Rabbi Adam Jacobs

Making Friends With My Grey Hair

2013-06-11T12:40:38-04:00

My big sister's hair went grey in her 30s
My little brother Eddie also went grey early
I was lucky that didn't happen to me
My hair was brown I was 43

But a few years later my hairdresser stared at my head
I'll never forget those words he said
'You've got to accept you've come to the day
Where you've got to admit your hair's going grey'

-- Christine Lavin

A few days ago I came across a series of pictures from an old college friend on Facebook who was attending our 20th reunion. The background looked awfully familiar and in fact turned out to be the quad where I spent my freshman year. It looked pretty much the same and brought on that odd nostalgic sense where on the one hand, you feel as though you could just waltz back into your dorm room and expect your friends to still be hanging out there, and on the other, the surreal realization that this experience was actually a very long time ago. My friend looked good, but different -- more along the lines of what I think my parents friends should look like. The face was familiar, but as though he had just stepped through a time-warp, he had a shock of grey hair. "Wow," I thought, "how did this happen?"

It's no secret that few people seem to enjoy the aging process and that we're willing to pony up vast amounts of time and treasure to pretend that we don't look the way we actually do. We seem to harbor a special disdain for the process that causes the loss of pigmentation on our heads. Consider the staggering resources we spend waging a futile struggle with our aging hair. Coloring can run anywhere between $60-$200 at a salon and needs to be touched up every six weeks or so. Over the course of a few decades, that's tens of thousands of dollars worth of chemicals to make us look a few years younger. (Coloring is obviously just part of a mélange of expensive body alterations including: botox, liposuction, face-lifts, breast implants, eyelid surgery and the like.) Unfortunately, like getting a nice new couch that makes the rest of your living room look shabby, changing one feature can often emphasize that which has remained the same, with new lines and roundness offsetting the luxurious young locks. Eventually, it's akin to a one-hit wonder band that continues to milk its success from 1973: at a certain point, we just have to let certain things go. If we don't, we run the risk of never absorbing one of life's most critical messages -- one for which the body is an excellent teacher: That our time is limited, that there is very little "then" or "later" and if we're going to live life well with intention and meaning, now is an excellent time.

But when the body is not able to "speak" to us properly, issues develop.

For instance, when disease causes nerve damage and numbness in the limbs, it's easier for harmful mishaps to occur. Similarly, when we refuse to acknowledge (or cannot recognize) the messages our body sends us, we may find ourselves in trouble.

So, too, even with the seemingly benign graying process. It's part of the body's communication with us -- as if it wants us to get a particular message. Again, from a Jewish perspective, it's something like this: "Remember, you will not be here forever, so focus on what really matters."

King Solomon once wrote that it's better to go to a house of mourning than a house of feasting. This seems morose, even macabre, but it's not at all. Many people instinctively leave a funeral acutely conscious that their time is limited. Though the sentiment might only last for a few days or hours, it's ultimately a much more productive state of mind than the blissful (though fleeting) satisfaction that comes from time spent indulging.

To deny our aging, therefore, is to deprive ourselves of critical information that can focus our attention and yield deeper, lasting satisfactions. True perspective -- and, I'd argue true peace of mind -- can only come from an open and full embrace of reality. Otherwise, we wastefully expend energy in an elaborate ruse to keep our minds off of what that really is. Though it might not seem so, it's a difficult and painful way to live.

Most spiritual traditions teach that there is a soul, a non-corporeal consciousness, that is associated with our physical selves. Many of these traditions, Judaism included, also teach that the soul is not all that excited about coming into this word or having anything to do with the crude and lowly materialism of our plane of existence. Nonetheless, over time, it gets used to things and may even come to view itself as only a body and nothing more. Such souls have a hard time moving on. The Talmud teaches that there are 903 types of death. The worst is likened to pulling a thick string with a knot through a tiny hole, while the best is like scooping a hair out of some milk. The more attached we become to our bodies (an approach that one of my teachers described as "like investing in a stock you know will go down") the tougher it is for the soul to take its inevitable, ultimate journey. In this light, the aging process is actually a great kindness -- it loosens our attachment to the physical world, and in so doing assists in preparing us for the inevitable day of separation.

Start making friends with your grey hair
Don't be frightened don't be scared
It's here to stay it's not going anywhere
Start making friends with your grey hair...

An Open Letter to the Theist Community

2013-05-07T13:32:33-04:00

Dear fellow theists,

I once sat on a grassy hill in Jerusalem with a group of friends. On my left was a gorgeous expanse of desert rolling on toward the Dead Sea and the burning disk of the setting sun was just scraping the Golden Dome of the Old City on my right. Someone had a guitar. How better to enhance perfection than through song? The plucky young player readied his machine, shut his eyes to find his muse and burst into an appropriately earnest melody. It stunk, however -- big time. Not because he was insufficiently skilled or because the selection was poor, but because no one was into it and the moment was lost.

This is how I've felt in recent days as I consider the edifice of the religious endeavor in general. Not only is the tune good -- it's magnificent, the best that could be conceived -- but half of the chorus is bored and the others are just pretending to sing. OK, that was just said for effect. I know that the great majority of you are principled, happy, balanced and authentically spiritual -- you sing beautifully. But sadly, the ranks of our members who do not is swelling and the effects are wreaking havoc -- on individuals, families and communities. I know. I keep hearing about it -- anecdotally and in the popular press. Left unchecked it will metathesize and, like a nasty scratch on an old vinyl record, forever distort the good that could have been.

I have heard just one too many stories about hypocritical religious "leaders" who have shocked (and depressed) their flocks after their faux-piety is exposed for the screaming lie it is. I'm sure you have too. Do these people have any idea what narcissists they are? Do those that cover for them realize how perverse and sinister they are? To take bribes, cheat the innocent in corrupt business deals and indulge in extra-marital activities while having the temerity to lecture others about the virtues of scholarship, purity and character development is bad enough. To abuse children is utterly beyond the pale and needs to be loudly denounced for the evil it is. To not do so, or to engage in cover-ups and position the victims as the criminals is simply bizarre and as anti-God as you can get. How can people who affirm "justice, justice shall you pursue!" not fight that which is so obviously unjust? How can communities who claim to believe in "love your friend as yourself" be so unloving? Something has gone horribly wrong.

We need to redouble our efforts at home. Children can spot hypocrisy at 100 paces, and if you think that the notion of "do as I say and not as I do" will work after they have their driver's licenses (or even before), you are sorely mistaken. When you can so easily see the horrific effects of bad-parenting on so many -- their loneliness and lack of clarity, their lousy decision-making and their inability to develop healthy and intimate relationships -- how can you not cancel some of the evenings out, shorten the business trips and also seek couple's or family counseling where applicable? How can someone rightly be expected to connect to their "Father in Heaven" when they have a cruddy relationship with their material father? Parents are primal anchors and as creators, paradigms of Divinity. The responsibility is awesome. Parents: Do you realize that you represent love to your children? Do you understand that how they relate to your authority impacts how they relate to all authority -- including that of the Divine? Do you get that your fidelity is the model for theirs?

My friends, the good news is that we have the goods! We should be proud of our awareness of the most fundamental tenet in life - that there is an Infinite, Loving, Creative-force that brought all things into existence and continues to sustain them. There is no closeness to a non-material being outside of resemblance. To be close is to be alike. So if you want to be a spiritual person, if you want to be close to God -- then, act Godly. As such, we are obligated to conduct ourselves as fitting representatives -- to be ethical paragons. To be anything less is a desecration of God's name and though a whole group cannot fairly be judged by the actions a few, where there's smoke there's generally fire. A religious person must, at all times and in all places, conduct his or her self with the utmost decorum -- must exude humility, patience and compassion, must fight for justice, must speak pleasantly (and truthfully), must be uncompromisingly scrupulous in business dealings and absolutely must not disgrace himself through sexual infidelity.

The principles that we stand for have changed the world -- yes, for the better. All that is good in Western culture finds its root in classical monotheism and despite the histrionics of some of its detractors, will continue to be the quintessential force of light, justice, virtue and meaning until history runs its course. If our leaders are incapable of righting the societal wrongs then we must take the responsibility ourselves, as it says in the Mishna, "in a place where there is no leader -- strive to become a leader."

In the same way as you would never use a Stradivarius as a door stop or a Porsche as a plough, strive to not cause the masses to believe that authentic, transformational, brilliant and beautiful spirituality is just so much vapor. I'm speaking to myself as well.

Respectfully,

Adam

How to Speak Like a Mensch

2013-04-15T15:00:13-04:00

Between Oct. 3 and 22 last year the nation was treated to four debates between the presidential contenders. Many viewers, myself included, thought they had an enhanced drama quotient this time around -- sharp exchanges, intense body-language and the usual mélange of content disconnect. What struck me most at the time was the general failure of all the parties involved (though some more than others) in base-line decency of communication. Though it has become popular in our culture for (many) people of influence to project supreme confidence, speak in dismissive and sarcastic tones and dominate the "conversation," Jewish tradition (Pirke Avot 5:9) teaches that there are "seven traits that characterize a cultivated individual" -- they all have to do with how we communicate.

