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Posts Tagged ‘Torah’Deep Jewish Education for All, Talmud November 19th, 2010 By ISABEL KERSHNER, Jerusalem Journal, Published: November 18, 2010 In the 1960s, when a young Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz embarked on the mammoth task of translating the ancient Jewish texts of the Talmud into modern Hebrew and, even more daringly, providing his own commentary alongside those of the classical sages, the state of Israel was still in its teens, there were no home computers, and man had not yet landed on the moon. The monumental work took 45 years. But this month in his hometown, Jerusalem, Rabbi Steinsaltz, now 73, marked the end of the endeavor, as the last of the 45 volumes of his edition of the Babylonian Talmud, originally completed 1,500 years ago, rolled off the press. “When I began it I did not think it would be so difficult or so long,” the rabbi said in a meandering interview that went late into the night at his Steinsaltz Center for religious studies in the city’s historic Nahlaot neighborhood. “I thought it would take maybe half the time.” First, he said, there was the arrogance of youth, then financial and political obstacles, several spells in the hospital and the disruptive effect of a few wars. Rabbi Steinsaltz, frail after a recent illness, sealed his achievement on Nov. 7 with a modest closing ceremony at City Hall here and a live video linkup connecting 360 Jewish communities across 48 countries on a global day of Jewish learning in the spirit of the Talmud. Israel’s prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, sent greetings by video and, recalling his private Talmud sessions with the rabbi in the past, said they were among the most rewarding intellectual experiences of his life. The original Talmud, written in a mixture of old Hebrew and Aramaic, is all about learning. The act of learning, according to the rabbi, is the “central pillar” or “backbone” of Judaism — what connects Jews with the Almighty above, with their roots below and with one another. “This book is essential for our existence,” Rabbi Steinsaltz said. The Talmud, a compilation and analysis of oral Jewish law and ethics governing everything from marital relations to agriculture, is written as a flowing rabbinic discourse. Though the terms are archaic, many say the Talmud contains founding principles that can still be applied today. But its condensed and obscure style made it largely incomprehensible to all but serious scholars. By adding vowel markings and punctuation to the ancient text, a modern Hebrew translation that fills in gaps, and contemporary interpretations, the Steinsaltz edition aims to make the Talmud accessible to everyone. Rabbi Steinsaltz, a diminutive man with straggly hair and an unruly white beard tinged yellow after decades of smoking a pipe, is widely considered one of the most brilliant Jewish scholars of his age. He was born into what he described as a “not especially religious home”; his father was a Zionist socialist who volunteered in the international brigades in Spain. The rabbi says his religious belief developed gradually in his teens. “By nature I am a skeptical person, and people with a lot of skepticism start to question atheism,” he said. His father sent him to a Talmud tutor at the age of 10 so that he would not grow up an “ignoramus.” Later, in college, he specialized in mathematics and physics. As a result, the rabbi has an unusual ability to move easily between different worlds — secular and sacred, scientific and spiritual, earthly and divine. Though born sickly, Rabbi Steinsaltz has long compensated for the limitations of the human condition with intellectual and metaphysical flights. Among his most popular works is “The Thirteen Petalled Rose,” a journey into Jewish mysticism that he described as “a book for the soul.” Asking questions, he said, is both the secret of science and the essence of the Talmud, the dialectic forming the character of the Jewish people. He denied that his translation detracted from the book’s inner complexity and mystique. “I am not simplifying the Talmud; I am cutting some of the technical difficulties,” he said. “I am paving roads, opening doors. Not more.” Just finding the right format for the millions of words of the Talmud was a challenge. Each page consists of a central block of the original text bordered by the classical commentary, alongside the translation, new analysis and notes, each part distinguished from the others by different typefaces and fonts. Rabbi Steinsaltz began the task alone, but later found people “willing to lend a hand.” It became easier with computers — not least, he said, because his handwriting is so atrocious that he himself finds it hard to read. Some in the traditional establishment were suspicious, even hostile at first. The rabbi’s level of religiosity was in doubt, and there was a reluctance to open up locked treasures. Since he started work on it, three million volumes of the Steinsaltz edition are said to have been sold, and it has been partly translated into several other languages, including English. Today, the rabbi bridges different streams and communities within Judaism, an unusual feat helped by the fact that he chose not to associate himself fully with any one religious group, according to his son, Rabbi Menachem Even Yisrael. Rabbi Steinsaltz is now eager to get on with his other work, including a concise commentary of the Bible. He says he regularly puts in a 17-hour day. He leads Shefa, an umbrella organization for all his activities and educational institutions, including schools, seminaries and less formal centers of learning for men and women. Rabbi Even Yisrael is the executive director of Shefa, which has a United States affiliate, the Aleph Society. Known as a sharp social critic, Rabbi Steinsaltz seems to have lost none of his bite. He has little patience for vanity or pretense, and says he admires the unsparing honesty and curiosity of small children, finding them more inspiring than some adult members of the species. He is also fond of animals and spent time at the zoo, where he says he discovered how a peacock looks “undressed.” “A peacock without feathers is like a very unappealing, big chicken,” he said, adding, “There are a lot of people like that.” Tags: Jewish education, Jewish legacy, Jewish tradition, philosophy, religion, Talmud, Torah EXISTENCE, AND WHAT YOU CAN’T DO ABOUT IT - A TEACHING BY RABBI GERSHON WINKLER March 24th, 2009 Once when Rabban Gamliel was in the court of Caesar, Caesar asked him: “I have read in your people”s scriptures that your God knows how many stars there are in the heavens (Psalms 147:4). What is so great about that? I too can count the stars.” Rabban