Typical Day at Tzemach Tzedek

So, it's about time that I gave some kind of description of my daily schedule.  Here's a sample, using this Tuesday as fairly typical (actually, better than many).  Now that Rabbi Eli is gone, I'm spending less time in Shiurim with him, and more time with other Rabbis, at least in terms of classes.

By the way, I've tried to attach links to any unusual terminology I may have used without thinking.  They links are for you, George, in case you're reading this.

6:50 -- Got out of bed, performed morning necessities, and left for the Beit Midrash.  I thought that we had Chasidut class this morning, but because of the Fabrengen that kept everyone up until 1:00 or 2:00 last night, we didn't.  So I continued to read from my Tanakh, finishing the final chapters of Chronicles, and reading some more Psalms, including what might be one of my favorites, 119.

9:00 -- Shacharit in the Synagogue.  Chabad takes a really long time for prayer, so I had enough time to actually say every part of P'sukei D'zimra, which is very unusual for me.  I needed to wait for my friend Yosi to finish, so I waited for everyone to finish, which didn't happen until nearly 10:40 (I wonder if community members have problems with their employers, because they can't realistically make it to work until 11:00, and I see them in the Beit Midrash at the middle of the day).  I kept on reading Psalms, and made it to 145, Ashrei.

10:40 -- Left the Synagogue with Yosi, who showed me the way to the bank and the post office.  I needed to withdraw money (I only had 8 shekels left -- sorry, parents, but I'm trying to be financially responsible!).  I then went to the post office to mail four postcards, to Eliezer's bookstore to buy four more, and back to the dormitory for a breakfast of some porridge with fruit.  On the way back to the dorms, I saw a very upsetting incident on the street.  However, it could just have been because of cultural differences in Israel and the U.S. that I found it so upsetting.

11:15 -- I arrived back at the Beit Midrash, in time for Gemara lesson with Rav Asi.  Not everyone was on time, and I have the chance to ask Rabbi Pasternack about the event on the street, and what I might or might not have been obligated to do under such circumstances.  In class, the course got caught up in some pilpul.  We're looking at a dispute between Rabbi Yehuda and Rabbi Nachman, in tractate Bava Kama, over the circumstances under which a person may take the law into his own hands (in my opinion, a very important question).  Pretty much, the two agree that a person should always defend his property when it's in immediate danger, but they tried to search for a certain case in which there was clearly no immediate danger, in order to resolve the dispute.  (According to my reading of the text, there's actually a third opinion, held by Rabbi Chisda, that a person may under no circumstances defend his property out of court, but he's clearly in a 2-to-1 minority.)  Today, because one student and Rav Asi got in a dispute over the mathematics of logic, in relationship to a Baraita.  I now know this Baraita all too well.  Here is a paraphrase: If a man sees his neighbor's ox getting on top of his own ox in order to gore it, and he pulls his ox out from under it, and the other ox falls and dies as a result, then he is exempt from payment; but if (under the same circumstances) he pushed his neighbor's ox off of his ox, and his ox died, then he is liable for payment.  In any case, the argument lasted so long that we missed our Halachah class with Rabbi Gorenstein, which typically lasts from 1:00 until 1:30, in which we're learning the laws of making Kiddush on Friday nights.  (I'm hoping that we'll get to the issue of the validity of grape juice, which a very good friend of mine has questioned, and which I therefore would like to know more about.)

1:30 -- Minchah.  Done and done.

1:50-2:50 -- Read Kitzur Shulchan Aruch on hurtful speech (cursing, insulting,etc) with Ben.  Ordinarily, we would have instead reviewed Gemara together, but because of today's lack of progress, we never got very far in class, so we read the Halachic work instead.  We are learning, for instance, that one may not misdirect people in commerce, call someone by an insulting nickname even if that nickname has become thoroughly attached to him or her, ask someone a difficult question to which one knows the respondent does not know the answer, or insistently invite one's neighbor to one's house.

2:50-4:15 -- Read the book of Jeremiah with Ari, alternating by chapter, with some discussion.  Got through chapters 5-16, or so, I think.  Visions, prophecies, denunciations, false prophets, corrupt monarchs, idolatry, Babylonians at the gate -- all in a day's work.  I'm glad to be returning to this prophetical book; in fact, I think that I should really go back and review all of the Former Prophets, and then the three Major Prophets.  In other words, I have a lot of homework to do!