The first is that a cultivated person does not begin speaking before someone who is greater in wisdom or years. Can you imagine the stony silence that would ensue after each question from the moderator as each candidate graciously assumed the superior wisdom of the other? "Ya know Jim, I'm gonna let the president field that one first as he obviously has a lot more experience with it than I do." How refreshing would that be? How might it improve our own communication? Far too many of us are overconfident in our level of knowledge and intelligence. If we listened more and opined less we would all be better off.

The second trait is not interrupting. It's a basic courtesy to let someone finish what they're saying before you begin your witty retort. Sadly, this one is a staple of modern debating. Protests of "that's not accurate!" "he's gone over his time limit," and the like may score tough-guy points with some viewers, but it's in poor taste and is just plain rude. Eye-rolling and contemptuous snorting would also fall into this category. Anyone besides me experience this one in their own interpersonal relationships? There are few verbal gestures as dismissive as simply not allowing your interlocutor to speak. Stephen Covey had it right when he suggested that we should "seek first to understand, then be understood." It's the way of a dignified communicator.

Number three is to not answer impetuously. This one is partially responsible for those embarrassing "gotcha" moments when the candidate inadvertently goes on record saying precisely the opposite of what he said at an earlier juncture. Closer to home, how often do we get asked for advice on weighty topics which we consider for all of 30 seconds before answering? "Do you think I should break up with Brad?" "Ummm, yeah. Never liked him much anyway." Meanwhile, we may have irrevocably altered someone's life -- and not necessarily for the better. One of the things that Jews atone for on Yom Kippur is giving bad advice. Cultivated individuals should take it very seriously.

Number four says that we should "question with relevance to the subject and answer accurately." I doubt that there has ever been a debate that didn't feature a failure on this front. When one of them doesn't want to talk about a question he's been asked he simply begins answering a question that wasn't posed -- something he does want to discuss. Besides being generally out of line and specifically rude to the questioner, it also robs the viewers of their desire to know the honest sentiments of those who are asking to be hired by us. How should we be expected to fairly decide on a candidate if we're not privy to their true and complete positions? This trait also surfaces in normal conversations as well -- especially during arguments. If you ever find yourself unfurling your laundry list of grievances during a row with your spouse for instance -- things that occurred years ago and have no bearing on the topic at hand -- then this applies to you. One of the secrets to having a great marriage is to keep it on topic during a disagreement. It's a sign of an emotionally mature (and intellectually honest) person.

Number five is to discuss "first things first and last things last." When someone asks a series of questions, it's appropriate to assume a relevance to the order and to carefully answer in kind. This shows a) that you paid attention and b) that you care about what was asked.

Number six tells us that "about something which you have not heard" you should say "I have not heard." Sounds simple enough but oh, how uncommon this trait is. The Talmud instructs us that we should "teach our mouths to say 'I don't know.'" Most people are extremely uncomfortable having no information on a topic and thus no opinion to offer. As such, we all have personal experience with folks who feel perfectly at liberty to pontificate on every and any topic -- wholly unburdened by the fear of humiliation in as much as they seem to possess the totality of human knowledge. Presidents are expected to be intellectual jacks of all trades and so can easily fall victim to this one as well.

Number seven is to "acknowledge the truth." In a disagreement, especially after a great deal of emotional energy has been expended defending a position, it's very tough to own up to being wrong. That's why we so often find ourselves, knowing full well that the other person is correct, vociferously defending our position as doggedly as the Allies at the Siege of Bastogne. It's a sign of great humility -- and so of great character -- to admit one's error and move on, which is why it's as rare as it is impressive. Can you recall any recent political discourse (of any sort) where a full and open mea culpa was offered after a tangible and effective demonstration by the other side? Me neither, but it seems clear to me that we as individuals -- and the world at large -- would all be better off absorbing and enacting more of these principles.

An Iron-Clad Proof of God

2013-01-28T16:46:06-05:00

A few months back I had the pleasure of watching the film "In Our Own Time," a surprisingly engaging documentary about the Bee Gees. Toward the end of the film, Barry Gibb mused that even a few years back you wouldn't be caught dead putting on a Bee Gees record, but now they were slowly making their way back to the public's embrace. It occurs to me that (in some ways) philosophical argumentation is like pop music -- moving in and out of cycles of favorability and that what was once "uncool" can be rediscovered and mined for its wisdom anew. What is known as the Cosmological Argument (Prime Mover) is a case in point. Far from being outdated, obsolete or refuted, it continues to sing its compelling tune of logic and reason for those who are willing to properly understand it -- and aren't too cool to spin the classics.

The argument has enjoyed a diverse and multicultural history and has been expounded by many, including: Aristotle (pagan), Al-Gazali (Muslim) who in turn influenced Aquinas (Christian) and Maimonides (Jewish). The Al-Gazali formulation (though it will be rejected) goes like this:

Whatever begins to exist has a cause;
The Universe began to exist;
Therefore, the Universe had a cause.

Aquinas further modified the argument to assert that the universe need not have existed and, inasmuch as that's true, it is entirely contingent -- something that is not necessary or intrinsic. He therefore held (unlike Al-Gazali) that even if the universe has always existed, it nonetheless owes its existence to an un-caused cause which he understood to be God.

Perhaps you will now suggest that there may be an infinite series of contingent causes (and therefore no need to evoke a Prime Mover or un-caused Cause). The theological philosopher Edward Feser has done a great job explaining this facet of the argument (and the argument as a whole) in his book "The Last Superstition." By way of analogy, he has the reader envision a hand which is holding a stick which is pushing a stone. Would it be accurate to suggest that the stick is pushing the stone? Not really, as the hand is doing the pushing. But what allows the hand to push in the first place? The arm, which in turn is dependent on the muscles which are dependent on cells which are dependent on molecular structure which is dependent on atomic structure which is dependent on the primary forces of gravitation, electro-magnetism and the weak and strong nuclear forces which are dependent on ... what? What we'll see is that even if there were an infinite series of contingent causes such as these, we would still need a final, un-caused cause to get the ball rolling. Without it, nothing could unfold as nothing would have started the process.

For example, let's say that there were an infinite array of mirrors reflecting one to the other and an image of a bear in each mirror. Would it be possible to suggest that the image of the bear stretches on infinitely with no actual bear to start the reflections reflecting? Surely not. Even if there were an infinite number of mirrors, there would still need to be a real bear (a cause) who initiated the reflective series.

Say you were driving along the quiet and bucolic countryside when you're forced to (patiently) wait at a train crossing. All you see is a series of flatbed cars that seems to go on for miles. After an uncomfortably long wait you realize that this is an infinite series of flatbed rail cars! Would it then be logical to conclude that there is nothing actually pulling these cars -- no locomotive? That would clearly be absurd, as you know very well that flatbed rail cars have no power of locomotion, i.e., they are contingent/dependent on an outside force to move. As such, you can (and must) conclude that even if there are an infinite number of these cars -- or of anything (any series of contingencies) -- there must be an original, non-contingent force that is doing the moving, a force that has not been, and cannot be influenced by any other. This force is God.

Many people would be tempted to suggest that even if it were true that there was such a force, going ahead and calling it "God" would quickly strain credulity. Nonetheless, as Professor Feser beautifully explains, logic alone would demonstrate that the force in question would have all of the characteristics of the classical Western notion of the Creator. For instance, inasmuch as there must be an ultimate non-contingent force, its non-contingency indicates that (as held in monotheism) it must be singular, for if there were more than one mover each would be limited -- and hence contingent -- deriving their power from some earlier force. Such a force would also need to be immaterial as material things are changeable and therefore contingent. This being would not come into or go out of existence but simply always exist. Finally, as the source of all change, this prime mover would be the ultimate cause of things coming to have the qualities and attributes that they do -- eminently, if not formally. Inasmuch as that would include all powers, we would conclude that this being is all powerful and all knowledgeable.

There are many common misconceptions that prevent (even very intelligent) thinkers from properly appreciating the import of this argument. Here's a sampling:

It does not rest on the premise that "everything has a cause" which would leave open the question of what caused God. Rather the argument is that whatever comes into existence (is contingent) has a cause. Therefore, to ask "what caused God?" is really to ask "what caused the thing that cannot in principle have a cause?"
Some object that the argument doesn't prove that any particular religious belief structure is true. That's correct but irrelevant. Despite the fact that Professor Feser and I part company about four-fifths of the way down the theological path, we walk lockstep most of the way -- all monotheists do.
Many people will say that "science has shown such and such" and therefore the argument is false. The reality is that most versions of the argument do not depend on particular scientific claims in any way.
It's not a "God of the Gaps" argument. It is not intended to plug a hole in our scientific knowledge or asserted as a "best explanation" for evidence.

