New Article: Passover - Sex is Everybody's Business
Passover - Sex is Everybody's Business
By Rabbi Daniel Lapin
The five books of Moses are divided up into fifty-four portions. Every Sabbath a different portion is read so that, taking into account leap years and various other considerations of the calendar, the entire Torah is completed every year. We are currently in the beginning of the book of Exodus, the portions dealing with the Children of Israel leaving Egypt and the holiday of Passover. This portion teaches us valuable lessons about family and society.
For centuries America has recognized that sex is everybody’s business. The community does care about what people do in the privacy of their bedrooms. First Roman law, then English law, and finally American law prohibited polygamy, incest, and, until recently, adultery. These cultures all drew heavily on the Torah which was the first inkling mankind received that regulation of these seemingly private matters helped preserve society. These laws reflected our conviction that we all have a say in what two of our fellow citizens might be doing in the privacy of their bedroom. Even today, on some deep level, we still suspect that sex is everybody’s business. That may be why most of us notify our friends of our intention to mate by announcing our engagements well in advance of the wedding night.
Yet during the past four decades or so, we have uncritically embraced the revolutionary idea that sex is nobody else’s business. Fortunately, the holiday of Passover reminds us that sex is indeed everybody’s business. Read More...
Spend Pesach 2008 with Rabbi Daniel Lapin and Michael Medved
11 Days/10 night
Friday, April 18th - Monday, April 28th
With great pride, Efrem Harkham and the Luxe Hotel Sunset Boulevard in Bel-Air invite you to celebrate Passover 2008 in a magnificent setting where the best of all worlds join together.
Completely relax at our seven-acre hillside urban retreat and get the added benefiit of sophisticated, metropolitan Los Angeles. Marvel at our gourmet California fresh cuisine and savor traditional Passover foods. Surround yourself with warm, intimate, cozy accommodations while reveling in our cutting edge interior design. Your soul will embrace the millennia-old Pesach liturgy in our services even as your mind is stimulated by our intellectually accomplished speakers.
Come join us for a wonderful, intimate Pesach experience as we are led by Rabbi Daniel Lapin. Feel inspired as Rabbi Lapin takes you through both Sedarim, spiritually uplifted as he directs our services, and stimulated as he delivers lectures throughout the Chag, the breadth of which will amaze you.
Named one of Newsweek's 50 Most Influential Rabbis, Rabbi Lapin speaks to diverse audiences throught out the country, is a best-selling author, hosts a weekly radio show out of San Francisco (KSFO) and is admired by journalists, politicians, educators and religious leaders alike.
To supplement your religious experience, you will get to choose from being entertained by Brad Schachter, our in-house Musical Accompanist, to laughing out loud during our Comedy Night to seeing yourself or others mesmerized by our guest Hypnotist to wagering the house at our Casino Night. Perhaps a Caribbean Bar-B-Que with Steel Band will entice you or a Wine Tasting while sampling Chef Olivier's International Hors D'Oeuvres. Relish animated conversation after one of the lectures given by our Scholars-in-Residence or keep pace with the world as you participate in our Daf Yomi Shiur.
OR DO IT ALL!!
Your children will be as entertained as you are as we offer them Jewish Rap Musical Nights, Jeopardy Games, Karaoke Nights, Basketball Tournaments and so very much more.
Lapinette #4 Engaged
I have been having nightmares about whether I am psychically strong enough to start behaving maturely when a daughter gets engaged. (Let alone married!!) There should be a gym to go to for this. That way I’d swim and work out early in the morning and then drop in to join the crowd of anxious fathers-of-the-bride undergoing emotional maturity training. Oh well, perhaps it’s just as well that I am unaware of such a program.
You see, I am blessed with a wife who sculpted a work of art in our close family and she especially engineered warm relationships between me and my daughters. I cherished every single moment of their childhood and the cry “Daddy, come here, I need you” was like music in my ears. (It still is but sadly, I am less able to solve today’s problems.) So naturally, the arrival of a new man in a daughter’s life is a bit traumatic for me. Okay, a lot traumatic!
Look, let me be frank about this. People will say, “Hey, calm down, you’re not losing a daughter, you’re gaining a son.” Yeh, right! The basic Biblical truth about it is simply this: Some ungainly youth you’d never heard of 12 months ago is ripping your daughter from the bosom of your family. That is all there is to it and there’s no point in you trying to talk me out of it.
Think of it: Rebecca left her father, Bethuel’s house, to marry Isaac. Do you ever see a Biblical verse describing Rebecca going back home to the Bethuel ranch for Thanksgiving? Rachel left her father, Laban’s house, to marry Jacob. Did she ever bring her husband and kids back to visit Mr. and Mrs. Laban?
