Dedication
We met at the JCCSF on November 19, 2017. Rabbi Peretz dedicated our learning to his teacher Dr. Jacob Rader Marcus
(1896-1995). See American
Jewish Archives. Jacob Marcus was
the Dean of American Jewish history working closely (with his colleague, Dr.
Ellis Rivkin). Marcus wrote an influential book that looked at Jews in the
medieval world: Jews
in the Medieval World: a Sourcebook 315-1791 (1938). Ellis Rivkin took
it a step further, looking specifically
at the economics of the Babylonian empire and its effects on the Talmud. He
also explored the effects of the collapse of the Sasanian empire (224 CE- 651
CE) on Judaism. Rivkin’s book was called The
Shaping of Jewish History (1971).
Introduction
We last left the rabbis discussing the call-and-response,
sing-song zimmun which starts the
blessing after meals, the Birkat Hamazon. The rabbis explored when do we say
the zimmun (when there are three
eaters), who counts for a zimmun, and
then who gets to recite the blessing after meals. There is he who breaks bread,
the host, the guest of honor, the greatest in the bunch . . . so many
possibilities. The rabbis continue their discussion focusing on whether Grace
after meals consists of “two and three blessings” or “three and four
blessings,” what is optional, and what is not, how far the zimmun blessing extends, what happens to the blessing after meals when
one interrupts a meal, the order in which diners are to recline on a divan
during a festive meal, the order in which they are to wash their hands (both
before and after the meal), who gets to cross a bridge first on a donkey, who
gets to enter doorways marked with a mezuza first, and the order in which we
are to eat when three dine from a single dish. [Berakhot 46a (p299) to 46b (p.
302)]
Scant Direction in
Proof Text
We recalled how the blessing after meal is one of the few
blessings mandated by Torah-- Deuteronomy
8:10: “And you shall eat and be satisfied, and bless Adonai your God
for the good land which God has given you.”
But Deuteronomy 8:10 provides us with no direction of how to
do this blessing. By the time the Babylonian Talmud is closed in 500 CE the
rabbis have put considerable flesh on this skeleton. But the blessing after
meal has never been truly fixed. Rabbi Zeira said, any mitzvah we should do
(like reciting the blessing after meal), we should spend one-third more on it
to do it aesthetically. We should make it beautiful. Over time ornaments are
added.
The addition of the zimmun
to the blessing after meals is an aesthetic move. We sing. It is reminiscent
of the Levites who sang in the temple.
It evokes the shores of the Red Sea where we sang. By singing together
we evoke continuity. It makes the ceremony flow.
The discussion of aesthetics, said Peretz, over time, goes
to the balance point between spending on aesthetics and spending on the poor:
spending on a meal and spending on feeding people. It’s the age-old
conversation of where we put our resources. We’re involved in it at a national
level, and on a personal level.
Four Parts of Birkat
HaMazon
After the introductory zimmun
(three or more eaters), the Birkat Hamazon has four parts: (1) we bless the
food we just ate; (2) we bless the good earth and the food it provides; (3) we
bless (the hope of) rebuilding Jerusalem; and (optionally) (4) we bless God who
is good and does good.
The third blessing (rebuild Jerusalem) is in the Birkat
hamazon because we’re serious: “we want Jerusalem rebuilt!” The blessing after
meals is a way to negotiate our deepest held wants. The wish to see Jerusalem
rebuilt shows up also, for example, at the end of the Passover Seder, at the
end of Yom Kippur (Nehila service), and in the seven blessings of the marriage
ceremony. We want to end the need for all this rabbinic negotiation, to end
exile. In Jerusalem, no acculturation is needed, and there is no need to
accommodate anyone else—or thus went the fantasy.
Aside One. Political
Zionism vs. aspirational Zionism:
aspirational Zionism starts in 70 CE upon destruction of the temple;
political Zionism starts after 1880, when there is a political possibility
(colonial period).
The DOS of Siddur
Hebrew
“Translation of a text,” says Deborah
Cook, “involves . . . a coherent deformation of that text. As deforming a
text, the translation will call its very significance into question.” It’s a universal problem of translation. But
as the snippet that is available to us from Cook’s article suggests, reading an
original text also involves an act of translation. That is especially true when
we read a 2500 year-old text. Whether we know Hebrew and Aramaic, or not, we
don’t read the words of Torah with the same cultural connotations and referents
with which the temple priests would have read them, or with which Judah HaNasi
would have read them, or with which rabbi Hunan in Persia would have read them.
Whether we read these texts in English or in Hebrew or in Aramaic, we are
reading them in translation.