It seems to me that an open-minded thinker, free of biases and misconceptions, would have no choice but to acknowledge the veracity of this argument. When properly understood, it is simple, direct -- and tough to refute. Why then, despite its obvious and compelling line of reasoning, does it seem to have so few backers? Perhaps this (refreshingly honest) quote from NYU philosopher Thomas Nagel provides the answer:

I speak from experience, being strongly subject to this fear myself: I want atheism to be true and am made uneasy by the fact that some of the most intelligent and well-informed people I know are religious believers. It isn't just that I don't believe in God and, naturally, hope that I am right in my belief. It's that I hope there is no God! I don't want there to be a God; I don't want the universe to be like that.

Click through the slideshow to see most and least religious cities in the United States:

The 7 Things Everyone Wants

2012-12-27T12:05:35-05:00

I recently came across a fascinating (to me) quote by Lady Gaga: "I want women -- and men -- to feel empowered by a deeper and more psychotic part of themselves. The part they're always trying desperately to hide. I want that to become something that they cherish." Now, while I certainly have no issue with the idea of people working toward feeling empowered by a "deeper" side of themselves -- an art which at this point in history is about as common as butter-churning -- I have to wonder why she wants to encourage psychosis, essentially a loss of contact with reality. While I do believe that a great many people already spend enormous time, toil and treasure actively engaged in divorcing themselves from reality, I also believe that they are rewarded with pain, anger and fear for those efforts. At the end of the day, I suspect that Ms. Gaga and myself actually want the same things for people, but that part of what she is offering boils down to a counterfeit version of the seven essential categories of what every member of the human race truly wants.

I began to discover these seven things as a student in a yeshiva (Jewish college) directly opposite the Western Wall in the late '90s. It was a high traffic area and it was not uncommon for tourists and visitors to pop in and take in the great view from our balcony. Periodically, this led to philosophical discourse between the yeshiva folk and our various and sundry visitors. Once in a while, juicy theological debates resulted.

One day I found myself well-seated to eavesdrop on one such exchange between a black-hatted, Rasputin-length-bearded rabbi and a young, secular Israeli soldier. After bantering around the meaning of life for a while, the rabbi asked the soldier what, exactly, it was that the soldier wanted out of life. "Well," rejoined the soldier, "to be honest, I'm basically looking for ... sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll."

"Great!" shouted the rabbi, "I totally agree." Surprised (and somewhat more warmed to the conversation) the soldier pressed the rabbi to explain. "Well," asked the rabbi, "what exactly is it that you like about drugs?"

"It's the feeling of being beyond your boundaries -- of connecting to something bigger than yourself."

"Ahh, so you're looking for connection and transcendence?" asked the rabbi.

"Hmmm, I guess so," said the soldier. "I never thought about it like that."

"And what is it that you like about rock 'n' roll?"

"It's the power conveyed through the music and the incredible unity of the crowd. I get it rabbi, you'll say that what I really want is the power and unity, and that the music is just a vehicle to get there, right?"

Right indeed. In the last 15 years, I have asked hundreds of people to describe their "most spiritual experience," or if they didn't have one, their "happiest" one, and then to put a one word adjective to it. People chose events like; the birth of a child, witnessing a beautiful sunset or other natural phenomena, a cherished musical performance or a confession of love. Frequently, these experiences were accompanied by what some described as a sense of "being in the zone" or a state of "flow" -- where life suddenly appeared to them as wonderful, correct and harmonious and life's challenges seemed proportional, surmountable and "OK." Most people that I have met have had at least some fleeting moment like this and everyone who was there loved it. What I discovered is that a) everyone badly wants these experiences and in fact they are the root motivators of all of our actions, b) people frequently don't know how to consciously produce them on their own and therefore c) are susceptible to the pursuit of faux versions of the things they really want, and d) what they most want out of life is: love, harmony, unity, peace, transcendence (the feeling of being beyond one's limitations and boundaries), joy and understanding. There may be one more or one less, but many other categories reduce to one of these seven.

The interesting thing about these ideas -- the things we most desperately want out of life -- is that they are all functions of mind, and though socio-biologists may twist themselves into (Gordian) Knots trying to explain how these experiences are really also part of the evolutionary process, it's clear that the human species can eat, live and reproduce just fine in the complete absence of them. You can sire hordes of offspring without being happy and consume copious amounts of food without feeling understood. So where do these desires come from? A theological perspective would suggest that an authentic experience of love is wholly unrelated to brain-state or chemistry and is instead an experience of another, higher dimension. (For a fascinating discussion on the lack of connection between brain-state and the human experience see Thomas Nagel's new book on the subject "Mind and Cosmos: Why the Materialist Neo-Darwinian Conception of Nature Is Almost Certainly False.") People intuitively desire that non-corporeal world and its gifts but tend to get caught up in lower, temporal refractions of these transcendent states. Thus people can easily confuse lust and infatuation for love, coercion for unity, and so on.

This gratifying state of being need not be serendipitous and in fact can occur in the most (and least) fortuitous junctures in our lives. Here is one striking example taken from Viktor Frankl's experience as an inmate in Auschwitz:

"Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love. I understood how a man who has nothing left in this world still may know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved. In a position of utter desolation, when man cannot express himself in positive action, when his only achievement may consist in enduring his sufferings in the right way -- an honorable way -- in such a position man can, through loving contemplation of the image he carries of his beloved, achieve fulfillment. For the first time in my life I was able to understand the meaning of the words, 'The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory.'"

If someone is capable of accessing the transcendent states of joy and love under the harshest type of duress, then surely you and I, with our comparatively less challenging circumstances, could learn to recognize, embrace and live these beautiful concepts. Ultimately, what we most need (and want) is more reality, not less, and the concomitant recognition that the true nature of that reality is one that is infused with limitless, joy-inducing good.

Rubio Is Right (Sort of)

2012-11-20T14:09:00-05:00

Senator Marco Rubio set off something of a media fire storm in a recent interview with GQ magazine in which he suggested that the age of the universe was a "mystery" and that theologians have striven to reconcile the biblical account of a six day Creation with the current 4.54 billion years suggested by cosmology. Can these two time-tables be legitimately reconciled or is that just so much theological grasping at straws? From a classical Jewish perspective, it would seem relatively easy to do.

To the secularist, the notion that we should flippantly toss aside hundreds of years of scientific investigation unequivocally demonstrating an extremely old universe simply because some ancient tome says it was created fewer than 6,000 years ago is nothing short of idiocy. What I hope to demonstrate is that Judaism's understanding of this matter (and many others) is significantly more nuanced, complex and surprising than what is currently believed to be the standard religious gloss on the subject. The truth of the matter is that Judaism is frequently (and unfairly) lumped together with other religious systems that actually have vastly different ways of looking at things.

One thousand years ago, the great Jewish philosopher and physician, Moses Maimonides, wrote that there is no contradiction between Torah and science and that if one is perceived, then there was a misapprehension of the science or the Torah. Two centuries later, Rabbi Isaac of Akko, a disciple of the great Moses Ben Nachman (Nachmanides) and one of the foremost Kabbalists of his generation, wrote some surprising commentary regarding the age of the universe. In his work "the Trove of Life," he explains (based on a kabbalistic notion that there have been multiple 7,000 year epochs) that the Earth was actually 42,000 years old when Adam was created and that these years are "divine" years and should not be thought of as 365 regular days. Rather, a divine day is 1,000 years -- making a Divine year 365,250 years. He based this on a verse in Psalm 90 that says "1,000 years in your eyes is like a day gone by." Do the math. According to Rabbi Isaac, the universe is 42,000 x 365,250, or 15,340,500,000 years old. This figure is squarely within the ballpark of where modern cosmology places the age of the universe. How did he know this? And how did he posses the temerity to conclude it in the midst of the Dark Ages? Perhaps our fundamentalism is not quite as primitive as is supposed.

Dr. Gerald Schroeder, an Ph.D. in physics from MIT, has spent the last 35 years investigating the confluence of science and Torah and has a novel, yet compelling, approach. Starting with Einstein's discovery of the relativity of time, he explains how great changes in gravity or velocity produce measurable changes in the flow of time. He demonstrates that on an imaginary planet so massive, with a force of gravity so great, that its time was slowed by a factor of 350,000, a visitor would live out three minutes of normal-feeling time while concurrently, the folks back home would have lived out an entire two years. Looking from Earth, the actions of the "big planet" visitor would appear to be unfolding extremely slowly, and vice versa from the other vantage point. Big Bang theory posits that the entire universe at its inception was but a minuscule speck. This notion was supported and recorded by Nachmanides in the 13th Century when he explained that the universe was originally condensed into the size of a mustard seed. As the universe expanded (again, a notion supported by both science and Torah), time expanded with it so that every time it doubled in size, time would pass at half its original rate. Following this logic, Dr. Schroeder demonstrates that it is perfectly conceivable that from the universe's perspective, six 24-hour periods had passed and concurrently the dilated outer reaches of that space would view it as if 15 billion years had elapsed. Have a look at his book "The Science of God" for the full treatment, including charts outlining the exact duration of each biblical day.