For heaven’s sake, if you still doubt my rationality, ask yourself, who takes whose name? My daughters meet this youth who bought his first razor last week, and all of a sudden, they’re trying out his last name to see how it sounds with their first name. “Goodbye Lapin.” That’s what they’re thinking. “That venerable old name served me well enough for the first 19 or 20 years of my life, but now, goodbye. I’m getting my own last name.”
It is NOT your own last name, dear daughter. It is the last name of some guy we’ve only just met.
Anyway, I tell you all that only in order to tell you this. Lapinette #4, Ruthie, has just become engaged to be married. (see how calm I sound.)
Ruthie just agreed to marry Asher Abraham in New York where they both live and work. His folks emigrated to Israel many years ago but he came back to the United States when he was but a 17 year-old, and made his own way. Susan and I have met him and spent time with him during each of the occasions that work has taken us to the east coast over the past 6 months or so and we have come to trust him. Does that sound like a strange way for a girl’s father to put it?
What do you want me to say? I love him? That would be absurd. I barely know him. But if I’m right about the trust, the love will come. Trust me.
In a way important to Susan and me, Asher has quickly taken to Ruthie’s siblings and, they, outstanding judges of manhood that they are, have taken to him. He has been kind to them and considerate to the whole family. He really does seem to be what we call a “mensch.” That is the Jewish word for someone who is ethical, decent, and admirable. Sort of like the way Rudyard Kipling, wrote in his marvelous poem “If” – “you'll be a Man my son!” A mensch is someone you could grow to love.
We are blessed with two other amazing sons-in-law. They are mensches too. What is more, they were smart and mature enough to see beyond my emotional immaturity and reckon maybe I’d one day turn into a worthy father-in-law. Asher is a fitting inductee to this club of noblemen.
Note to future Lapinette suitors: Things will go more quickly for you if you make certain to read our books and listen to our Genesis Journeys CD series earlier in the relationship rather than later. However we hold no grudges.
You know how there is a website for every interest these days, right? Well, religious Jews have one for announcing a happy event, known in Hebrew as a ‘simcha’. If you’re having a really slow day, here is the link to Ruthie’s announcement placed by sister Miriam. Among the pictures is one on the rowing boat in Central Park where he proposed to her.
Note to future Lapinette suitors: A boat is the RIGHT place to propose to a Lapin girl.
They are getting married in early February in New York which gives me a good few weeks to work on my emotional maturity. I must learn to be gracious at my daughters’ weddings. I must learn to be gracious at my daughters’ weddings. Oh forget it! I’m going to the gym.
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I love these poignant lines from Longfellow—so applicable to my family—
And the ancient Arrow-maker
Turned again unto his labor,
Sat down by his sunny doorway,
Murmuring to himself, and saying:
"Thus it is our daughters leave us,
Those we love, and those who love us!
Just when they have learned to help us,
When we are old and lean upon them,
Comes a youth with flaunting feathers,
With his flute of reeds, a stranger
Wanders piping through the village,
Beckons to the fairest maiden,
And she follows where he leads her,
Leaving all things for the stranger!"
Recent Developments
These past few months have been a very exciting and busy time for us. In June I appeared on the Joni Show on the Daystar Network, and just a few weeks ago I was on the 700 Club with Pat Robertson. You can view these shows here.
I also spoke at the Family Research Council: The Washington Briefing on October 19th, and the following Friday addressed The City Church of Kirkland, WA's incredibly inspiring Prosperity With A Purpose conference
My wife, Susan, and I have been hard at work lately producing the third in the Genesis Journeys series: Clash of Destiny - Decoding the Secrets of Israel and Islam. This will be a two hour teaching on two audio CDs, along with a 16 page color study guide. It will be available by the end of November, 2007.
Another exciting development was having our son, Ari, a recent physics graduate of Yeshiva University, join us in our work. It is wonderful having him around again, and rewarding to see our son assist us in disseminating the very values with which he was raised.
"Man of God?" No, I don't think so, thank you.
“Everyone needs a rabbi!” is the self-serving slogan with which I open my favorite three hours of the week every Sunday afternoon on KSFO. It still delights me how callers of every persuasion announce to me ‘You’re my rabbi.” Do they know that a rabbi doesn’t necessarily mean someone serving a congregation? He is someone with a little familiarity of Scripture and sources of ancient Jewish wisdom, that’s all. Some rabbis serve conventional congregations as I did for fifteen years in Southern California while others work at all kinds of occupations; some are even lucky enough to work as radio talk show hosts.
