Two Modern Holidays

 Q: Why is there a Yom Yerushalayim (Jerusalem Day) when we already have a Yom Ha-Atzmaut (Israel Independence Day)?

 

A: In 1948 the country of Israel was declared.  For almost two decades the city of Jerusalem remained in Jordanian hands, not part of the Jewish state.

On Iyar 28, May 1967 the Israelis achieved an incredible victory against massive odds weighed against them and regained the long lost privilege to pray at the Western Wall in Jerusalem.  Until then, Jews were stopped by the Arab authorities and thugs from approaching the sacred outer wall of the Temple in the Old City of Jerusalem.  Two thousand years passed since Jews last were able to come to this holy site at will. 

It is said that God is most proximate when praying at this singular place.

 

Prayers for the Ill

 Q: Why do we use the mother’s Hebrew name when saying a prayer for someone ill?

 

A: There are levels of answers to this question.  First, it is assumed that the mother has the greatest concern for the welfare of her children.  Like mother Rachel, she will plead before God for her children.

Also, we have no doubt about the identity of the mother since she gave birth to her offspring and her identity is therefore more assured than that of the father.  

In addition, a mother’s anger is usually temporary.  If the Holy One, blessed be He, is afflicted the ill patient, God’s anger will soon disappear like that of the mother.

Why do Jews cover their heads when they pray?

Q: Why do Jews cover their heads when they pray?

 

A: 

Interestingly, there is no law, halacha, which indicates that one must cover the head.  we find in the medieval work, the Shulchan Aruch, that “it is a custom not to walk outside bareheaded.”  Note the word, “custom.”  In Talmudic times, wearing a head covering was not a universal practice by most rabbis.  Only a very few maintained this custom.

It has been suggested that the wearing of a head covering originated in ancient Rome where it was the sign of a servant to go out with their head covered showing their servility.  Possibly, long after the Roman Empire, the practice of covering the head continued as Jews remembered the idea of being servants…but to God not to any person.

Today the kippah symbolizes devotion and mindfulness to God and is worn in consecrated places or when we pray.  Custom has grown into virtual law as most synagogues would strongly object to not donning a skullcap for a man and in some instances for women.  The kippah is an outward symbol of one’s “Jewishness,” a distinctive trademark.  More often than ever before one sees Jews wearing kippot (yarmulkes in Yiddish) in the street as a sign of pride in their faith

Mourner's Kaddish

Tell me about the Mourner’s Kaddish.  What make it so special?

 

The kaddish, as you know, is not Hebrew, it is Aramaic.  It was put into that language because it was the spoken tongue at the time.  That places it in the post-biblical era.  It was crafted at a time when many Jews no longer fully understood Hebrew despite the fact that they still prayed in that language and despite the fact that Aramaic is a very close relative to Hebrew.

Parts of the prayer are mere renderings of Hebrew into Aramaic.  For example, Yehi Shmay (the refrain after the first paragraph) is a direct translation of Baruch Shem (the line after the Shma).   Originally Baruch Shem, or Yehi Shmay, was the response by the people to hearing the Holy Name of God fully and only pronounced on Yom Kippur.  Hearing the name was so powerful that the people fell on their faces as they shouted this phrase. That is, by the way, why we only say Baruch Shem to this day out loud only on Yom Kippur.  In any event, the Yehi Shmay response is as if we have just beheld the Face of God.  It is a powerful phrase that indicates something far more intimate than most prayers.  It is, by the way, also the line that we state when we use God’s name inappropriately, i.e. when saying the wrong prayer.

There are several kaddishes, as you note.  Some of them are sung and some are recited like the mourner’s kaddish and a few others.  The two kaddishes that are most alike are the kaddish shalem (full Kaddish) and the mourner’s kaddish.  The difference between them is a single line that begins with “titkabel…”.    Titkabel means “receive.” In a state of mourning we do not ask anything of God but accept our prayer.  We do not decry God’s decree, ask that death be reversed or anything else of God when we are mourning.  Our tradition asks us to simply accept the judgment.  That is the essence of the mourner’s kaddish.  

