-rule a failure and press President Hosni Mubarak of Egypt to help, perhaps providing Gaza with additional land or even annexing it as a province. This would revert to the situation of 1948-67, except this time Cairo would not keep Gaza at arm’s length but take responsibility for it.

Culturally, this connection is a natural: Gazans speak a colloquial Arabic identical to the Egyptians of Sinai, have more family ties to Egypt than to the West Bank, and are economically more tied to Egypt (recall the many smugglers’ tunnels). Further, Hamas derives from an Egyptian organization, the Muslim Brotherhood. As David Warren of the Ottawa Citizen notes, calling Gazans “Palestinians” is less accurate than politically correct.

Why not formalize the Egyptian connection? Among other benefits, this would (1) end the rocket fire against Israel, (2) expose the superficiality of Palestinian nationalism, an ideology under a century old, and perhaps (3) break the Arab-Israeli logjam.

See, the idea has a certain elegance - and in fact I had a friend mention the same idea days before Pipes' article - but even if it were at all feasable (since I'm fairly certain Egypt has no interest in Gaza as such, with a million-plus poor and radical people along with a well-armed group of religious extremists) I'm not sure it's the greatest idea. I think a main reason peace has been maintained with Egypt for the last 30 years is due directly to the Sinai being demilitarized and Israel and Egypt keeping each other at arm's length.

Suppose Egypt does take responsibility of Gaza - won't that necessarily involve Israel giving up airspace, freedom of travel and the ability for Egypt to bring up loads of troops to police the territory? Is it really in Israel's interest for Egypt to have that kind of presence right along the Israeli border?

But even besides that, do we really believe that Egypt will be more successful than Israel at controlling rocket attacks from Gaza? And when they fail - what is Israel to do? Ask really nicely? Actually threaten Egypt? The modern Egyptian military is a real force to be reckoned with. One of the largest in the world and now armed with up-to-date American and European equipment. I think we should keep our distance.

How the current crisis is going to resolve itself however is a real mystery. There are reports of Hamas putting up their flags in Egyptian towns - an act Egyptians see as an attack on their sovereignty. Is Egypt prepared to use actual force against Gazan militants? (Which I'm not sure they can even do, due to troop restrictions in the Sinai from the '79 peace agreement.) Or are we going to see a growing Hamastan in the northern Sinai? Does anyone believe that the Gazans are really all just going to pack up and go home quietly?

Neglecting God

A few months ago from my studies I was told of a fascinating, though rather rare disorder of the mind - hemispatial neglect syndrome. This can occur when a person might have a huge stroke to one side of their brain and the consequence is a total lack of awareness to one side of reality. This may not sound so surprising, but you have to realize that I'm not talking about losing the ability to perceive space - like how damage to your visual cortex can cause blindness - but about the very human comprehension that there is more world on your left side.

Depending on the form of the disorder, if you tell these people to draw a copy of a clock face, you can see that it might go from 12 to 6 and totally lack the other numbers or they might try cramming all twelve into one side. They will only comb one side of their hair, will only shave half their face, will only read pages on one side of a book and will actually deny that one of their arms belongs to them! Even in their imaginations, if you tell them to recount the view of a famous street they will only report the buildings on one side. (Though if you tell them to walk up the street rather than down it, they will report only the buildings on the other side.)

This kind of disorder makes us uncomfortably aware of our own fragility, of course, but also tells us about the functions of our own awareness. It's a little unnerving to think about one's awareness of external space being tied so directly to the physical function of one's brain. It seems impossible that I could forget that half the world exists, that my left arm is my own, even if I suffered terrible trauma. I mean, I could easily see the other half of the world if I turned my head, so what would keep my from realizing it's there? I don't have eyes in the back of my head, but I am aware the universe extends behind me. These patients often don't even realize there is anything wrong with them! Even in cases where there is no sensory loss at all, this ability for awareness can be terribly affected.

Anyway, this is all fascinating, sure - but the reason I bring it up is for how it's treated. What is done for the patient is to constantly bring their attention to the affected side. For reading, if you put a red line on the margin the patient will know that he has to keep looking to the side until he sees that line in order to read the whole page. Playing catch and throwing the ball to their left side. Things of this nature to constantly encourage the patient to keep engaging the left side of the universe, directing his consciousness beyond what he perceives. Eventually, though how remains a mystery, the healthy brain tissue may take on some of the skills of the damaged brain and awareness can be extended on the side.