Let me tell you this: I am not a “man of God.” Tell you the truth, I don’t even know what that term means. I am a child of God…just as you are. When people say “man of God” I suspect they usually mean some sort of other-worldly guy who spends all his time contemplating heavenly questions. Perhaps eating only bread and water, and those only when absolutely necessary. Boy, that is so not me. I like my steaks, cigars, and chocolate milk-shakes. And that only covers my tummy appetites.
I believe that the good Lord created us to live somewhere between the two extremes of grabbing absolutely everything our bodies yearn for and utterly rejecting those delightful pleasures. It is harder to live between two extremes. That is why many people use the term ‘extremist’ as an insult. I think they are on to something. It is just plain easier to be an extremist than to be a middle-ist.
Let me give you an example: For folks with a bit of an alcohol problem, it is far easier to avoid alcohol entirely. That occasional glass of wine with dinner could spell doom. It is actually easier to have no alcohol at all than to confine oneself to just an occasional sip. Needless to say, it is also easier to become a wino. Keeping to that middle ground of enjoying the pleasures of life but neither being overwhelmed by them nor rejecting them altogether is the trick.
The point is that God created us as body and soul. Not only body, as many hedonists mistakenly suppose. And also not only as soul as believed by folks who reject the world in a gesture of mistaken piety. The challenge of being a child of God is not to move to either extreme. Too much body and we fall off the cliff of self-destruction. Too much soul, and we lose touch with the reality of who we are and what we are meant to become. See you Sunday afternoon!
There are several ways in which people communicate with me. Some call in to my radio show on Sundays (415) 808-5600 at KSFO San Francisco, while others email me from either www.rabbidaniellapin.com or from www.towardtradition.org Either way, I do get the email, read it all, and respond to about 25% even if the response is very brief. Below is an example of a letter that arrived today which I answered. Between working on the newest volume of Genesis Journeys (Call Him Ishmael:Decoding the Secrets of Islam's War on the West) and my other writing, there is limited time particularly since I greatly enjoy whatever time with my family I can have. The second volume of Genesis Journeys, The Gathering Storm-Decoding the Secrets of Noah will be available on the website very soon...probably within a couple of weeks. Anyway, back to this question I was just asked below....interesting that just this morning, the New York Times (why I read it is the subject of another story) published a front page story about couples who sleep in separate bedrooms! Very interesting. The point is that the couples who do have separate sleeping quarters are, on some level, uncomfortable about it. I am not saying there is anything terrible with the idea as I'd say about shall we say, a bi-coastal marriage or a marriage in which the partners live in different cities and see one another every weekend or every second weekend. That would be a real question mark for me. However, this story describes a way couples adapt to some of the stresses of modern life particularly with two spouses working out of the home. Still, most couples doing this, feel the need to explain it. My point is that deep down, we all know that marriage means being together. It is not merely a socio economic classification. I have to go now, my wife is calling....
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Dear John,
An honor to hear from you. No, that is not a correct translation. One of the next volumes in my audio series Genesis Journeys (www.rabbidaniellapin.com) is entitled Madam I'm Adam--Decoding the Secrets of Eden in which I explain in detail. Suffice for now to say that the Hebrew means not rib or penis but 'side'...God took the female side of Adam and formed it into a separate being, Eve. He originally made them united in order to teach the lesson forever that marriage is like no other relationship.....my sister is my sister even if she lives on another continent...my mother and father are my parents no matter how much geography divides us, but my wife and I must be close in proximity. More later...
Sincerely
Rabbi Daniel Lapin
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Dear Rabbi Lapin
I was listening to Native America Calling recently. A woman on the program stated that a Rabbi said to her that in Genesis where "G_d" took a rib from Adam was a wrong translation.
She said the Rabbi told her it was from his penis that Eve came.
Please tell me if that is a true translation.
John
For the children? Or not?
I have just returned home after sharing in one of the greatest blessings that life provides – celebrating the birth of our newest grandson. With much gratitude to God, we rejoiced at the arrival of a healthy baby into the loving arms of our daughter and her husband.
The pregnancy nausea (nine months worth), the discomfort of labor (well, actually, the outright, incredible pain of labor) were in the past and an unusually peaceful and adorable baby was available for cherishing and protecting. There was, in fact, only one proverbial fly in the ointment.
Almost directly after birth, instead of cuddling in his mother’s arms, the baby needed to face a medical procedure designed to extract blood from his heel as part of the standard, mandated PKU testing, designed to reveal whether the baby is lacking in a necessary enzyme. If that deficiency shows up, carefully monitoring the diet of both the nursing mother and the child can prevent major problems.