It is probable that the mourner’s kaddish takes its theology from the book of Job.  Job, the man who lost everything, is urged by his companions to atone, consider how he offended God and even repudiate the One that took away all that he loved.  In the end, God speaks to Job stilling his queries by indicating that he will never know the ways of God.  In a rhetorical query, God asks Job, “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundations?”  In other words, humankind can never fathom God’s ways.

The mourner’s kaddish is then an acceptance of God’s will, knowing that we will never comprehend His ways or understand why death has taken someone we love away.

Implicit in Job’s quandary and explicated by the Talmud is the idea that physical life is finite but life itself is not.  We believe in a life that goes beyond death. That is the underpinning of the mourner’s kaddish: it is the ultimate belief that death is not the end, it is an end.  The soul survives.  For this we thank God for both the life that we shared and the one that endures beyond the physical realm.

We recite the kaddish, as opposed to singing it, because we cannot ignore that fact that we are wounded as we publicly proclaim when we utter the words of the mourner’s kaddish that our faith in God remains firm, unshaken.

Most of the other kaddishes are sung because they extol God’s glory and justice.  Yet when a person is in mourning it is hard to sing, it is enough just to say the words.

Aside from these considerations there is also the sacred notion of continuity.  “Just as my father did for his parent, so I will do for him.”  This idea of traditional passing on what one generation has done to the next takes on a power of its own.  The strength that we gain from saying these holy words alongside others who have suffered similarly is also a comfort.  We are never alone in our pain.

Purim

Q:What are some of the different customs associated with the holiday Purim?

A: We all know one of the observances associated with the holiday is that noise must be made every time evil Haman’s name is mentioned. We make a raucous commotion in order to drown out his name and thus his remembrance.

Another custom is the sending of gifts, also called mishloah manot (aka shalach manos). Food and money are given to friends as well as to the poor.  The purpose is so that every Jew will have the opportunity to fully celebrate the holiday.

The reading of the Megillah takes precedence over most all other mitzvoth. Even tzedakah, caring for the sick and davenning are postponed when the Scroll of Esther is being read.

Will have the practice of giving half a coin, today 1/2 dollar, before the evening reading of the Megillah. We do so to recall the half-shekel that was donated by every Jew to the Temple in the month of Adar many centuries ago.

Finally, we enjoy a seudat Purim, meal on the holiday. Foods like hamantaschen and drink is served to enhance the occasion and feel the joy of freedom.

Swift Davenning

Q: Why does congregational prayer often gallop at speeds we cannot keep up with?

A: The great Jewish minds of the past taught us that a person should pray as carefully as if he were counting pearls.

For most people it is difficult to keep the mind from wandering while praying, especially when the service “gallops.”  Our masters teach us to proceed at a slower pace.  It is better to say fewer prayers with higher devotion than more prayers with a mind fixed on getting the service over and done.

Unveilings on Rosh Hodesh

Q: I have heard that some people will not do an unveiling on Rosh Hodesh. Is this true?  And if so, why?

A: Rosh Hodesh, the New Moon, is treated as a minor festival.  We add psalms of Hallel to our prayers.  Eulogies are not usually given and fasting is forbidden.  While not a full-fledged holiday there are historical indications that at one time it may have been a major celebration.

In Jewish tradition sad events yield to communal rejoicing.  Hence, Shabbat superseded shivah, no burials take place on Yom Tov and one may not self-impose a fast on Rosh Hodesh.

Some individual rabbis discourage unveilings on a Rosh Hodesh for these reasons but it is not forbidden by Jewish law, halacha.

Did it Really Happen?

Q: How does one remain Jewish when the “literal” meaning of Scripture is, literally, unbelievable? 