But the point is that these little exercises may seem absolutely pointless and strange to the patient. He doesn't necessarily think he's missing anything on his left - there's nothing there - so why should he cooperate with these kooky therapists? Even if they accept that they're missing half of reality, patients are often simply uninterested in it.

This is analogous, I think, to the function that apparently weird and pointless religious rituals can have for people. Judaism is full of chukim with rules and rituals that appear absurd to the secular and a source of amusement for the cynical. But they are not pointless. Their purpose, as opposed to the sensible moral laws or the rules that encourage benefits to the family, society or the environment, is but to be a service for God. What this means is that they are tools for stretching our consciousness beyond what we are normally aware of as far as physical reality goes, to see transcendence and ultimate value where we might otherwise see nothing. They are vehicles by which our awareness can transcend beyond merely what we see with our eyes.

Indeed, if chukim actually served a utilitarian purpose - like that kashrut was healthy - I believe it would actually completely remove it's power as a religious act. The whole mechanism by which our thoughts are raised by these acts is through being inscrutable. A utilitarian act drives no more thought beyond understanding its utility. That we understand the acts to be as if commanded by God drives our thoughts towards God.

We are born unconscious to the great noumenon beyond our senses, but through these exercises perhaps we can gain some sense of it - or at least drive our consciousness towards it. Others may be satisfied without it and still others may not believe it exists at all, but maybe they along with those patients with neglect syndrome just have no idea what they're missing.

Best Age Difference for Husband and Wife?

By marrying a woman 15 years younger, preindustrial Sami men maximized their surviving offspring
By David Biello

Men marry younger women and women prefer to marry older men, in general. But is it culture, genetics or the environment that drives such a choice—and is there an optimal age difference? New research shows that, at least for the Sami people of preindustrial Finland, men should marry a woman almost 15 years their junior to maximize their chances of having the most offspring that survive.

"We studied how parental age difference at marriage affected [families'] reproductive success among Sami people who married only once in their lifetime[s]," says ecologist Samuli Helle of the University of Turku in Finland. "We found that marrying women 14.6 years younger maximized men's lifetime reproductive success—in other words, the number of offspring surviving to age 18."


Ah, so them Sephardis may have a method to their madness... It's not unusual for Sephardic girls to get married before they're done with highschool - to guys in their 30s.

Oh, what's in a name?

I'm being troubled lately by the huge imposition which the label of "Orthodox" implies. It's true that I've typically used it on my blog to refer to the standard (little c) conservative system of belief, but that actually may be unfair to the rather sizeable portion of people who may identify as Orthodox but do not hold to that system.

And then practically the issue is what ought I call myself. I don't like labels since they only serve to restrict your thinking, but I know I don't fit into any of the categories currently out there in the Jewish world. And I've never really had to worry about this for myself since I don't tend to publicize my views - but as time goes on, more and more curious people play the role of the clever detective and figure me out. So anyway, sure, I take some inspiration from R' Kaplan, but I'm no Reconstructionist. I take some from R' Heschel, but I doubt I would be comfortable in his shul. I take some from R' Soloveitchik and R' Feinstein, but surely with some reservations. I even take plenty from the likes of the Ramchal and the Rambam - but obviously not everything. So what am I?

Sometimes I (half) jest and call myself Post-Denominational. But that's next to meaningless. I also jest sometimes and call myself "Modern orthodox" (big M, small o). But truly speaking, I do suspect that the most accurate label for me might just be where I started from all that time ago, in those years before blogs. A grand Hegelian cycle. And that is Modern Orthodox. Sure, not in the same half-understood sense that I thought back then, but in the truer sense of what Modern Orthodoxy theoretically holds itself to be - a no-holds barred engagement with modernity while maintaining our regular Halacha and traditions. (Though I am sympathetic to Yehudi Hilchati's notions on this topic.)

See, I believe, like so many others in the program of Judaism and the system of Halacha. True, I do take issue with a number of figures who hold positions of authority and some Halachic conclusions they've reached, but at the same time the system has proven the test of time and I'm in no position to buck it.

Now, is it a great label? No. And is there great contestation of what it means? Sure. But like all labels imposed on humankind, the true humans can only approximate into which groups they believe they sit.