Now, as the daughter of a polio survivor, and as someone who is RH incompatible with her husband, I tend to be grateful for immunizations and tests that are available today. However, after asking a few questions, it turns out that the PKU test done in the hospital is in fact given too soon in the baby’s life to give very accurate results. It needs to be repeated a short time later. So why is it done?
Here, in my opinion, is the inexcusable answer. Testing is mandated in the hospital because some parents don’t take their infants in for the scheduled check-ups. In other words, my grandson needs to have his first few hours in the world become, even for a short time, a period of pain surrounded by strangers, because other newborns' parents can't be trusted.
Isn’t this a little young to teach a new citizen the lesson that when society legislates its rules on the assumption that people are too stupid, too poor, too uneducated, too irresponsible, etc, etc., to take care of themselves, it ends up punishing those who work on themselves to become wise, wealthy, educated and responsible – and their families? That taking care of people as if they were animals who need a farmer to manage them doesn’t end up making everyone better off, but actually makes the lives of most people worse?
I know that’s the reality of life in America today for adults – but as a grandma, it sure hurts when it reaches straight into the life of my newest treasure.
Not the Charlotte's Web I Recall by Susan Lapin
Charlotte’s Web, Jan 23
What do you think of when you remember Charlotte’s Web? Maybe pigs and spiders, or perhaps you are surrounded by memories of cuddling under a blanket and reading, possibly the first stirrings of recognition that there was a relationship between the food on your plate and animals. (As a Jew who kept kosher, the book might have been an easier read for me) Whatever your memories are, they probably didn’t include high school students having affairs with their teachers or participating in a host of other immoral and un-childlike behaviors.
Which is why it was incredibly disturbing to me when I approached a copy of Charlotte’s Web prominently displayed in a bookstore on a shelf advertising “Recommended Reading for Children”, and found that the book featured next to it included the above depravities.
What is the manager of that bookstore thinking? And how sad is it that parents can’t allow their children the liberating pleasure of freely browsing through the children’s section of a bookstore or the library without having to worry about what they will find. With all the (necessary) warnings about children being accidentally exposed to pornography and other evils on the web, how about a little concern for what they will find in what we think of as safe locations?
Using judgment and taking the responsibility for what children see should be an obligation every children’s librarian and bookstore owner accepts. The fact that the government shouldn’t censor reading material is unrelated to whether adults in positions of trust should. In the years that passed between when my eldest and youngest daughters each became voracious readers and devoted bookshelf browsers I saw a scary change in the offerings on those shelves. I’m not talking age appropriate realism – I’m talking age inappropriate depictions and the presentation of deviation as the norm. What a sad reality it is when any caring parent today has to know that the sheltered harbors of their childhood, the libraries and bookstores, are no longer protected environments
Peter Singer’s Upside Down World by Susan Lapin
“March Hare: …Then you should say what you mean.
Alice: I do; at least - at least I mean what I say -- that's the same thing, you know.”
I wonder if Professor Peter Singer recently read Alice in Wonderland and decided to base his philosophies on the combined wisdom of the March Hare, Mad Hatter and Doormouse. If not, it’s rather difficult to understand his piece in December 17th’s New York Times Magazine. I disagreed with his premises and conclusions from start to finish, but more intriguing to me was his avoidance of the fact that he disagrees with himself as well.
Prof. Singer, professor of bioethics at the Center for Human Values at Princeton University states, “…most of us would agree that the value of a human life would be in the millions.” Excuse me? This from a man who has previously advocated that handicapped newborns should be killed and that the same should be true for the elderly who are no longer contributing members of society?
All of a sudden he’s filled with the milk of human kindness and charity to all. Not with his own money, mind you. Instead, he suggests that others – like Warren Buffett and Bill and Melinda Gates – are obligated to end world poverty using their own funds.
The entire piece is a sanctimonious, self-righteous paean. This in the end might indeed bring it into line with the professor’s previous declarations. Because, in the past, while he was proposing that ethics necessitated shortening the lives of the elderly, he excluded his own mother from his conclusions. Now, as before, Prof. Singer has written a piece that demands no changes in his own life while making the case for overturning the lives of others. And if that is the basis for his philosophy of life, then he is indeed consistent.
Everyone Struggles with Resolutions Especially me!
Making and Breaking Those Pesky New Year’s Resolutions
Most Americans make New Year resolutions during December and then break them by February. Ancient Jewish wisdom offers some insights into why we make them, why we break them, and looks at some ways to imbue these resolutions with more durability.