A:  There are many Torah passages that could raise eyebrows well into the nether regions of the forehead. Among them are the age of the universe versus our almost six-thousand year calculation, manna feeding at least 11⁄2 million freed slaves for forty years, burning bushes and parted seas to name a few. 

The question actually runs yet deeper: If the Torah cannot be read at face value, if we cannot trust it to tell the truth all the time, how can we depend on it for truth any time? 

No one who reads Torah with any degree of seriousness will fail to notice these and other incongruities. In fact, it is probably the most frequent question asked of rabbis today. What do I tell people? Even more, how
can anyone, including a rabbi, have faith with such unbelievable tales and inconsistencies? 

I am fond of telling the story of the grandfather who greets his little one at the door. 

“So how was Hebrew School today, Yacov?” 

“Oh, great! We learned about how General Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt. Cornered by the Egyptians with their troops, General Moses fired bazookas and strafed the advancing army while the Israeli navy placed pontoons across the Sea. The people narrowly escaped!” 

“Oy,” said the grandfather. “Is this what they taught you??”
“Grandpa, if I told you what they said, you’d never believe it.”
On a primary level, the Torah is filled with stories. The tales we tell are 

human, full of adventure, achievements, falls, and recoveries. They are great stories that we know well and retell through generations. Think of Adam and Eve. They tell the story of reward and punishment; listening to God and the penalty of disobedience. Think of Noah, the savior of a world. What about Abraham, the one who discovered and was discovered by God? The narrative then follows Abraham through his trials and triumphs. This is storytelling at its finest. These are well-worn tales that have traveled the world many times over, through millennia. 

On a secondary level, each story contains kernels of knowledge and philosophy that we often miss (because we stop in step 1). For example, the depiction of Adam and Eve serves the purpose of telling us we are free. 

God rewards and punishes but the real lesson is about personal control and responsibility. And Noah? It is all about choosing your destiny regardless of what the outside world does and thinks. Consider that Noah’s righteousness was singular in a world gone bad. 

On a tertiary level, we are guided by the Zohar which states, “If the Torah were mere tales I could tell better stories myself.” We learn through metaphor. In Eden, we understand the trappings of Paradise. We are not meant for utopia. Our lives are only validated through struggle. We are Adam and Eve. We choose banishment because there lies our greatest hope. Abraham is the paragon of self-discovery. We must pass through walls of flames, become scarred before we can contemplate wholeness. We must travel far in our youth to eventually find what is most close, so close that it cannot be seen, only felt. 

Is there more? Yes, there is always more. That is why it continues to feed our souls after all this time. 

Tashlich

Q: Why do we go to a small pond or lake on the first day of Rosh Hashanah to offer prayers and throw breadcrumbs?

A: Rosh Hashanah begins the process of forgiveness and reconciliation. From the first day of a holy day until Yom Kippur, we count 10 days as we attempt to come to terms with our sins.  The Maharal, Rabbi Yehudah Leib of Prague, teaches that one way to commence the process of feeling and becoming contrite is found in the book of Micah. Forgiveness will come, says the prophet, “When you cast your sins into the depths of the ocean.” (7:19)

There is a beautiful Midrash which tells of Abraham on his way to fulfilling God’s command to sacrifice Isaac is made to pass through a raging river.  Waters swirling madly about him, Abraham prays to God, “Save me dear Lord me from these waters which threaten my life!” (Psalms 69:2)  The Almighty heard the words of His messenger and saved Abraham from certain death.

The waters in the Midrash symbolize the underworld of darkness and sin.  The waves tug at our legs but, with the help of God, we will survive.  Thus we go to a pond or lake or river with flowing waters each year for Tashlich, where we throw our crumbs into the waters.  We empty our pockets to begin the process of renewal.

Calendars

Q: Why do the Jewish holidays come late, or early, never at the same time?

A: The Jewish year is reckoned by the lunar calendar, not the Gregorian calendar which is observed by the Western world.