I understand that it will be irresistible for some to label this approach as "apologetics," "reverse engineering" or worse. Bear in mind that true intellectualism requires us to remain open to new ideas that don't fit neatly into our current worldview. Most people are so wholly invested in their way of thinking that no amount of evidence would suffice to disavow them of it. Nonetheless, there are still some brave souls out there with the courage to take a second look. These ideas are old, based on the writing of well known and established Jewish scholars, who in turn learned them from more ancient sources. These sources depict an origin of the universe that is clearly, and uncannily, similar to that of modern cosmology and quite unlike the views of some "fundamentalist" religions out there. And when these sources have in the past conflicted with the cosmological thinking of the time, it is often the science that has evolved to an understanding closer to that of the religious. The Big Bang Theory, for example, positing that the universe is expanding infinitely from a single point, was quite controversial. Since the 1960s, that theory has been largely accepted as scientific fact.

That should give us pause. Science and religion have different functions in our lives, but they are not necessarily and always in opposition. Do your own research. If it's true, then integrity demands a re-evaluation of the value (of at least one) fundamentalist religious system.

The Daredevil's Doctrine

2012-10-15T13:01:30-04:00

I have to admit that I was fully transfixed this afternoon as I watched Felix Baumgartner stare down the 24 mile long void that separated him from the ground. There he stood, motionless and quiet, knowing that in moments his own body would tear through the sound barrier as gravity's insistent arm angrily pulled him toward home as if seeking to right a taunt made against it -- "you don't belong up here. No one does."

I also have to admit that though I will never come close to doing anything remotely like this, I have a deep craving to know what it's like. There are several aspects to this craving:

One is the desire to be so smitten by a big idea that you're willing to go to great (extreme) lengths to achieve it. Baumgartner planned for this world-record smashing jump for five years. He built a team, got corporate sponsorship, trained, refined his techniques and trained more. He then put his life on the line. A man on a mission is a very powerful thing. The Talmud's take on it is "nothing stands in the way of the will."

The second is a desire to sense that you have the power to make the impossible possible. There have been many feats of daring and wonder achieved over time, but a handful have stood out in my mind -- Philippe Petit's tightrope walk between the newly constructed Twin Towers, David Blaine's week under water and his 17 minute breath-hold are, for me, the top two. As of today, Baumgartner joins them for third.

When Blaine spoke to neurologists about what the safe limits of breath-holding were, they told him that anything more than six minutes would cause brain-damage. Naturally, he took that as a challenge. He became obsessed with holding his breath -- doing it for 44 minutes out of every 52 first thing in each morning. He spoke with pearl divers. He studied the guy who at that time had the record (someone with twice the lung-capacity of the average person). He lost 50 pounds, ate foods that would increase his oxygen supply, learned how to slow his heart rate down to 32 beats per minute and slept in a hypoxic tent. The result was a world-record 17 minutes and 4 seconds. Like beating the 4 minute mile, all is impossible -- until it's not.

A third aspect to my desire to know what these experiences are like stems from a desire to do something of great import -- something dramatic, captivating and inspiring. And here's where it gets a bit tricky. Everyone wants this. Everyone wants to feel that the things they do -- their existences themselves -- matter. This is part what drives people to become actors, politicians and sports figures (or do Tough Mudders or go on Kingda Ka at Six Flags). It's what makes us appreciate and crave fame and part of why we all need validation. The question is: Is what Baumgartner & Co. do actually, intrinsically valuable? Some would argue that it's just lunacy or simply a cheap substitute for real achievement -- if you can't contribute to society in any real way, just hold your breath for attention like children do. Can we actually say that the world is better off because Philippe Petit had the guts (or the temerity) to sneak up to the WTC, string his wire and perform on it? One suspects it is, but how, exactly?

Three-thousand years ago Solomon wrote that "he who is slow to anger is better than the strong man, and a master of his passions is better than the conqueror of a city" (Proverbs 16:32). Though it does not tend to win accolades, from a Judaic perspective, internal achievement is far and away the greatest (and most difficult) feat to perform. To be sure, the daredevil must achieve inside and out. To do what they do, they must vanquish fear, build tremendous reserves of patience and remain undaunted by failure. What I wonder is: What else could these people have done with their unassailable talents? How many hungry people could they have fed if they had applied these same skills to the poor? What medical breakthroughs could they have brought about? Or, could they have become literal living saints -- taking hold of and rooting out all of their negative traits and clearing paths for others to learn from their example? It's clear to me that anyone who seeks to walk a spiritual path needs to pursue that growth with the same dogged, death-defying, obsessive and relentless vigor.

The sad truth is that some of the folks who pulled off these extraordinary stunts did not live exemplary lives. They were able to bring their gifts to bear only on certain aspects of their reality while others rotted on the vine. Thrills, no matter how intense, eventually fade and can leave people feeling empty and drained. So while, these traits and skills are exceedingly valuable, they do not necessarily correlate to happiness and can leave someone eternally milking a brief moment of glory from 1974. No one can take it away from him, but there's just got to be more.

I propose that a challenge competition be established -- one that encourages internal exploration and achievement. There should be a presidential medal or a Google X Prize awarded to all those who can demonstrate that they used to be habitually angry and overcame it, verbally abusive and stopped or excessively fearful and worried who became congenially optimistic. These new found traits pay dual dividends -- one to the individual who does it and another to society -- which will benefit from all its interactions with these folks.

It may not have the drama of a supersonic leap from the edge of space, but, pound for pound, when it comes to success borne of frightfully tough work and unbending determination, character development wins hands down.

The Secret of Suffering

2012-07-28T10:15:39-04:00

The day my eldest child turned 16 months he began to vomit. It wasn't just your average little kid spit-up either. Rather, it was a cascading gastric fountain that randomly exploded like a little incontinent fire-hydrant. Our concern increased in proportion with the frequency of these episodes, which was several times daily. When the pediatric gastroenterologist informed us that he would need to have an upper endoscopy (and what that was like), we began to feel sick as well.

When the day arrived we were told that we should not feed him at all. This was already hard -- in almost a year and a half we had never denied him his "baba" whenever he wanted it and he was confused and upset by our withholding it. We did our best to keep him distracted when the doctors delayed the procedure by an excruciating two hours. He was finally placed on the gurney and rolled into a scary room that looked like the inside of a robot's gullet -- lights blinking, devices whirring and a lot of wires. His mouth was already quivering but the approaching masked people set off screams of horror. That's when they asked us to hold him down. That was the worst part. I tried to imagine what was going on in his tender little head: What the heck is going on? I'm so hungry. Why are the people who have always helped me now doing this to me? The one idea I desperately wished I could convey to him was, "We are helping you. I know it doesn't seem like it, but please understand that this is actually something good!"

I have found this story to be helpful for explaining to people the nature of suffering. In truth, our ability to perceive what is happening around us is extremely limited; as Thomas Edison once said, "We do not know one millionth of one percent about anything." With such limited and flawed faculties, how can we rightly expect to have any more perspective about the nature of that which is occurring to us than a 1-year-old child does about the necessity of a surgical procedure? We cannot.

The Talmud asserts that "there is no evil that descends from on high," and yet, unlike various other theological systems, we do not believe that there are two domains -- one controlled by good and the other by evil. Rather, we believe as the prophet Isaiah wrote 2,500 years ago that "I (God) am the One Who forms light and creates darkness; Who makes peace and creates evil; I am God, Maker of all these." How then are we to reconcile our notion of an infinite, loving Creator with one who "creates evil"? From our perspective, the answer, and the ultimate truth, is that there simply is no intrinsic evil, just the appearance of it. Though events may present as scary, painful, random and dark, in an ultimate sense they are no such thing. Does that imply that we should rejoice when horrific things occur? Absolutely not. We have been given the ability to glimpse a sliver of reality and also to use our intellects to "see" beyond our limitations, but like small children, we cry out when we're in pain -- it's a function of our basic humanity. At the same time, we are capable of using reason to broaden and compartmentalize what is happening to us -- no matter how unpleasant. It's for this reason that Judaism permits broken-heartedness, which is an outgrowth of the natural pain of loss, but not despair, which implies that something is fundamentally flawed in our reality, which it is not.