Gamliel replied: “Does Caesar know how many teeth are in his mouth?” Caesar stuck his fingers inside his mouth and began counting his teeth when the rabbi interrupted him: “You don not know what is in your mouth, yet you presume to know what is outside your mouth?” (Talmud, Sanhedrin 39a). Another version of the story: A heretic asked Rabban Gamliel, These cute stories remind us of how small we are, how little we know, how distant our perception is of the origin of life, the purpose of our being, the nature of God. They are important stories to recount again and again to remind us that our rhetoric about God is just that, rhetoric – even this very teaching! Many of us presume that we understand the “nature” of God and thus attribute to the Great Mystery the cause of all our woes, personally and globally. Where was God? We often ask when we read of tragedies, an arrogant assumption predicated on absolutely nothing more than our own home-grown notions and expectations of God. We can’t even count our own teeth without sticking our fingers in our mouths, yet we presume to know the mysteries of God. We can’t even figure out our own purpose, yet we purport to know the God’s purpose. In one of the prophet Isaiah’s many interviews with God, God is quoted as declaring: “My thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways, and as high as are the heavens from the earth, so high are my ways from your ways and my thoughts from your thoughts (Isaiah 55:8-9). To whom will you liken me? And to whom can you compare me?”(Isaiah 40:25). [Do not assume that, because I dwell within all creations that any one of them represents all of who I am, or that even all of them combined represents all of who I am, for I am more than you can ever know, far more than what I have chosen to reveal of myself.] “Who can fathom my spirit? What mortal can inform you of my plans? To whom will you equate me, and what form will you dream up to describe me?” (Isaiah 40:13). “The Torah’s warnings about punishment for wrongdoings,” wrote the great masters of the lesser-promulgated Kabbalah, “are not like we suppose, that God is executing this or that punishment upon us for this or that sin like a king punishing his servants for their failures. Rather, it is more a natural phenomenon no different than plowing and planting (Sefer HaSh’lah, Toldot Ahdam, Beyt Choch’mah, No. 3-4). How you seed the earth determines the quality of what she will yield. If you withhold goodness, if you refrain from performing a good deed when the opportunity arises, it is no different than refraining from planting a seed in the earth, and the consequence is the same: nothing will grow. And if you do wrong, it is akin to neglecting your field, or abusing the earth, and you will reap thorns and thistles, or desert sands (Rikanti on Leviticus 26:3). The ancient rabbis also taught that God shadows our attitudes and perspectives. So if we choose to be positive and cheerful, God mirrors that cheerfulness as well. If we choose to be negative and angry, God comes across as negative and angry. In other words: “I Will Be with you as you are with me” (Sefer HaSh’lah, Toldot Ahdam, Sha’ar HaGadol, No.5), as is written in Psalms: “God will shadow you”(Psalms 121:5). If things are going awry, we are taught, look inside, see what we are mirroring from the inside out, and whether it parallels what we are experiencing from outside in (Talmud, Berachot 5a). And if we can’t find anything within us that might be drawing shadows we can do without, then we are told to smile and say: So on the other hand, Judaism teaches, we are not to arbitrarily accept the blame for bad things that happen to us. Bad things can happen for the pure hell of it, too. “There is death and suffering even without sin,” taught the second-century Rabbi Shim’on ben El’azar (Talmud, Shabbat 55b). And often enough the innocent are caught up in the consequences wreaked by the guilty (Talmud, Baba Kama 16a). The 18th-century Rabbi Shimshon Rafael Hirsch summed it up this way: “The evil and challenges that come our way which God at times seems in our eyes to tolerate actually serves to ennoble us and strengthen our moral fiber. The wrong which we must sometimes endure is part of that training course of suffering that will refine us – a training that God reserves primarily for those who by their choices and actions in life have demonstrated their capacity to learn and to grow from it. This is why suffering is not given to the wicked as often as it is given to the righteous” (S.R. Hirsch in The Psalms, Vol. 2, pp. 167-169). Then again, as a second-century rabbi put it: “Don’t do me any favors; I don’t need this suffering, and I don’t need its benefits, thank you very much!” (Talmud, Berachot 5a). Sin is not so much what we believe we have done against God – quite an arrogant presumption at best. Rather, sin is more about wronging ourselves and others. It is more about self-compromise, belittling ourselves for our vulnerabilities, apologizing to God for being human. When we hide from God, then, whether out of guilt or out of spite, God, in turn will appear to be hidden from us, for that then becomes our choice for the cosmic choreography we create with Creator (Midrash Tehilim, Ch. 13). We are the ones who get angry and bear grudges, not God (Jeremiah 3:12, 7:19, and Hosea 11:8-9). Like Martin Buber put it: “One who rejects God is not struck down by lightning; one who chooses God does not find hidden treasures. Everything seems to remain just as it was. Obviously, God does not wish to dispense either medals or prison sentences” [from Literarishce Welt, published in June 7, 1929, and “What Are We to Do About the Ten Commandments?” published in Israel and the World, p. 85]. As God steps back to allow us to be fully ourselves, so we step back from our mortal assumptions and expectations and definitions to allow God the space to be God. This is a great lesson in relationship, in general, and it is one of the most important messages of the Torah. For the Torah is not a monologue, a one-sided script. It is a covenant, a relationship. “The Torah”, wrote Abraham Joshua Heschel, “is more than the word of God; it is the word of God and man; a record of both revelation and response; the drama of covenant between God and man”(God in Search of Man, pp. 260-261). And our life on earth is the stage upon which that drama is played out. Rabbi Garshon Winkler This essay was written by my dear friend and colleague Rabbi Gershon Winkler and posted with his permission. Read more inspirational teachings by Reb Gershon on his website www.walkingstick.org Tags: God, Jewish tradition, religion, reward and punishment, Sin, Spirituality, Talmud, Torah |
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