Why do we resolve to improve ourselves annually as New Year approaches? This is mostly because, unlike animals, we humans are tormented by deep subconscious anguish at the gap between what we are and what we could be. This deep self-awareness resides in the soul and is one of the best indicators of the soul’s existence.
We all know we could become better people. Better spouses, better parents, better siblings, better employees or employers, or better friends. We know we could be thinner and healthier. We know we could be more prosperous as well as more generous.
What is more, we all know exactly how to achieve these longed-for goals. We know that to be better spouses we need to be more thoughtful, giving, predictable, and cheerful. We know that in order to become better parents, we need to be more patient and consistent. Becoming a better friend, a better employee or better sibling isn’t hard. A little thought will reveal exactly what we need to do. We know that in order to be thinner and healthier we need to eat and exercise wisely.
None of these areas of self improvement for which we yearn involves inscrutable mystery. We know what to do in order to achieve the ends we desire, so why don’t we just do it?
One source of ancient Jewish wisdom is a volume entitled Ethics of The Fathers. Its fourth chapter opens by asking this question, “Who really is mighty?” The question is being asked in order to identify the Biblically correct answer to that question which turns out to be, “He who has mastered the ability to control himself.”
Military tradition has long understood that long before you can hope to control others, you have to have the ability to control yourself. Ethics of The Fathers teaches that true strength isn’t forcing our will onto others as much as it is conquering our own weaknesses.
The great English poet, John Milton, expressed this idea beautifully when he wrote about Oliver Cromwell.
“He first acquired the government of himself, and over himself acquired the most signal victories, so that on the first day he took the field against the external enemy, he was a veteran in arms…”
John Milton was actually very well versed in ancient Jewish wisdom and was certainly influenced by Ethics of The Fathers.
It is thus clear that with a bit more self-discipline, we could do what we know we ought to do. That leaves the question of how to acquire more self-discipline? I would say by treating the quest as a war, and, as in all wars, one must know one’s enemy. Who is your enemy? Who thwarts your ambitions and obstructs the path to your dreams more than anyone else? Yes, that’s right—you!
You are your own worst enemy. But at the same time you are also your own strongest ally. As strange as this may seem, in order to truly benefit from ancient Jewish wisdom, you need to start seeing yourself as two people. One of you is all wise, all rational and always dedicated to the long term good. That’s your soul. The other one of you tries to talk you into short term delights. That is your body. Think of yourself as Pinocchio and Jiminy Cricket wrapped up in one human body. The only question is who is going to lead?
Learning to see yourself in this split fashion is the giant key to self discipline, the avenue to knowing how to lead yourself. Knowledgeable Jewish parents instill this concept of self into their young children and thus contribute to their success later in life.
One part of you is encouraging you to do what you know you ought to be doing. At exactly the same moment, the second part of your makeup is feverishly trying to persuade you to do what you really feel like doing. What a simple and true explanation for the turmoil that we all feel when confronted with certain choices. By understanding this crucial insight and, more importantly, putting it to use, not only can you expect to dramatically increase your self control, you can also confidently anticipate saving yourself thousands of dollars in therapy fees.
Thus we see that the annual exercise of New Year’s resolutions is really an acknowledgement of our souls yearning to soar to self improvement. And we see that our regular shattering of those resolutions is nothing but the triumph of the body over the soul. Sort of like our inner Pinocchio beating up our Jiminy Cricket. It is following our hearts instead of our heads, our bodies instead of our souls.
All of which provides clues to why we make resolutions and why we break them, but is there anything we can do to make them a bit more long-lasting? As usual, Abraham, the father of monotheism, offers some advice. The fourteenth chapter of Genesis describes a war in which Abraham defeated the enemies of the king of Sodom and liberated their captives. The malevolent monarch offered Abraham all the spoils of the war provided he could reclaim his subjects. Not wanting to give the Sodomite sovereign the opportunity of boasting how he had enriched him, Abraham demurred.
However, he didn’t just say “No thanks.” Instead he goes through an elaborate ritual of lifting his hand toward heaven and vowing that he’d take nothing. In other words, he knew how difficult it would be to resist the temptation of instant wealth so he invoked the assistance of an ally—God. Abraham knew that he couldn’t be sure that he would never let himself down, but he felt reasonably confident that he’d not let God down. That is why he brought God in on his resolution, which of course is exactly what converted his resolution into a vow.
The soul’s constant struggle for dominance over the body is nearly always doomed without an ally. Even another human being can be an enormous help. In other words, telling a close friend of your resolution can help you keep it. Each of us prefers to retain the regard of our friends and knowing that our friend is watching our resolve can help greatly.