4:15-6:30 -- Two back-to-back classes with Rav Asi.  The first one was on relating certain Psalms to certain events in King David's life, with relevant midrashim, etc.; today, the topic was David's annointment as king.  The second class is based on a sicha by the Rebbe on spiritual challenges.

6:30-7:40 -- Cross-referenced in Bava Mezia 58b-59a of passages from Kitzur Shulchan Aruch with Ben.  We learned some interesting things.  Also, I finished the book of Psalms, and tried my best to continue reading Mishnah Bava Kama, reviewing legal responsibility for damage caused by one's livestock's feet (and, by extension, all damage caused by animals' general movements, excluding eating and deliberate attacking).  I'm doing my best to understand as much as possible of each Mishnah in Hebrew; Rabbinic Hebrew, at least in this tractate, tends to be both very simple and very repetitive.  I really like the Kahati edition that I'm using (recommend to me by both Eli and Peninah), which includes a brief summary of the associated Gemara and other famous interpretations, in order to give the reader some idea of the classical understanding of the Mishnah.

7:40-9:00 -- Two back-to-back classes with Rabbi Gorenstein.  The first is on Tanya, continuing with chapter 12.  The second I didn't really understand, we became so sidetracked, but it was more Chasidut.

9:00 -- Ben and I run back to quickly eat dinner, of vegetable soup, with some cold salad.  We walk back with Dovid.

9:30 -- Ma'ariv.  Done and done.

10:20 -- Back at the dorm, in time for my least favorite part of the day: e-mail and other computing.  I have a huge pile I need to answer every day, and I don't even have time to write certain important ones.  I also wrote all of the last post, and most of this one, too.

2:30 -- Bed, really tired, by now.

~JD

כיצד השן מועדת לאכול את הראוי לה"
הבהמה מועדת לאכול פרות וירקות
"אכלה כסות או כלים משלם חצי נזק


[In what case is the tooth (of the animal) fully liable (for the damage it causes)?  For eating what is natural for it.  The beast is fully liable in regards to eating fruits and vegetables. (For) eating a garment or utensils, (the owner) pays for half of the damages] (Bava Kama 2:2).

Tzav Tropical Sermon

 With another year's Tropical Sermon Contest come and gone (mad props to Elliot Dine and Perry Swergeld, by the way, for coming in 3rd and 2nd, respectively), I thought I'd fulfill my promise to publish my sermon, on parshah Tzav, on my blog.  Enjoy, for those of you interested in such things!

            Shabbat Shalom, everyone!  This week we read Parshah Tzav, the second parshah in the book of Vayikra.  In this portion, Moshe initiates Aharon and his sons into the priesthood, and sanctifies an altar for their use.  He clothes Aharon in the garments of the Kohen Gadol and the other kohanim in their own uniforms, anoints them with oil, and places blood on their right thumbs, their right big toes, and the outer cartilage of their right ears.  Most importantly, he carefully instructs them in the process of the korbanot, or offerings, including peace offerings (Zevach Hashlamim), the twice-daily meal-offerings, etc.  This section concludes with the verse

הַשְּׁלָמִים וּלְזֶבַח וְלַמִּלּוּאִים וְלָאָשָׁם וְלַחַטָּאת לַמִּנְחָה לָעֹלָה הַתּוֹרָה זֹאת

This is the law for the burnt offering, for the meal offering, for the sin offering, for the guilt offering, for the investitures, and for the peace offering (7:37).

            There are times at which reading the Torah feels much like reading a textbook.  This week’s portion is such a time.  The word Torah itself means something like “instruction” or “guide,” and I think that it is with this in mind that we should approach Tzav as well as last week’s parshah Vayikra, reading them as a guide to korbanot, written in large part for the practical use of the kohanim.  That being said, even in the absence of the Beit Hamikdash, the portion should remain important to the rest of us, as do all parts of the Torah.  As Rabbi Shimon says in Pirkei Avot (4:13), while the crown of priesthood may belong to the kohanim, the crown of Torah belongs to us all.  The law is all of ours to study and educate ourselves. It is worth mentioning that by spelling ou the process of the korbanot so explicitly in the book of Vayikra, Judaism prevents the monopolization of knowledge by an esoteric priesthood.  As Rabbi Tzvi Freeman has observed, even young children would be able to notice and point out errors in the Kohanim’s procdures.  It is also for this same reason, the education of all in the Jewish law, that the book of Devarim instructs all Jews to write their own Sefer Torahs (Devarim 31:19), a mitzvah now usually observed by giving a copy of the Tanakh or the Chumash to B’nai Mitzvot.  In this way, all Jews may study and learn the law.