The lunar year consists of 354 days as opposed to the Gregorian calendar, which is 365 days. For this reason the Jewish holidays will always fall on the same date in the Jewish, or lunar, cycle but rarely will they coincide with the same secular date.

Pope Gregory the XIII established the Gregorian calendar that we use today.  In 1850 Pope Gregory mandated that a universal calendar be calibrated using the solar year, beginning on January 1.  At that time, several corrections needed to be made before they began using the new calendar.  First, 10 days had to be taken out of the year in order to gauge the correct date.  Understandably, the Pope’s actions caused great deal of frustration and anger by those who felt their lives had been cheated by fortnight.  Much later, when the original American colonies decided to adopt the Gregorian calendar, Benjamin Franklin wrote in his inimitable style and wit, “And what an indulgence is here for those who love to lie down in peace on the second of this month and not perhaps wake till the morning of the 14^th.”

The astronomers of Pope Gregory also saw a glaring problem in the computation of the solar year. The earth needs 365 days to complete its orbit around the sun, five hours, 48 minutes and 46 seconds. In order to compensate for the extra 1/4 day, a leap year was added every four years to correct the imbalance.  

The Jewish calendar, on the other hand, is dependent upon the appearance of the moon, hence the use of the term lunar calendar.  However, in order to remain within the framework of the seasonal year a leap year was added seven times every 19 years. Our leap year, unlike the Gregorian leap year that adds one day, consists of a full month.  All told, the solar and lunar calendars rarely agree on the same date.

On Marriage

Q: Is it obligatory for a bride to wear a veil?

A:  The custom of wearing the veil dates back to the Torah where Rebekah wore a veil when she saw her future husband, Isaac, for the first time. Throughout the ages the tradition of donning a veil has become virtually cemented in Jewish ritual practice.

Another fascinating episode featured in the Torah was when the bride and a groom did not see each other.  Married in darkness they wed the wrong person!  Jacob married Leah instead of Rachel.  It is for this reason that the veil is always lifted before the wedding takes place.

Q: My mother recently remarried.  Her new husband was married before too bit never bothered to obtain a Get (Jewish divorce).  I want him to stand with me under the Huppah at my wedding.   Is this acceptable?

A:  There are very few rules governing who could stand at the Huppah. Obviously, your stepfather made a mistake when he did not receive the Get. He is not legally divorced from his first marriage or for that matter; he is not married the second time in the eyes of Jewish Law. Nonetheless, even though he erred in not getting the Get this would not impede from standing with you at your marriage.

Q: A friend of mine is an artist and wants to design the ketuba -- Jewish marriage document -- which we would love. Would it be valid?

A:  There is no objection to your friend designing and writing the Ketubah. In fact, until very recent times, all Ketubahs were hand written and beautifully ornamented. There are many striking examples of illuminated Ketbot which are priceless heirlooms and valuable collectors items.

Of course, your friend should consult her Rabbi to make sure she has the correct wording and phraseology used in this document.

Many local artists and ones you can find online have created beautiful works of art which are readily available everywhere.

A Cantor

Q: What are the origins of a cantor?

A:  The Hebrew word for cantor is hazzan, which is taken from the Aramaic, meaning officer. Originally the hazzan had charge of the premises. Every Shabbat he gave the signal for the community to cease its working when the appropriate time came. He brought the Torah into public places for reading and sometimes led the prayers.

Time, as he was most familiar with the liturgy and music and prayers of the community to go for the sole function of leading services.

The correct term for a leader of prayers is shaliah tzibbur, or emissary of the congregation.  The ancient religious Codes state that person must be experienced, have a pleasant voice, and be agreeable and modest along with learned.

In Ashkenazic custom, the hazzan is a prayer leader.   He chants the first and last words of each section, thus regulating the speed of the service.  In Sephardic liturgy, the hazzan recites almost every word of the entire service alone.  This latter custom arose when prayer books were not usually available.

Shmini Atzeret

Q: Why do we recite the prayer for rain on the last day of Sukkot?