Following Abraham’s lead and involving God in our resolutions makes for even a higher probability of durability. If it is just me, I can always rationalize interrupting my diet regimen with a quick midnight trip to the refrigerator. If doing so will disappoint my friend in whom I confided my determination to lose weight, I am strengthened in my ability to ignore the summons of my stomach enzymes as they try to tug me to that refrigerator. If, in addition to confiding in my friend, I have promised God during my prayers that I would honor my body by losing weight, that midnight food foraging expedition becomes unthinkable.
The mistake that most of us make each December is thinking that our New Year resolutions must be kept private. Not one of us can make it through life’s journey without the support of other human beings and it is sheer folly to try and win the war against oneself without that support.
Environmental Fundamentalism is a Religion
With little attention, Television Week and Variety, the Hollywood trade magazine, recently announced something that simply fascinates me here: Sundance Channel, which is a joint venture of actor Robert Redford, NBC Universal, and Viacom’s Showtime Networks will soon launch Sundance Channel Green, a weekly show on environmental topics. I wasn’t shocked to read that Sundance Channel claims to be the first network with regular programming dedicated entirely to the environment. And, in my view, “dedicated” is exactly the right word because it sounds religious. And religious is exactly what we’re talking about here.
You see, it is my firm conviction that much of the environmental project is almost an inevitable pantheistic response to a post-Christian culture. Created as we are with a deep instinctive psychological drive to give of ourselves, I see western elites happily preaching self-deprivation as modern secularism’s expression of the animal sacrifices of Biblical times. Turn down the thermostat; ditch your SUV in favor of a silly little electric car that resembles a flashlight on wheels; hobble American industry by means of vague ‘international’ protocols and all the other many examples are really little more than chest-beating displays of moral virtue. Of course every ostentatious exhibition of virtue requires sacrifice in order to resonate with authenticity.
All of this environmental hysteria has another enormous advantage from the point of view of its high priests—it requires action from other than the individual. By contrast, Judeo-Christian traditions require devotion and dedication from the individual but Environmental Fundamentalism demands action from government, or better yet, a federation of governments, say, the United Nations. With the possible exception of the sacred sacrament of secularism—recycling—environmentalism demands little of the individual, which makes it a rather comfortable and seductive faith. Whereas devotees of the Biblical faiths see redemption from the big ‘G’ of God, Environmental Fundamentalism sees redemption coming from the little ‘g’ of government. It interests me that, knowing this full well, Environmental Fundamentalism has recently recognized the compelling need to locate some figureheads with conventional religious credentials to come aboard.
Each morning I give thanks to God for His gift of Scripture and his requirement that I serve Him and sacrifice in accordance with His wishes only. This saves me from feeling a lot of unnecessary guilt and making a whole lot of sacrifices of dubious utility.
Northwest Storm by Susan Lapin
I am trying to count my blessings. We’re all in good health; we have warm clothing to wear, a gas stove which lets us have hot food, and a house that wasn’t damaged. The temperature hasn’t dipped too low and we have friends with whom we’ve been sharing food and companionship.
But while I’m aware of all those things, I am also beginning to feel tired of being cold, of having to find a Starbucks or Tullys in order to work, and simply of life being disrupted from its normal flow. Instead of breakfast taking the one minute and twenty-eight seconds to prepare as it usually does in the microwave – during which time I bring in the Wall Street Journal and start unloading the dishwasher – I’ve been spending half an hour cooking grilled cheese sandwiches and omelets on the stove. (The fact that we can still use our eggs and cheese gives you some idea of the temperature in the house) Reading for a few minutes before falling asleep has turned into a chore with trying to balance a flashlight and turn pages without taking my hand out from beneath the blanket. Getting dressed in the morning has become less a matter of dressing to suit a mood and the day’s activities, and more of trying to figure out how many shirts and sweaters will fit under my coat. And not being able to do laundry has less the feel of a vacation and more of a punishment. While I’m grateful for my friend Julie’s invitation to shower at her (powered) apartment, and I took her up on her offer, it meant that taking a shower became an afternoon’s activity.
I’m ready for a return to normal after our storm. And vividly aware of how fortunate we are to live in a time and place where the normal condition of life is safe and warm, and where even when a relatively major disruption takes place, as it did for us last Thursday, our community is filled with honest, caring people who band together to make an unpleasant situation less so.
Treeless in Seattle
Jews Strive to Restore Sea-Tac Airport’s Christmas Trees
By Rabbi Daniel Lapin
Well here we go again. It is so utterly predictable. Like clockwork. It’s December and time for another skirmish in the annual battle against Christmas. What compels me to comment is that this time it's not the usual secular fanatic who's responsible for doing things that evict Christianity from the culture. No, on this sad and alarming occasion it's a deeply religious, well-intentioned rabbi who has unwittingly stumbled into a situation that will place his denomination (and mine)—Orthodox Judaism—in a terrible, negative light.