            Instruction and education are very important Jewish values.  Knowledge of the law and ethics of the Tanakh and the Talmud is necessary to making the right choices, when leading a moral life as an observant Jew.  This is as true for the process of making sacrifices as it is for the proper recitation of Ashrei as it is for the knowledge of when it is and is not acceptable to lie.  As Hillel states in Pirkei Avot, “a brutish man cannot fear sin [and] an ignorant man cannot be pious” (2:6).  In other words, education and knowledge are necessary for an upright lifestyle.  I think that it is at this point of the year, in the month of Nissan, that teaching, learning, and education should be on all of our minds.  The core of the Seder of Pesach is the mitzvah to teach future generations an important chapter in our national history, specifically, the exodus from Egypt, when God began his relationship with the entirety of the Jewish people, rather than specific individuals, namely the Avot (Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov).  It is written in the book of Shemot, “And you shall tell your son on that day, saying, "Because of this, the Lord did for me when I went out of Egypt" (13:8).  The education of future generations is necessary for maintaining the Jewish tradition and way of life.

            Although I have been speaking specifically of Jews, this is a sermon on American values, and the six and half million American Jews (to whom the 613 commandments apply) make up only about two percent of the country’s population of around 312 or 313 million people.  For this reason I emphasize that just as education is necessary for an observant Jew, it is also necessary for a responsible American citizen.  The Founding Fathers firmly believed that education was necessary for the formation of informed citizens who could vote responsibly in a republican form of government.  For instance, the Northwest Ordinances of 1787 set aside the 16^th of the 36 sections of each new township in the Northwest Territories to provide land and funding for a public school.  The bill explicitly stated that “morality, and knowledge being necessary to good government and the happiness of mankind, schools and the means of education shall forever be encouraged.”  Of the thirty-nine men who signed the Constitution, sixteen of them sat in the First Congress which unanimously passed this bill; a seventeenth, President George Washington, signed the bill into law.  (Therefore when I say that the founding fathers supported public education, I am neither being vague about which founders I mean, nor about just what I mean by support.)

            The provision of land for public schools, however, is only an auxiliary measure of the Northwest Ordinances, one of the most important bills passed by the first Congress.  The main purpose of the bill was to regulate land distribution in the Ohio Valley and beyond for the ever-moving westward frontier of the young nation (yes, I know that there were American Indians already inhabiting this land, whom the lawmakers did not take into account, but that is the topic for another time).  Those of you familiar with the Northwest Ordinances, the Homestead Act of 1862, and other historic land bills know that land was parceled out in portions large enough for a family, these bills requiring that the owners remain on the land for several years before they could officially take possession of the property from the government.  American values held that every family had the right to its own plot of land, to hold as self-sufficient, independent producers.  This same importance placed upon the rights of all people to a plot of their own land, we also find later in the book of Vayikra, in which it is stated that every plot of land be redistributed every fifty years to its original patrilineage:

אֲחֻזָּתוֹ אֶל אִישׁ תָּשֻׁבוּ הַזֹּאת הַיּוֹבֵל בִּשְׁנַת

During this Yovel year, you shall return, each man to his property (Vayikra 25:13).

            This practice prevented too much land, the most important form of property throughout most of the history of human civilization, from being concentrated in too few hands, a concern from earliest times.  For instance, in the early 6^th century B.C.E., the late years of the First Temple period in the kingdoms of Yehudah (while these agricultural laws were still in effect), in the Greek city-state of Athens, maldistribution of wealth created civil strife, as the poor had no choice but to use their own persons as collateral to secure usurious loans from the wealthy landed aristocracy.  The situation remained unstable even after the cancellation of debts by the famous legislator Solon (in the famous σεισάχθεια, or “shaking off of bonds”) and social unrest continued for decades in Attica.  The law of the Yovel promoted social justice in the land of Israel, seeking to ensure that all families would have the economic means of supporting themselves.

            I argue that this insistence on independent means, enshrined in both 18^th- and 19^th-century America and in the Torah, is the importance which we place on one’s ability to provide for oneself as a social goal.  We find this same ethic in the Talmud: Rabbi Yehuda said, "Anyone who does not teach his son a trade teaches him thievery" (Kiddushin 30b).  In other words, an inability to provide for oneself leads directly to crime and to social disorder.  It is in the interest of both the individual and the rest of society that he or she not find him- or herself with no income, no job, and no assets.