For instance, the great first century sage Akiva ben Yosef met his end at the hands of gleeful Roman executioners who raked his skin off with hot iron combs. As recorded in the Talmud, his response was to laugh. He was perfectly sane, lucid and able to experience the excruciating pain of the torture. He was, however, also able to focus, even in that moment, on what was good in his life and what significance this event held for him and the Jewish world. And lest we think that such a feat is not attainable in more recent times, consider the reflections of the Austrian psychiatrist Viktor Frankl on his experience in Auschwitz:

"I understood how a man who has nothing left in this world still may know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved. In a position of utter desolation, when man cannot express himself in positive action, when his only achievement may consist in enduring his sufferings in the right way -- an honorable way -- in such a position man can, through loving contemplation of the image he carries of his beloved, achieve fulfillment. For the first time in my life I was able to understand the meaning of the words, "The angels are lost in perpetual contemplation of an infinite glory..."

I've heard it said that a person can deal with any "what" as long as they have a "why." We only experience life as unpleasant when there is no meaning to it. For example, if you get a group of people in a room and tell them to sprint back and forth for 48 minutes, they might very well loathe the experience. If I give them a ball and two baskets (a purpose) it's a great time. Freud understood the full import of the suffering that results from a lack of meaning as illustrated by his observation that "the moment a man questions the meaning and value of life he is sick, since objectively neither has any existence."

Suffering, therefore, can be a potent teacher and a catalyst for good, but only when it is attached to something with actual significance. At the end of the day it will be an outgrowth of our worldviews -- do we choose to take pleasure in life even at the very moment it's being ripped away from us like an Akiva, or do we prefer the pain of everyday experience lived without purpose or meaning like a Freud?

My son now understands about what happened that day -- and is thankful to all involved that we caused him a momentary discomfort in the pursuit of his greater good. So too, when we succeed in expanding our consciousness to encompass the full spectrum of possibility that suffering represents, we will cease to experience it as such.

The Moral Excellence of the State of Israel

2012-06-01T11:14:21-04:00

Tal Ben Shahar's class in positive psychology was one of the most popular in the history of Harvard University. Yet despite his pedagogical success, four best-selling books, a consulting practice with Fortune 500 companies and sundry television appearances, he decided it was time to move home ... to Israel. How he reached this decision and its implications are beautifully presented in an unusual film entitled "Israel Inside: How a Small Nation Makes a Big Difference."

For me, there are two striking elements about this recent documentary. The first is the total absence of exploration of the supposedly unceasing and (often hyperbolized) strife that the word at large has come to associate with the modern Jewish State. The second is the clear presentation of an unarguable dedication to and successful implementation of the Jewish notion of Tikkun Olam (repairing the world) that urgently bubbles throughout that tiny land mass in the most insistent, daring and intrinsic manner.

For instance, when the tragic earthquake of 2010 devastated Haiti, Israel, with its unfortunate but useful familiarity with public scenes of mayhem, was one of the first responders. Within days, Israeli doctors and army personal had set up a state-of-the-art field hospital and saved many lives. A pregnant woman named Jeanne-Michelle was so thankful to them for delivering her baby that she named the child Israel. The doctors interviewed saw this as an obligation, an obvious and necessary component of their national identity. This type of Israeli benevolence is as common as it is unrecognized. And it's not just with Israel's friends. Despite its status as mortal enemy No. 1, Israel offered similar assistance to the Islamic Republic of Iran after their devastating earthquake at Bam in 2003. Iran declined, preferring the death of its own citizens to the acceptance of help from the "Little Satan."

Simcha Blass, a Polish immigrant to Israel, along with his son Yeshayahu, was a water engineer and a pioneer of the drip irrigation system -- an invention that has literally allowed the desert to bloom by producing greater crop yield while using less water. Note Mark Twain's description of the Israeli flora from his trip there in 1867: "A desolate country whose soil is rich enough, but is given over wholly to weeds ... a silent, mournful expanse ... a desolation ... We never saw a human being on the whole route ... Hardly a tree or shrub anywhere." Things have changed. Israel is now an exporter of high quality produce all over the world (when not being needlessly boycotted) and has shared their water technology with many other countries with harsh climates such as Niger, South Africa and Senegal. These Israeli engineers take great pride in their assistance and the local populations are extremely grateful. Those beneficiaries don't discuss perceived sieges and occupations as they are willing to recognize the true nature of the people helping them -- congenial, habitual givers who are infused with the intuitive desire to make the world better.

Perhaps that it why Israeli entrepreneur Shai Agasi named his electric car company "Better Place." He and his team are not just making the cars, but are creating a nation-wide system to fulfill his "vision of zero-emission vehicles powered by electricity from renewable sources -- a reality in countries around the globe." Perhaps Better Place will be the company that finally breaks the back of our fossil-fuel dependence and does more to green this planet than any other. In 2008 Israel became the first country to commit to the model and since then Denmark, Australia, California, Hawaii and Ontario have followed suit. Why do we read more about check points than this revolutionary green technology? Why does a perverse Turkish flotilla attract so much more media attention than all of the cutting edge medical, agricultural and environmental innovation? Why is every defensive, counter-terror operation pathologically obsessed over while organizations such as Aleh, Yad Sarah and Magen David Adom passionately excel in caring, nurturing, assisting, providing and supporting the most challenged, needy, hurt and down-trodden members of Israeli society in ways that the whole world could learn from?

One is tempted to surmise that there are many people whose hatred of the Jews (not just Israel) and what we stand for simply overrides their ability to connect with the many values that they themselves hold and strangely causes them to identify with the enemies of the Jews -- whose values they would normally disagree with. In favor of women's rights? Where are you more likely to find them, in Tel Aviv or Gaza City? Think Democracy is a favorable political system? Where is it more alive, Jerusalem or Cairo? And amazingly, despite the ability of Muslims, Christians and others to hold office, vote and avail themselves of all of the rights and privileges of the government, Israel is called an "apartheid state" while actual apartheid states like Saudi Arabia -- a place which I am unable to travel because I'm a Jew and allows no non-Muslims to visit Mecca -- receives little opprobrium.

Inevitably, there will be those who will take the position that no amount of benevolence can make up for their perceived persecution of the Palestinians and Israel's supposed use of disproportionate force in conflicts. It is a difficult thing to be misunderstood -- to strive to do good only to be rebuffed and maligned for the attempts. It's an odd claim, but the truth is that the Palestinians have no greater friend than Israel, which has happily built roads, schools, hospitals and industrial zones for them while always believing that both peace and prosperity were indeed possible. What other nation in the history of time has ever voluntarily entered into negotiations to give back land won in defensive wars and offered to split its ancient and historical capital in half? And as for warfare, Israel routinely incurs heightened risk to its own soldiers to minimize civilian casualties. As British Colonel Richard Kemp testified after the '08 war in Gaza: "During Operation Cast Lead, the Israeli Defense Forces did more to safeguard the rights of civilians in a combat zone than any other army in the history of warfare. Israel did so while facing an enemy that deliberately positioned its military capability behind the human shield of the civilian population."

There are many sources in Jewish canonical literature that demand moral excellence; "Justice, justice shall you pursue," "Do not take revenge, do not bear a grudge, love your fellow as yourself," "Remember the stranger, the orphan and the widow ... you yourselves were strangers in the land of Egypt." These teachings have been etched into the collective consciousness of the Jewish nation and reverberate in our behavior to this day. We have many flaws as well, but the modern state of Israel should hold its head high. Despite its craven detractors, it remains on mission as "a light unto the nations."

Keep Your Mask On

2012-05-03T11:20:35-04:00

I recently saw the following sentiment expressed in my Facebook newsfeed:

"Can we all just agree to drop our masks for 60 seconds? For one minute just quit pretending to be a 'sweet girl,' 'holy man' or 'accomplished business guy?' We'll all be better off when you are who you really are."

I beg to differ. While it might seem "authentic" to parade around one's flawed inner world, not only is it not inappropriate to mask these character deficiencies, it is rather part and parcel of the healthy growth process of an actualized person.

Two thousand years ago the Jewish sage Ben Zoma asked the question, "Who is the mighty person?" The answer he gave was, "the one who can subdue his negative inclination." One thousand years before that Solomon wrote, "he who is slow to anger is better than the strong man and the master of his passions is better than the conqueror of a city." True strength is measured by our ability to not do that which we most feel like. While it might be incredibly tempting to back-hand slap a family member who is dredging up some embarrassing episode from 20 years back for the umpteenth time, few would agree that to drop your mask of civility and actually do it would be the proper course of action. And though it might seem satisfying to verbally dismember an ex-friend or spouse who have conducted themselves in the most inexplicably egregious way with you, a person of greatness will not hit back. (This does not mean that we need to become doormats and forgo appropriate, measured responses to those who are truly harming us. It is rather that our reactions should lack the venom and raw emotionality of those who remove their aforementioned masks and conduct themselves according to their baser instincts).