There is a struggle underway to bring back Hebrew as the
operative language of the Jewish people, says Peretz. It’s a battle between no
Hebrew vs. modern (Israeli) Hebrew vs. prayer book Hebrew. The combatants are orthodox
and nationalist Israelis on the one hand (e.g. Sharansky), and Diaspora Jews
with their (mostly) English vernacular on the other. And at the heart of this
battle for Judaism, is the siddur, not the bible, suggests Peretz. When they
arrived at Ellis Island, most Jews had a siddur in hand, not the bible. The siddur
is full of blessings. It’s the connection between the people.
“Can we teach values Hebrew? That’s the party I belong to,”
says Peretz.
The Hebrew of the siddur has an operative language, suggests
Peretz. The DOS of siddur Hebrew is about 15 key Hebrew terms. You don’t have
to know Hebrew, but you do have to know the key terms. If you know: Kodesh,
bracha, tefillah, you are empowered. Literacy in this sense does not mean
fluency, suggests Peretz. See Judaism
101 on tefilah (prayer). English only may not be enough, but with English
and the DOS of siddur Hebrew we can get by.
First there is a contract with God, and we say “You are our
hero,” “we are so grateful!” Then there is a dialogue inside these texts, says
Peretz: in the siddur, in the Birkhat Hamazon, in everything. It’s a dialogue
of exile and the wish to end exile; a dialogue of communitarianism (the need to
gather as communities), and then to figure out how to do things so everyone
doesn’t leave the room. That is what the Talmud is struggling with, says
Peretz.
In English the term “bless” connotes
both to make holy (to hallow or consecrate, to set aside for holy use), and to
praise and glorify. But in biblical Hebrew, says Peretz, the word “baruch” conveys
more an attitude of thanksgiving. Every move is a thanksgiving. “Baruch” means
to lower yourself. It is to humble ourselves before God, suggested Cliff Detz.
Aside Two. Animals
eat without humbling, without gratitude.
It’s the one attribute that separates us from animals. To act beastly is, above all, to be “ungrateful.”
Talmud is trying to give us these core values of gratitude
and humility and community. That’s what
Mishna and Talmud are trying to do in the Birkat Hamazon, says Peretz.
Quoting Torah through
a Greco Roman Lens, in Persia
Canaanite/Israelite Judean/Greco
Roman Persia/Sasanian
[lots of female presence] [gender tension] [male patriarchy]
Rabbi Zeira, who appears on p. 298 of our Berakhot 46a, was
a third generation Amoraim (~290-320 CE). He was born and schooled in Babylon
but then moved back to Israel. Like rabbi Zeira, the text keeps bouncing
between the Mishnaic level (Judah HaNasi) and the Talmudic level. Judah HaNasi (the
redactor of the Mishna, which closes in 200 CE in Zippori) is quoted a lot, as
is Rav Huna who is in Persia. Talmud is quoting Torah through the lens of the
Mishna, in Persia.
This process does not end. Later commentators, e.g. Rashi,
living in France in a time of the crusades, is trying to navigate for his
community at that time. We are trying to navigate this material for our
community today.
1. Canaanite Period
Torah, writings, songs, proverbs, prophets were all written during
the Canaanite time period. The poetics, the imagery, the Hebrew language, are all
Canaanite. This period has a powerful female presence. The women in Torah:
Sarah, Rachel, Leah, Rebecca, Naomi, Ruth, Esther, are dominant and powerful
literary figures. This is all consistent with Canaanite culture, which is
heavily feminine. E.g. Ashera,
the goddess of the north, which becomes the tribe of Asher—retrospectively.
Proverbs (and some psalms) are written down during the
bronze age; when we get to David and the Monarchy we are in the iron age. There
are better weapons. In first and second
Samuel, the people were really aware that the Phoenicians have chariots, and chariots
are really terrifying. We move from
kingdoms to empires.
Debra is the only woman judge who is named, but she is a
major figure, also a military leader. The Davidic period follows. “Give us a
king.” Deborah emerges and David is anointed. We have a religious system in the
land of Israel, we are Israelites.
2. Judean Greco/Roman Period
After the fall of Jerusalem in 70 CE we have Mishna and the
start of the rabbinic period. Mishna is an organizational period. With its four children, four sons—it strives
to create order out of chaos.
The Mishna means we can now travel anywhere in this world
and integrate and join another community: their Shema and Baruch Hu will be
like mine; their Passover Seder will be like mine; their Shabbat table will
look pretty much like my Shabbat table. That’s the mission of the Mishna: to
create a civilization without land.
There is tension between the genders in Mishna. You have the
Matrona and other figures in the Roman world as icons in Mishna, but it is
moving towards patriarchy.
3. Babylon
When we get to Persia, patriarchy is in full bloom. Genders
are extremely controlled. Tensions built as we dragged Canaanite (Israelite) religion
through Greco-Roman lands into Persia. Tova Hartman speaks of
the anxiety of the Talmud trying to deal with all these elements.