A:  The last service is actually called by different name, Shmini Atzeret, when we include a special prayer for rain. The following words are inserted into the daily until Passover, “Who causes the wind to blow and the rain to fall.”

Rain is vital to our survival. Without it we die. The Talmud states that Shmini Atzeret is the world’s Yom Kippur.  Just on the Day of Atonement, God declares “who will live and will die,” so too a declaration is made regarding the world on this day. If a positive judgment is decreed we will have rain, life. If not, the world will with.er and die.

Shmini Atzeret is an agricultural holiday. It is called the Eighth day of Assembly in English. Interestingly, it falls around the autumnal equinox. A change happens then. Rain does, with God’s blessing, begin to fall and the earth is renewed and continues

Hanukkah

Q: Is it true that Hanukkah is a minor holiday??

A:  Truth be told, Hanukkah is a minor holiday and not in the category of festival. In Judaism, a festival, Hebrew chag, is reserved for the three festivals Sukkoth, Pesach and Shavuot. Only on those three occasions to be greet each other with the words Chag Sameach, a happy Jewish holiday. During Hanukkah you simply say Hanukkah Sameach for the word chag does not apply.

On the festivals we do not put on tefillin and we abstain from work. There are no such prohibitions. Observances for this holiday are few, we light candles for eight days, we enjoy fried potato pancakes (latkes) and donuts and add a special paragraph to the daily prayers, the Amidah.

Many modern families have adopted the custom giving gelt or presents to the children. The practice of gift giving is undoubtedly compensation for the children missing out on what their Christian friends are getting.  Of course, the act of giving presents serves to enhance the holiday and add further feeling of joy the season.

The creation of the state of Israel has added a new dimension to the holiday. The heroic deeds of the Maccabees are an inspiration to the pioneers and defenders of the Jewish state. For Israelis, the kindling of the flames as it did reminder of the downloadable spirit of the Jewish people.  Its flames call attention to the light which will never be extinguished.

Kanne-hora

Q: What does Kanne-horaliterally mean?

A: Kanne-hora comes from the Hebrew phrase, kayn ayin ha-ra, which means, “Here is the evil eye.”  Of course, we mean just the opposite when we say this word. The effect of uttering the word Kanne-hora was to offset any damage done to it object or person by our praise. It is as if one were to say, “My son makes $200,000,” would invoke ill fortune. Then the person who boasted of that would follow with “kanne-hora” to avoid brining misfortune.  Kanne-hora would sometimes be accompanied by three spits over the shoulder to further dispel negative consequences.

Ner Tamid

Q: What is the meaning and origin of the Eternal Light above the Ark in the Sanctuary?

A: The Talmud calls the synagogue a “mikdash m’at,” a replacement for the Temple which once stood in Jerusalem.  There, a menorah burned continually.  A menorah, by the way, is not the same as a Hanukkiyah. While the menorah consists of seven level branches, a Hanukkiyah used exclusively for the holiday of Hanukkah, has eight, plus a shamash.

The Eternal Lamp or Ner Tamid, is first mentioned as a fixture in the desert Tabernacle.  There it was continually alight with oil replenished into its receptacles regularly to make sure it never went out.  This was and remains a reminder of God’s ever-watchful eye over the people of Israel.  It, like God’s Presence never is extinguished.

Pig!

Q:Why is the pig always singled out as “the” non-kosher animal when there are literally tens of thousand of other animals that are unkosher?

A: Why indeed has the pig been singled out for such opprobrium? After all, any animal that creeps on the ground, does not have cloven hoofs and does not chew its cud is considered triefand not fit for consumption by a Jew. The beasts that fit this category number quite a few. The rabbit, eagle, culture, snail, worm, hippopotamus, dog, etc. all share the same distinction by being forbidden. They are equally repugnant in the eyes of the law.  