All people possess two contradictory aspects -- one that yearns to do good and be good and one that could care less. These forces are locked in perpetual combat within us and is the reason why we can encounter a homeless person on the street and think, "I would like to solve world hunger," while two minutes later, an innocent pedestrian stopping abruptly in front of us might elicit a "get the hell out of my way, idiot" reaction. Jewish tradition associates the drive for good with the soul and the drive for destructiveness and negativity with the body. The soul wants to connect and empathize with people, to solve their problems and ease their suffering. The body wants a couch, a bag of chips, and the unquestioning obedience of humanity and the forces of nature.

Judaism believes in free will and hence in the ability to choose which version of ourselves we would most like to be. The more we side with the soul and its drives, the more spiritual, patient, calm and actualized we become. The more we choose the body and its insatiable thirst for immediacy, honor and sloth, the more obtuse, uncaring and self-indulgent we will be. The choice is ours. The oft maligned mask is a powerful tool that helps us acclimate to the way we would like to be. It is a statement of intention which alerts ourselves and the world that this is who we are planning on being and that the fact that we are impatient, angry, jealous or depressed now does not mean that we need resign ourselves to permanently remain in this un-ideal state. It certainly does not mean that we should celebrate our deficiencies as the mask-removal advocates would have it.

It is unfortunate that our culture has a strain that glorifies masklessness -- the debauchery of the rock star, the self-righteous arrogance of the celebrity CEO or the nasty, hatchet-job compositions of the attention-seeking journalist. Early in Jewish history, we had to contend with a popular cult who purposely embraced this type of behavior in their form of worship of their god, Baal. Part of the ritual involved nude, wild dancing accompanied by self-inflicted cutting to spurt blood all over themselves and to top it all off, group defecation -- it was one huge, depraved orgy schmear. The purpose of these over the top desert raves was to rip the mask away root and branch -- to allow the bodily force to reign supreme over the practitioner rendering them more akin to beasts than humans. (As I write this I see that the pop singer Kesha has tweeted a picture of herself peeing in the street -- lovely).

The human is the chooser, the one who decides to don the mask of temperance and magnanimity, even when he doesn't really feel like it, and attempts to conduct him or herself in accordance with their aspirational selves despite opposition and difficulty.

The Midrash explains that Pharaoh's necromancers were confused to learn that Moses was an angry and impatient man (traits that by and large seemed wildly inconsistent with his external behavior). In truth, Moses was indeed born with those unfortunate traits and as such spent many years methodically refining them step by step until he had mastered them. It's ironic to note that later in his life Moses was forced to wear an actual mask -- not because he was still engaged in the "fake it till you make it" process, but because the glow of his countenance was too much for people to bear. He had grown so intensely that his inner soul nature overwhelmed his bodily self and broke through his corporeality for all to see. The sight was enough to shock and frighten them -- hence the mask.

Yes, it is very tempting to live according to the dictates of our lower-selves -- to feel free to screech and humiliate, scorn, and party with abandon -- but like drugs, these counterfeit pleasures soon wear off and leave us depleted, empty and alienated from the true source of meaning and happiness in our lives.

It's the harder path, but keep the mask on.

Kabbalistic Feminism and the War on Women

2012-04-18T12:16:58-04:00

"In the 600th year of the sixth millennium [5600 in the Jewish calendar corresponding to 1840 C.E.] the gates of wisdom above (Kabbalah) together will the wellsprings of wisdom below (science) will open up and the world will prepare to usher in the seventh millennium [the 7000th year corresponding to the year 2240 C.E.]. This is symbolized by one who begins preparations for ushering in the Sabbath on the afternoon of the sixth day. In the same way, toward the end of the sixth millennium, preparations are made for entering the seventh. The hint for this is "In the 600th year of Noah's life ... all the wellsprings of the great deep burst forth and the flood gates of the heavens were opened." --Zohar, 117a

Two thousand years ago, the Zohar predicted that a shift of world-consciousness would occur in the middle of the 19th century. Whether or not one believes that this idea was anything more than an obscure musing that may or may not be related to actual world events, it's interesting to note that the pace of scientific discovery increased dramatically around this time in conjunction with the Industrial Revolution. For the spiritually minded, it is not a foreign notion that "windows of possibility" open and close within the fabric of reality that afford humanity the opportunity to harness aspects of innovative and revolutionary types of consciousness -- for good or for ill. One of these seismic shifts involves the status of women and the nature of their societal station.

Very recently, when some of our grandparents were kids, women were unable to vote in this country and women like Susan B. Anthony took it upon themselves to right what they saw as a major slight against 50 percent of the population. But why then? Why did women not clamor and rail for centuries against slights of this sort? Ostensibly, because they were not all that bothered by it. Yes, sociologists could busy themselves for years explaining the underlying societal factors that may have conspired to produce Suffrage, but however you prefer to slice it, it was simply time for that transition to begin.

Perhaps it was inevitable, but once again it is intriguing to note that more than 500 years ago, the greatest Kabbalist of the last 1,000 years -- Rabbi Isaac Luria -- wrote that men and women would begin to reorient from a "back to back" configuration to a "front to front" one. He envisioned an eight-step process that would transition femininity from a state of dependence and inequality toward one of independence and full equality. (For more on this see "Kabbalistic Writings on the Nature of Masculine and Feminine" by Sarah Schneider.) He foresaw that an "energy" would slowly seep into the air that would (so to speak) hover and make itself available to whomever might desire to make use of it -- much like the scientific knowledge discussed in the Zohar and even of kabbalistic knowledge itself.

Ironically, Kabbalah was intended to be the most exclusive, hidden and advanced area of Jewish study. Students were encouraged to conquer the "sea of the Talmud" along with its major commentaries, the massive compendium of its legal works and be steeped in (and living) its extensive ethical training before coming anywhere near the deepest, most esoteric and most elevated aspects of its teachings. Now, anyone with a smart phone can access information on the nature of the various spiritual words, angelic names and transcendental meditations while the person who is globally regarded as the most well-known practitioner is a pop singer. In many regards, Kabbalah is the foster child of the spiritual world -- separated from its rightful guardians and forced to dwell with (mostly well-intentioned) people who don't really understand it and more often than not inflict more harm than good. Nonetheless, those guardians need to carve out time for serious introspection and ask themselves how this state of affairs came to be.

The Jewish tradition teaches that once the global consciousness shifts and becomes "available" to the world at large it can either be picked up (and used) by forces of goodness, evil or something in between. If the spiritual community has not merited to safeguard the knowledge, it will spill over for anyone to grab. Either way, we believe that good will ultimately come from it, it's just a question of how matters will play out. Will they unfold in the healthiest, balanced and beneficial way, or will they be tainted with falsehood, confusion and "baggage"?

From this perspective, feminism was destined to enter our collective consciousness. Ideally, it would be received by well-adjusted, powerful and actualized leaders who could safely execute the integration of the concept to the world at large. That may have occurred in some cases, but in others it was accompanied by rage, vituperativeness and a tendency to self-inflict (unnecessary) wounds while its ultimate aims were achieved. Many would say it was worth the cost, others would not.

In my sophomore year of college I happened to be walking somewhere when I chanced upon a large group of women participating in a "Take back the Night" march. I stopped to show my support as I noticed several friends in the pack (and who wouldn't agree that women should be able to safely walk the streets at night)? I was shocked when many of these women -- my friends included -- scowled at me as they chanted and walked by. I was a man and that was that. My existence was enough for them to see me, in that context, as the enemy. It was then that I began to question the effectiveness, logic and health of this movement. I didn't, and still don't, question its ultimate goal, but its manner of implementation -- its occasional shrill emotionality and its hyperbolic characterizations of its perceived enemies causes me to conclude that like Kabbalah, the "energy of equality" that was introduced to humanity has been shared by two forces, one possessing a far greater sense of equilibrium than the other. Is there really a "war on women?" To my (admittedly male) ears, that sounds extreme.

Women's rights have come a very long way in a very short time. This is right and good and how things should be. It is also a facet of the plan for the ultimate unification of humanity that was foreseen centuries ago. In the long run, it will be helped along much more effectively using gentle tones, not adversarial ones, and building bridges, not ramparts.

Note: Sarah Schneider will be speaking on the topic of Kabbalah and Feminism in a rare NYC appearance on Sunday, April 29th.

Infanticide: The New Abortion

2012-03-06T12:23:18-05:00

It is frequently pointed out to me (by non-spiritual types) that civilization needs to evolve and that religion -- with its unalterable principles and absolutist moral stance -- is gumming up the works. There tends to be an assumption that society, like the evolutionary process itself, is constantly getting better. The people who fancy themselves as stewards of this process self-identify as "progressives."

Though there is no shortage of chilling philosophical conclusions when nature and society are compared, one has to wonder if the evidence for humanity's progression is anything more than a mixed bag, and at worst, actually more regressive than anything else.