There may be separation in Babylon, yet at the Passover
Seder, they still needed men, women, and children all together because at
Exodus we were all together. The rabbis are rowing hard with this tension because
in Persia women don’t sit with men, and children don’t eat together with
adults. The rabbis expend a lot of effort in Talmud to defend this move of
“being together.”
Mishna still has consciousness of fluidity of gender. It
mentions androginos, it mentions children born without clear sexual identity.
There are ponderings in Mishna about relationship between Jonathan and David.
In Persia this is all shut down.
4. Later Effects
In Europe, Judaism was extremely affected by Catholicism,
and in the Middle East and North Africa by Islam. For example, said Peretz, at a
wedding last week he was challenged whether a ketubah can have any
representations on it. The Islamic
tradition, of course, is no representative figures. Many Jewish communities
adopted this taboo. “I sent him back an image of a Florentine ketubah, with big
chubby cherubs, and on the sides scenes from the bible with men and women in
it. If we were still living in
Darmstadt, or Isfahan, then yes . . . no representations. But in Florence it
was not true, and since this wedding was in Sonoma, it’s really, really not true,”
said Peretz.
We are affected by the culture we live in, especially about
gender. No one knows about the division of gender in sanctuaries in the biblical
period, or in the Mishnaic period. There is no record whatsoever about
separation of men and women in the land of Israel. It is not mentioned. Separation is a Persian influence. It’s an
Islamic import. This somehow carried over into Poland, where the women were extremely suppressed
and everyone is wearing black!
Segregation of the sexes applied to sanctuaries. The Kotel
(Western Wall) was not a synagogue, pre-state. At tombs, for example, men and
women could always pray together. Talmud does not deal with that.
Aside Three. “Maimonides had a problem with fetishes—I
don’t know what he would think about the wall right now,” says Peretz.
Separation at the wall today is a political move by Netanyahu’s government to
appease the Orthodox. “And where do
Orthodox find their authority, (for gender separation at the Kotel)” asks
Alicia Lieberman. “It’s reframing,” says Peretz. “You take a holy site and make it a synagogue
and now all the rules applicable to medieval synagogue behavior apply. In the 1920’s
nobody considered the Kotel a synagogue.”
Aside 4. Kippot. Moses Isserles wrote a
responsa on kippot. He wrote clearly: “I don’t know where this is coming from,
Jews wearing head coverings.” It’s not in Torah, not in Mishna. “We know where
it comes from,” says Peretz. “This comes from Islam.” Isserles, says “I can’t find it anywhere, but
the people want it.” So we’ll do it,
we’ll wear kippot.
Cliff Detz suggested, other scholars said it goes back very
far. Gods were up in the mountains, and it was not prudent to bear one’s head
to the Gods.
Aside Five. Ripples
of time. There is half-wheeling going on
all the time. The requirement for 100 blessings is amped up from anything that
can be found in Torah. “He’s such a tzadik, he wears a kippa at night!” And it’s
not long before someone gets the idea. Grandparents can be seen placing a kippa
on a baby at it’s briss, even though the kippa won’t stay on . . . . Part of this comes
from our migrations, suggests Peretz. We have elements of the past colliding
with the present. There are ripples of the present, and ripples from the past . . .
and we wait for them to collide.
Aside Six. Teiku. When the discussion gets too
esoteric, there is always the option to punt: teiku. Not all questions must be resolved right now.
“We’re just going to leave it,” can be a good response. For example, all those additions
to the Birkat Hamazon: “It doesn’t matter.” It’s O.K. to do it differently. We
do the basic three paragraphs together, then the workers go about their
business; the kids head for the pool. If you want to stay and expand on the
blessing, it’s O.K. Another example: how many days before Passover does one
change the dishes, three days? One day? The Talmud says teiku. You’ll all arrive at the Seder, so we won’t legislate this,
say the rabbis. Teiku leaves things unfinished.
Like bursa, teiku allows for some
movement and flexibility.
Aside Seven. In
the Persian period (200-600 CE) we had the exilarch, the leader
of the Jewish Community in Babylon. The exilarch was a primary contact person
for Persian officials. Persian officials come to his house, and so the exilarch
served as a conduit of Persian customs to the Jewish community. What happens in the house of the exilarch becomes
a microcosm of how we behaved in Persia. Today we have Jewish Community Relations
Councils (JCRC’s) whose mission is to be interlocutors to greater world. We need someone to explain ourselves.
Recently, Jewish Federations that had dissolved local JCRC’s are rebuilding
them. We need a group of people who have the phone numbers of people in power.
Freeing up One’s Time
for what Matters
What’s really important to remember when we look at Talmud,
says Peretz, is that we are looking at a working document. It’s the work of a
committee. In the flow of Jewish law, as we move through time, the next great
move after the Babylonian Talmud is the Mishne Torah
by Maimonides (1135-1204). It was conceived as a concise guide to the entire
system of Jewish law.