For at least ten years, Sea-Tac Airport near Seattle has displayed several large, beautifully decorated Christmas trees each December. With lawyer in tow, a local rabbi recently threatened to sue the Port of Seattle if the airport didn't add a Chanukah menorah to the holiday display.
Yielding to the ultimatum was not an option for airport management, skittish at the best of times since 9-11. Understandably, they interpreted the rabbi’s threat as only the first. It would not be hard to imagine Seattle’s Islamic community stepping forward with their own lawyer to demand a Moslem symbol be included as well.
With deft turn of phrase, Sea-Tac public affairs manager Terri-Ann Betancourt explained that at the busiest travel time of the year, while Sea-Tac was focused on getting passengers through the airport, she and her staff didn’t have time “to play cultural anthropologists.”
Threatening a lawsuit, I feel, violates the Jewish principle known in Hebrew as Kiddush HaShem, interpreted in the Talmud, part of ancient Jewish wisdom, as an action that encourages people to admire Jews. One need only read the comments on the Internet following the news accounts of the tree removal, to know that most people are feeling indignant and hurt. They certainly are not feeling more warmly toward Jews as a result of this mess.
Here I disclose that I know the rabbi involved, am friendly with him, and am sure that he didn’t intend this outcome. I like him, which makes it painful for me to point out that when one throws a punch (which is what bringing a lawyer and threatening to sue is equivalent to) and one gets decked in return, one cannot plead that one didn’t intend that outcome.
The outcome, whether intended or not, is that now vast numbers of passengers, most of whom are probably Christian, will be deprived of the cheerful holiday sight of pretty Christmas trees. What is more, they will know that their deprivation was caused by a Jewish rabbi. The rabbi’s lawyer told a television reporter, “There is a concern here that the Jewish community will be portrayed as the Grinch.”
No, Mr. Lawyer, it is not that Jews will be “portrayed” as the grinch. Sadly, now we are the grinch. You made us the grinch.
Now what is to be done? I have three requests:
I am asking every reader of this column to sign a petition on the Toward Tradition website beseeching Sea-Tac management to restore the Christmas trees.
I am asking every reader of this column to forward it to others who might be willing to sign this petition.
I am asking Jews in the Puget Sound region to join national radio host, Michael Medved, and me in offering our volunteer labor to Sea-Tac. We hope they will allow us to provide the labor necessary for replacing the trees so that airport staff need not be deflected from their important duties.
Why am I, an Orthodox Jewish rabbi, so concerned about a few Christmas trees? Not for a moment do I believe that American Christians will react to this insult with a flurry of anti-Semitic activity. But I do feel certain that perhaps in some small way, expelling Christmas symbolism from the airport makes it just a little harder to protect America’s Christian nature.
For centuries, we Jews suffered in a Europe governed by ecclesiastical authority. We suffered no less under the secular tyrannies of communism. Now, in post-Christian Europe, where both government and population are increasingly secular, anti-Semitism is dramatically on the rise. In short, we have never thrived under religious government or within secular cultures.
During the past two thousand years of Jewish history Jews have never enjoyed a more hospitable home than we enjoy here in the United States of America.
This is because we have a religiously neutral government and a largely religious Christian population. Most American Christians love Jews and support Israel unconditionally because of their commitment to the Bible and the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Evidence from across the Atlantic persuades me that our lot will deteriorate if America’s population gradually becomes secularized and removing the Christmas trees makes that disturbing likelihood, over time, more probable. Yes, public symbols are very important.
Years ago we Jews advocated for full equality. Today, with thirteen Jewish United States senators, over thirty Jewish congressmen, two Jews on the Supreme Court, and disproportionate Jewish representation in media and entertainment, one could reasonably say we have achieved it. But back then, the only culture in America was Christian. Today, however, America is home to many faiths, not all of them friendly towards Judaism.
Today, agitating for Jewish religious representation in the culture inevitably results not in equating Judaism with Christianity but the removal of both Judaism and Christianity. In other words, pushing for the menorah means removal of the Christmas tree and the triumph of secularism. Europe, both past and present, teaches us that if America becomes secularized, Jews suffer.
For fifteen years I have insisted that for Jews to oppose Christianity in America is a mistake. The world today is populated by millions who harbor festering hatred for Jews. There remains one group of people who love and support us and they are America’s Evangelical Christians. What possible sense does it make to fight your friends by stripping their symbols from sight?