            In our postindustrial society, where virtually all farming is done by large corporations, and the traditional family farm is a rarity, the ability to provide for oneself no longer depends upon land tenure.  Rather, it depends upon labor: today, about 65% of all personal income in the United States is accounted for by employees’ wages.  And labor, that is, the ability to take and keep a job, depends upon education.  According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor statistics, the 2011 unemployment rate for Americans without a high school diploma was 14.1%, the rate for those with only a high school diploma was 9.4%, the rate for those with a bachelors’ degree was 4.9% (all statistics cover only those over the age of 25).  Wages also depend on level of education: the median annual wage of a high school dropout is $23,452, whereas that of a holder of a bachelor’s decree is $54,756, more than twice as much.

            Yet the public education system in the United States is in decline today, millions of Americans lack even high school diplomas, and “young Americans today are less likely than their parents were to finish high school.”  Public education in the United States is also in decline relative to the rest of the world: According to a study at Michigan State University, “A slightly higher proportion of American adults qualify as scientifically literate than European or Japanese adults.”  Our national level of education is also in decline relative to its own past: in the late 18^th century, the United States had the highest literacy rate in the world, but a report from the United Nations Development Programme in 2011 ranked it as 10^th in the world in literacy.  The absolute figures are sometimes staggering: although there are several different figures as to how many American adults are illiterate, dependent partially upon the precise definition of literacy, the National Right to Read Foundation estimated the figure at 42 million in 2002, while the U.S. Department of Education placed it at 32 million, or about one in seven, in 2009.

            Although adult education is a cure such problems, an improved system of primary and secondary school education is more effective as a preventative measure to illiteracy and ignorance.  Federal and state money cannot solve everything: Brazil lavishes money on its very poor system of public schooling, and yet its literacy rate remains at only 90%.  That being said, I strongly disagree with Governor Rick Perry, who in November made the campaign promise to abolish the Education Department if elected President.  In this year’s State of the Union Address, President Obama recommended that all states pass laws that students not be allowed to leave high school until they either graduate or reach the age of 18; this would be a bold move, but I see its passage, especially in all fifty states, as highly unlikely.  Many point out to the low standards of teaching in the United States, which I have personally experienced.  In my senior year of high school, my Government teacher, despite having been born in New York, having attended Buffalo State University, and teaching at Ithaca High School, was able to name neither the governor at the time (David Paterson), nor his recently-resigned predecessor (Eliot Spitzer).  The woman to whom my training in civics was entrusted was working a second job as a waitress, and could think of no lesson plan more creative than showing video clips from YouTube.  Many suggest that we need is a new generation of passionate, informed teachers.  Some members of the Cornell Jewish community are contributing to this effort: seniors Nate Schorr and Sarah Myers will be Teaching for America this coming year, and I wish them both all the luck in the world in the paths that lie ahead of them.

            In John Steinbeck’s classic novel Of Mice and Men, the story’s protagonists, George and Lenny, dream of a day when they will no longer labor as migrant workers, living hand-to-mouth, from one week’s wages to another.  I believe that this American dream, of a time when we might all secure safety under our own vines and fig trees, is possible only through education.  My own grandfather, Bernard Davis of blessed memory, worked at a printshop by day, and took night classes in order to earn his degree.  He went on to become a high school math teacher, and was able to send all three of his own children to college, two of whom now teach.  This, in a sense, was his American dream, and without his hard work to educate himself, I would not be where I am right now: I do not owe my place here in Cornell to my own merit.  We should be cautious about being overly prideful in our own talents and accomplishments.  As we approach Pesach, the most educational of all holidays, in which we are instructed to recount our people’s history to our children, let us bear in our hearts the two-and-a-half-millennium old words of the prophet Yirmiyahu, which conclude this week’s Haftorah: “Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom, nor the strong man boast of his strength, nor the rich man boast of his riches.” (9:22).  Rather, we should be conscious of the roles our teachers and communities have played in our own formation as mature Americans.  May you have a Shabbat Shalom.

~JD

"La position des Italiens vis-à-vis de la Solution finale en Europe a rendu extrêmement difficile l’application des mesures recherchés" [The position of the Italians regarding the Final Solution in Europe rendered the application of the sought-after effects extremely difficult] (Heinrich Müller, as quoted in Serge Klarsfed, La Shoah en France, 234).