The ever optimistic Hegel was of the opinion that, "The history of the world is none other than the progress of the consciousness of freedom." He wrote these words in German approximately one century before his nation gleefully vivisected freedom across all of Europe. They did this, of course, in the name of "progress," which, as is well known, was in part inspired by the writings of Charles Darwin. When the natural world is your guide, then it is only logical, only natural, that those who are less fit should be allowed to move on -- and if a little nudge in that direction is needed, then so be it. More recently, some evolutionary thinkers, chaffed by the dissonance of some of the more uncomfortable Darwinian conclusions, have expended considerable energy contorting the theory to explain that those good and fuzzy values that we all know and love were part of the evolutionary plan all along. In their thinking, being nice confers an even greater evolutionary advantage than simply decimating the competition and making off with their resources (as Darwin originally suggested).

These ideas are, of course, much older than Hegel or Darwin. An intellect no less formidable than Aristotle was perfectly comfortable with holding the position that "There must be a law that no imperfect or maimed child shall be brought up. And to avoid an excess in population, some children must be exposed. For a limit must be fixed to the population of the state" (Politics VII.16). In as much as we have supposedly progressed, we mostly consider the idea of leaving the family's newborn on the trash heap to later be hauled out with the remainders of lunch, to be fairly abhorrent. Unfortunately, in absence of those irritating absolutist principles, bad ideas, like bathroom mold, have an insidious tendency to reemerge.

It was for that reason that I found the headline of an article from the Telegraph dated March 2 to be so jarring. It was entitled "Killing babies no different from abortion, experts say." Ah, you see, they are experts -- medical ethicists associated with Oxford University, no less -- so there's really no reason to get too worked up about it. As they correctly point out, the only real difference between a late-term fetus and a newborn child is its location! If we permit the "termination" in one locale then what exactly would be the problem to do it slightly later in another? Isn't this precisely the slippery slope that those crazy and dogmatic pro-lifers have warned about for so long? Once we set foot on that road, with nothing more than our Hegelian confidence in society as our road map, it is hard to know where it will end -- though in this case it would appear that we've actually been walking in a big circle the whole time, right back to Aristotle's "exposure" suggestion. No, we're not there yet, but the fact that "ethicists" could make these assertions with straight faces should send a cold shudder down every thinking person's back.

Aristotle was a genius, but he was immoral. In some sense he can't be blamed: He did his best with what he had. In fact, Jewish tradition has a degree of respect for him. In Maimonides' case, it's something more akin to a reverence -- he got so close! But there was a major difference between Aristotle's way of thinking and that of the founder of the monotheistic tradition. Abraham, also working in a vacuum, concluded that human life was intrinsically precious -- that there is infinite value in every soul and so to frivolously dispose of them in the name of population control, gender preference, convenience or women's rights is immoral.

In truth, the Jewish perspective on this matter is somewhat more nuanced than some other, more vocal religious systems out there. We hold that abortion is permitted when there is a significant physical or psychological danger to the mother. At that point, the fetus is classified as a "pursuer" -- one who is actively threatening another's life. For that reason, we would not favor the de-legalization of abortion. In these rare cases, abortion becomes the moral course of action. But to take another's life because it simply cramps your style, knowing that there is a line around the block of young couples who are aching to adopt, is a dubious matter indeed, and once we've sanctioned it, it's just a hop, skip and a jump away from the little Oxford Mengeles and their "ethics."

The abortion question is unique in its ability to generate two utterly disparate conceptions of the same act. Is it a procedure, similar to having a bunion removed, as one side would have it? Or is it the wholesale megadeath of the other? The question neatly exposes the need for guiding principles. If they are of the absolutist (Divine) variety then the answers are generally clear. If societally constructed, then the opinions of those doctors at Oxford are a simple matter of preference -- no better or worse than any other -- but ones that can create a world that permits virtually anything, including baby-killing.

The Secret Life Of Hasidic Sexuality

2012-02-21T11:10:23-05:00

Though I am not entirely sure why, people seem just plain fascinated by the (supposedly) cloistered communities of black clad Jews who briskly swarm -- entourage and side curls in tow -- through the streets of Brooklyn, the Diamond District and Old Jerusalem. For sure, some of it is the sheer "otherness" of their look and their seeming lack of interest as to what is occurring street level, including you and all the other passers-by. But whereas the Amish seem to spark a warmer, folksy response for their dogged embrace of the sartorial choices of their 18th century forbearers, Hasidim are often treated as circus freaks for having made a similar decision. I think it is this same lurid fascination that compels us to respond to the barkers call to gawk at the bearded-lady and the boy with the lobster claw hands that draws our imaginations to contemplate Hasidic intimacy.

I saw two examples of this in action in the popular media this past week. The first was through the lens of Deborah Feldman, a former Satmar Hasid whose rejection of that tradition has recently garnered her a good measure of media exposure -- and book sales. The ladies of "The View" tremulously queried her as they might an escapee of the Taliban or some tribe of Cannibals, but the discussion could not conclude until Barbara Walters (prompted by the producer) gave her all of 60 seconds to explain the (apparently primitive) Satmar mating practices. What she did manage to cover, though it ended up sounding like some antiquated misogyny rite, formed the basis of Taharat HaMishpacha (family purity), a brilliant and beautiful concept that is practiced by religious Jews of all stripes -- from the most Hasidic to the most left-wing modern Orthodox.

To hear a better explanation of the idea, I would direct you to Oprah Winfrey's generous and open-minded interview with four Lubavitch women in Crown Heights. There too, she wanted to hear about how they had sex, but unlike Ms. Feldman, who seems to have had an unusually negative experience, these women were proud of their tradition and eager to talk about it.

In short, religious men and women physically separate during the days of menstruation and add on an additional "clean week," making about 12 days out of the month in total. This is not done, as Ms. Feldman suggests, because the women are considered "impure," which is a common and unfortunate mistranslation. Rather, the women are tameh -- a word that indicates a spiritual change as the result of the loss of potential life. When men ejaculate, they also become tameh and also require immersion in a mikvah or ritual bath (though due to the relative frequency rates, most men -- Hasidim excluded -- do not hold themselves to this standard). In neither case is there any assumption of dirtiness or lack of purity. In that same vein, a human corpse is considered the most tameh object on Earth as it is now the empty shell of a former actualized living force. The mikvah -- through its laws, dimensions and construction -- is a kabbalistic practice that restores the non-corporeal equilibrium of the practitioner.

For those who don't accept the spiritual basis for the practice, there is a sociological one as well. As correctly explained by one of the women conversing with Oprah, when there is no physical outlet available for a couple, they are compelled to deal with each other on an intellectual and emotional level. They communicate only through words and body language which engenders another -- perhaps deeper -- level of intimacy. In addition, many couples describe the conclusion of this period of separation as a monthly honeymoon, and in a time when the majority of marriages fail, sustaining the excitement level can only be a good thing. If absence makes the heart grow fonder, it does wonders for other anatomical regions. In truth, to the average observant Jew, sex is not something mundane and titillating, but, rather, holy and sacred. From this perspective, it is the puerile obsessions of the secular world which are bizarre, not the concept of family purity and seeing one's intimate life as something sanctified -- to be guarded and cherished.

Ms. Feldman also intimated that the purpose of Hasidic (aka Jewish) marital intimacy was solely to procreate. This is obviously not the case as couples continue to perform the mitzvah (right action) of intercourse during pregnancy, after menopause and when there is a biological inability to conceive. Actually, the main purpose of sex -- as explained by Jewish law -- is to create something called devek, best translated as an intense spiritual/emotional cleaving between the couple. The stringencies associated with this practice -- general separation of the genders, refraining from physical contact with the opposite sex and the modesty laws -- are all designed to promote the ardent primacy and exclusivity of the marital relationship. Nothing is meant to stand in the way of its fullest development.

Are there times when devotees, or entire communities, fall short of these lofty goals? Yes. Does that mean that their underlying principles are weird or beyond the contemplation of the average person? No. In fact, the world at large would do well to consider the adoption of a version of them. I've heard it said that divorce is the second most traumatic experience that a family can go through next to the death of a close relative. Wouldn't it be in be in everyone's interest to gird marriage to the greatest extent possible thus sparing couples, families and nations from voluminous anguish?

Their style might not be everyone's cup of tea, but in this regard, the Hasids have it right.

Prayer: It's Not What You Think

2012-02-02T15:00:29-05:00

Most spiritual traditions have a structured methodology through which they strive to make personal or collective contact with the Divine. This practice is commonly referred to as prayer or meditation, and while many might not agree with a particular practice or the enterprise in general, very large swaths of humanity looks upon it as valuable and purposeful.

There are two problems with the common perception of prayer. One is that if you believe that God answers prayers, then why is it that we so often fail to receive what we have requested? And if you believe that God will always do what's best for us regardless of what we choose to ask for, then what is the purpose of the petition in the first place?