Perhaps it is infinitely easier to concentrate on the simple ill looking beast. Thus, we pick on the porker. That also probably why we refer to a person who gorgeous himself on food as a “chazer” (Yiddish for our squat nosed friend).  It is also why we allude to any one who’s appearances as unkempt as “looking like a pig.” How many children have been reprimanded by the parents with, “This room looks like a pigsty”? Those who do anything to excess are said to be “going whole hog.” We don’t say they’re going whole cheetah?  This is further evidence of our biased view of this lonely critter.

The reason why Jews focus on the pig as being the paradigm of a non-kosher animal is because from the outside it looks kosher, that is, it has a cloven hoof.  What is not visible from the outside is that it does not chew the cud. So, the pig looks kosher but it is a deception.

Elijah and His Cup

Q:  What is the meaning of Elijah’s cup at the Passover Seder?

A:  Elijah was a prophet whose life is chronicled in the books of the Bible. Against a dark background, Elijah ventures for us to battle against evil.  This prophet stands apart from the rest by dint of his great personal power and connection to God. Fearlessly, Elijah denounces wickedness and promises retribution against the perpetrators of evil.

Legend has it that Elijah did not die but was taken in a fiery chariot up to the Celestial Chambers of the Holy One.  Signaling the coming deliverance of the Jewish people, Elijah will again appear on earth as the precursor to the Messiah.  Elijah’s bold life actions and apocalyptic associations mark him as larger than life.

On Passover, as we retell and ancient tale of our bondage we anticipate the time when we will never be persecuted or hated again.  The fifth cup of wine is our symbol of our desire to usher in the messianic era. We open doors just prior to the end of the seder in every Jewish household throughout the world, as if to hasten the day when Elijah, harbinger of peace, will come.

Life After Death

Q: What does Judaism say about heaven and hell?

A: Judaism assumes believe in an afterlife. In each Amidah in every service there are no less than five references to the resurrection of the dead. Furthermore, the words, Olam HaBa, the “World to Come” are not strangers to the vocabulary of the most Jews. Olam Haba refers to the immortality of the soul.  We have a definite doctrine of something that lies beyond the mortal’s existence.

Surprisingly however, there is a dearth of material describing what the afterlife looks like. Unlike Christianity, Judaism has never depicted the afterlife in vivid terms. Our faith seeks to deemphasize the idea of using heaven and hell as a carrot as a spur for good behavior.   A heaven replete with floating angels carrying harps and hell with burning embers are unknown to our faith.

Heavenly rewards are gained in a lifetime. Similarly, pain and anguish form a part of our life long travail. A rabbinic parable aptly expresses this idea:  A visitor approached paradise and found a group of old man hunched over ancient texts, immersed in study. Anxiously, he asked his guide what they were doing in heaven. The guide answered, “You have the mistaken idea that the men are in heaven. In truth, Heaven is in the men.  People create their own heaven or hell here.

Judaism is a this-worldly-religion. As Rabbi Yaacov, a second century teacher stated, “Better is one hour of repentance and good deeds in this world in the whole life in the World to Come.” Yet, should we forget that the doctrine of resurrection exists, Rabbi Yaacov continued, Better is one hour of bliss of spirit in the World to Come, than the whole of this world.”

Purim's Mitzvot

Q: Tell me about some of the observances, mitzvot, of Purim.

A: The book of Esther describes the celebration of Purim as days of feasting and gladness and of sending portions one to another and giving to the poor. (9:22)

There are two separate mitzvot alluded to here. The first is to observe Purim in joy. Accordingly, we set the table for a feast replete with hamantaschen and delicacies.  We rejoice with both food and drink.

Of course, no celebration is complete without others. Thus, we send gifts to people. The portions usually consist of consumables that are to be enjoyed during the holiday.

Part of the mitzvah of sending gifts to our friends and relatives consists of giving charity to the poor. They too must be cared for during the holiday.  We give both my money as well as food portions to the less fortunate.

The Zohar incisively observes, “If the poor have a share your rejoicing, it may be called My festival; otherwise it will be your festival but not Mine.”