Aside eight. Maimonides
completed his Mishne Torah (“review of the Torah”) in 1180. The crusades were
well underway. [200 years of crusades: first crusade 1095-1099; second crusade
1147-1149; third crusade 1189-1192; fourth Crusade 1202-1204; fifth crusade
1213-1221; the fall of Acre, the last crusader city in Israel, was in 1291;
this marked the end of the crusades]
People couldn’t cope with the Talmud as a daily guide, says
Peretz. It’s too voluminous, and not decisive. The goal of Mimonides was to make
the law accessible to all. But at fourteen “books” and 463 pages in length (the copy at
the Library of Congress), the Mishne Torah is still very complex.
In 1563 in Safed, rabbi Yoseph Caro (1488-1575) made his own
compendium of Jewish law (the Shulkahn Aruch, or “set table”) in a further
effort at making Jewish practice definitive and accessible. Caro took the
Maimonides Mishneh Torah, and reduced it to a (relatively) compact book. For
example, one version (Hebrew only) comes in at 362
pages. It was first published in Venice in 1565.
Caro’s Shulchan Aruch, which reflected Sephardic law, had
four sections, each subdivided into many chapters and paragraphs: 1) Orach
Chayim – laws of prayer and synagogue, Sabbath, holidays; 2) Yoreh De'ah – laws
of kashrut; religious conversion; Mourning; Laws pertaining to Israel; Laws of
family purity; 3) Even Ha'ezer – laws of marriage, divorce and related issues;
and 4) Choshen Mishpat – laws of finance, financial responsibility, damages
(personal and financial), and the rules of the Bet Din, as well as the laws of
witnesses.
Moses Isserles (1530-1572) took Caro’s work and added notes
where Ashkenazi tradition differed from the Sephardi tradition as noted by Caro.
His interlined work, the HaMapah (“tablecloth”) became the definitive Shulchan
Aruch since 1574. It became very popular.
“Why does a mystic want to write a book on manners?” queried
Peretz. “It organizes your time for more important things.” We don’t want to
waste time on this basic stuff. It frees up our time for what really matters.
Our table has moved, from Palestine to Persia, to Eastern
Europe. And we are in San Francisco.
Havruta
And we spent a cacophonous half hour studying the text on
pp. 299-302. We studied in pairs, and
threes. It’s not nearly enough to understand. But perhaps sufficient for what
we need here and now.
We read “Who is good and does good. . .” and we think of
moments of communal gathering. We are gathered in havruta. We note we don’t
need a minion: two is enough. We don’t need a rabbi, although we are very
grateful for Peretz in the room. “We don’t need the professionals to dig into
these texts,” suggests Peretz, but when it comes to Talmud, we are skeptical.
Where would we be without him? Adrift in a sea of Talmud without engine, sail,
or paddle. “We don’t need the performative,” says Peretz. It’s the community that
conducts and sings these songs of the siddur.
Aside Nine. “Talmud
is like a family album,” suggests Peretz. “We keep adding to it, and it’s very hard
to edit things out of it.”
We note that mourners, halachically are not required to say the
Birkat Hamazon. “It’s too hard, so they are excused,” says Peretz. The Kaddish
has no blessing, we noted. Mourning is beyond all. We have nothing to say. “May
you be consoled” is what we say to mourners.
We note the recurring formulation: “begin and end with blessed.” We note that a whole series of
blessings have Baruch at the beginning and Baruch at the end: the Hamotzi, the Hamazon,
the Amidah, the Kiddush, the Haftorah blessing. We start and end with blessings,
it’s the formulation.
The rabbis are disputing and we wonder “Where does it end?”
What’s the point?” “The reality is,” says Peretz, “the rabbis are not
originating these moves, they are managing them. They never say they are making
it up . . ., they are trying to follow the trend of the Mishnah and to organize
it.” The addition of the zimmun, for example, was not authored by Talmud (likely) but recorded and unified by
Talmud.
And as they dispute, the rabbis see endless issues. For
example, on p. 299 5th para. “Yosef said know that the blessing ‘who
is good and does good, is not required by Torah law, as laborers eliminate it.”
Rabbi Yosef is speaking of the fourth blessing of the Birkhat hamazon: the rabbis added
it. Laborers and workers, they have to get back to work; kids have to go to the
pool. We don’t all have time for every embellishment and ornament. The rabbis
recognize there are limits to how long we can compel people to do this? People
have to mourn, they have to be able to move on, they have to work; kids have to
get to the pool. We are gathered in community and we have to figure out how to
do things so everyone doesn’t leave the room. We have to keep the material
relevant.
The baseline of the blessing after meals is “You ate, you
are satisfied, you bless.” Can we say all else is
commentary, after Hillel. And so “We excuse laborers from length and
mourners from depth,” says Peretz.
Our next class at JCCSF is December 3, 2017 at 10:00 a.m.
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