In truth, the notion that focused communication with the Infinite would find its fullest expression in solicitations for "stuff" misses the point by a country mile.

In classical Judaism, though we may have expected it, there does not always appear to be a natural correlation between righteousness and Divine wish fulfillment. For instance, in the book of Genesis, three out of the four Matriarchs -- Sarah, Rebecca and Rachel -- have a very hard time conceiving children. Commenting on this, the Talmud notes that "God desires the prayers of the righteous." But why? It certainly can't be for His sake. The Jewish conception of God is of an infinite, loving, creating and sustaining force that needs nothing. The collective beseechings of all of humanity, cannot, by definition, help Him one iota -- after all, infinite plus 10 is still infinite.

The obvious alternative conclusion is that He desires these prayers not for Himself but for the one praying, and that the lack that we all experience (health issues, financial hardship, failing relationships, et al) has been presented to the supplicant simply as a vehicle to initiate the dialogue. What then, could be so important in this communication that would prompt the Almighty to send these wake-up messages and cause us to contend with so many unwanted and painful challenges?

In the Hebrew language, the word "to pray" is lehitpalel. Interestingly, it is a reflexive verb -- something that you do to yourself. The root of the word, palal, means "to judge," rendering the actual translation of prayer as something more akin to self-evaluation. Therefore, when a person stands before God to communicate, she is taking stock of her capabilities, current level of spiritual consciousness and willingness to accept reality for what it truly is. The deeper notion is that we are willfully trying to integrate the inescapable fact that we are utterly dependent on the Creator.

For instance, we can intend to get up and go to work, but there are countless external factors (which are beyond our control) that could easily conspire to thwart that intention. Our own lack, and the realization that the smartest, bravest and most capable people on Earth are essentially powerless to alter their circumstances without outside assistance, forces the one praying to grasp the greatness of the Provider and the great chasm that yawns between where (and Who) He is and what we and our capabilities really are. As the Talmud also teaches, "all is in the hands of Heaven, except the fear of Heaven." Fear in this context means a fear of loosing the connection with Heaven. It's explaining that, try as we might and though it may seem counter-intuitive, we have precisely zero control over what occurs around us. In actuality, the only thing that we can control is how we react to what is occurring to us.

This is an exceedingly valuable lesson to learn. Our illusion of control causes us untold amounts of pain and confusion. How many individuals have helplessly wondered, "Why is this happening to me?" How many people seethe in anger when spoken to in the wrong tone, or when they lose a job, or even when it rains at an inconvenient time? One who has fully integrated his or her true dependent status is humble, is emotionally unaffected by these difficulties, and grasps a firm rudder to navigate through life's unceasing vicissitudes. True joy comes from being anchored to what is certain. Unfortunately, virtually all that we experience in this short plane of our existence does not fall into that category. This is well understood -- "here today, gone tomorrow," as the saying goes -- and along with the loss, change or departure of that which we love, goes the equanimity of most people. Tefilah, the noun form of this process of self-evaluation, helps us come to terms with this reality -- and then transcend it.

This transcendence, and the pleasure that comes along with it, is commensurate with the extent to which one is able to integrate the truth of the one unchanging Force of reality that some of us choose to call God. There are myriad benefits embedded in this realization, including: peace of mind, patience, lack of the need to judge, calmness and optimism. The natural alternative is what Freud described in a letter to Marie Bonaparte: "The moment a man questions the meaning and value of life, he is sick, since objectively neither has any existence." That is how the clear-thinking individual feels when he or she fully accepts the void -- sans the God anchor. Without that rooting, life is intrinsically chaotic, unpredictable and upsetting. With it, those same challenging experiences are just hurdles to be scaled for the sake of an underlying good.

Crosby, Stills and Nash once sang that "confusion has its costs." And it does. As the Talmud understands matters, "there is no joy like the resolution of doubt." Our version of prayer is a key vehicle to promote that resolution, and the joy that follows in its wake.

The Jewish American Gut-Check

2011-12-15T15:43:17-05:00

A fascinating thing has transpired in the 63-year-old relationship between the Israeli Jewish population and their brethren in the American diaspora. The latter have just realized that their days are numbered -- not as a result of the encroaching existential dangers of the sort that Israel faces day in and day out -- but rather as the result of a slow implosion borne on the back of apathy, cultural acceptance and assimilation.

Ironically, no nation has been as embracing and tolerant of the Jewish people as the United States. One need only to read President Washington's remarkable letter to the Hebrew Congregation at Newport: "May the children of the stock of Abraham who dwell in this land continue to merit and enjoy the good will of the other inhabitants -- while everyone shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree and there shall be none to make him afraid."

Sadly, the American Jewish community has used this unprecedented opportunity unwisely. Instead of educating our children in the beautiful system of ethics, logic, personal growth and spirituality that is the Torah, they sought mainly to fit in with the population at large. Rather than instruct them in the miraculous and heroic history of the ancient people to whom they belong, they provided anemic and mind-numbing Hebrew School experiences and focused on making sure that they had competitive SAT scores and college-worthy extra-curricular activities. The result has been a cascading abandonment of true Judaic thought and practice and a collective spiritual ignorance that is unprecedented in our 3,000+ year project in this world. As a whole, based on the standard demographic measurements of affiliation, the American Jewish community appears terminal, and the effects are manifesting themselves now. In the words of Reform Rabbi Lance J. Sussman from 2010, "With the exception of a number of Orthodox communities and a few other bright spots in or just off the mainstream of Jewish religious life, American Judaism is in precipitous decline ... the reform movement has probably contracted by a full third in the last ten years!"

When contrasted with the continuity performance of the Israeli Jewish community, it's hard not to be shocked at the gap. Despite their highly publicized problems, the Israeli Jewish world is thriving. Among other facts, the Jewish birth rate there is the highest in the industrial world at about three children per woman. The entire population is obviously fluent in Hebrew and even the public school students get 12 years of biblical study -- both of which deeply enhance their sense of connectedness to their "Jewishness." It is commonly believed that most Israelis are secular but the truth is that in practice most Israelis are a hybrid -- incorporating many elements of Judaic practice such as having a Passover Seder, building a sukkah or lighting Shabbat candles -- without taking on the entire discipline (Hat tip: David Goldman). They also marry Jews, unlike more than 50 percent of their American counterparts. As the products of inter-marriage are statistically unlikely to be raised with any lasting Jewish knowledge or commitment and given their low birth-rates, it is simply a matter of time until the bulk of the community in America destroys itself.

This is the reason for the surprisingly antagonistic responses by secular American Jews to the Israeli government's recent ads prodding their expatriates to come home. The Atlantic's Jeffrey Goldberg says that "I don't think I have ever seen a demonstration of Israeli contempt for American Jews as obvious as these ads." He also states that in his view intermarriage "can also be understood as an opportunity."

An opportunity for what? For inter-denominational understanding yes, but as a means of preserving the Jewish nation it fails utterly -- as it always has. It's the reason that the Reform and Conservative populations are now vanishing. Any student of Jewish history knows that there have periodically arisen great new Jewish movements that deviated from the mainstream, temporarily flourished and then collapsed and disappeared. It's the reason why the once great Karaite and Sadducee communities are irrelevant or non-existent, respectively. We are witnessing the latest iteration of that ancient cycle currently and it disturbs those who are standing on the wrong side of history. Israel is once again the epicenter of Jewish life and more and more we will see religiously committed leaders taking authority over Jewish matters -- both at home and in the diaspora. Even the once spiritually bereft IDF has begun contending with the need to accommodate the recent influx and promotion of religious soldiers in its ranks.

America has indeed been an important safe-haven for the remnants of the European destruction. We have flourished materially and been granted opportunities undreamt of by our ancestors. It has been good. But now the ground has shifted, and each Jew must make his or her choice -- to continue to allow themselves to be distanced from their Judaism and their connection to the land, or to explore and (hopefully) embrace them. Israel (and traditional observance), as was foretold by the Torah and the prophets thousands of years ago, is the future: "And He will return and gather you from among all of the nations where he has dispersed you. If your dispersed ones will be even at the ends of the heavens, from there God Almighty will gather you and from there He will take you. And God your Lord will bring you to the land that your fathers inherited and you shall inherit it and He will do good for you and make you more numerous than your forefathers." (Deuteronomy 30:1-5)

That this decline will occur seems a foregone conclusion, but it does not mean that we should casually resign ourselves to it. There is a Talmudic dictum that says that "all Jews are guarantors for one another." On a practical level this means that each one of us is responsible for the physical, emotional and spiritual well-being of all the others. I cannot sequester myself in my religious enclave and spiritually satisfy myself while the vast majority of my nation cannot read two letters of their own alphabet let alone navigate the finer points of our legal, ethical and philosophical texts. All Jews must take the time and the responsibility to reach out and -- at the very least offer to -- help educate their fellow Jew. Otherwise, soon enough we won't even know who to reach out to.