When the Moslems invaded Spain, one of their first actions was the removal of all Christian symbols from public view. Secularism’s invasion of America is attempting exactly the same strategy. I implore American Jews not to ally themselves with this ill-fated campaign.
We are less than a week from the Jewish holiday of Chanukah during which our most important religious observance revolves around the blessings we say over the Menorah. In doing so, we oppose the still prevalent and ever more dangerous force of secularism.
When times change, unlike dinosaurs, wise organisms adapt. We should recognize that we all have a stake in protecting Christian symbolism in the village square (or the airport). The only alternative will be no religious symbolism at all and make no mistake, secularism’s rise is Judaism’s decline.
I spoke to the rabbi involved today and he is genuinely unhappy with the decision of Sea-Tac airport. I invited him to join the Toward Tradition petition and I hope he will do so. I urge you also to do whatever you can to help bring back Sea-Tac Airport’s Christmas trees. Let us all show that we care.
Exactly thirteen years ago, a brick was thrown through a Jewish home’s window in Billings, Montana because inside that window was displayed a menorah. Within days, over six thousand Christian homes in Billings protested that anti-religious bigotry by displaying menorahs in their windows.
I am not suggesting that Jews express their support by displaying Christmas trees in their windows but I am suggesting that Jews fulfill the spirit of Chanukah by supporting public expressions of the other Biblical faith. I don’t think that the airport was guilty of anti-religious bigotry but a weakening of Christianity in America could become a huge threat. For a start, let us try to restore Sea-Tac Airport’s Christmas trees.
Sign Petition: www.towardtradition.org/restorechristmas
No snow; no school by Susan Lapin
Our city’s schools had two snow days last week but there were no red cheeked children outside building snowmen, no peals of laughter as sleds raced downhill and no snowballs hurtling through the air. Why not? Well, there was no snow – or nothing more than a dusting on bushes and roofs.
I’m not criticizing the decision to close. Many of the classroom teachers come from a distance, and the areas around us truly were snowed in and roads were treacherous. The school board had no choice but to act as it did. But I couldn’t help recalling a passage from Laura Ingalls Wilder’s book, These Happy Golden Years, in which she describes a dilemma she faced as a young teacher. When two half-frozen students came three minutes (!!!) late to class after laboriously breaking a path through newly fallen snow, Miss Wilder could see how they had struggled on their mile long hike. But, after all; that didn’t change the fact that they were late! Should she or should she not mark them as tardy?
The very fact that such a question could be asked rings alien to modern ears. Yet that teacher from over a century ago not only asked the question, but answered it by seeing no choice but to truthfully mark the record, while at the same time inviting them to sit close to the stove.
As a mother and grandmother I have no desire to return to the days when a difficult trek to school was not unusual or when classroom heating in the winter was insufficient. But it is a human characteristic to not appreciate what we too easily obtain. And when education was not easily or universally available and sacrifices were demanded of families and children in order to access that education, learning was valued in a way that simply isn’t often found today. In all the (in my opinion) ridiculous discussions of how little we spend on education perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone. Let’s dismiss all custodial staff and have the students mop the floors, clean the bathrooms and take out the trash. We can save dollars and instill appreciation at the same time.
The fact that no one- even I- thinks that this proposal stands a chance of being considered is one piece in a complicated puzzle that explain why most eighth grade graduates of Laura Ingalls Wilders’ days had greater knowledge of history and civics and more developed English and math skills, not to mention greater moral development, than too many college students of today.
I Warned You that Ancient Jewish Wisdom Discouraged Investing in Sirius Satellite Radio
Don’t you just hate it when people proudly proclaim-“I told you so!” Don’t you hate it even more when they were right? Well, I told you so! Two years ago I said Howard Stern’s move from free radio to subscription-based satellite radio was going to bomb for Sirius which paid Stern about half a billion dollars to get him to move his show to Sirius.
Let’s go back to the beginning. When it came out last year, I wrote a review of Streisand’s movie, “Meet the Fockers.” In my review which I called “Our Worst Enemy,” I indicated that indeed, the worst enemy of the Jews is the Jews. It was the second time I wrote about Stern.
Here is an excerpt of what I wrote:
It is not only in movies that Jews besmirch Jews as sexualizing the culture. Ruth Westheimer told The New York Times of her love for Judaism, Israel, and the Jewish people. Meanwhile, as Dr. Ruth, with her grandmotherly appearance and her high-pitched Jewish accent, she titillates her audiences with shockingly explicit sexual advice.
Radio shock-jock Howard Stern intersperses his displays of dehumanizing depravity with a constant stream of “Oy veys” as if subconsciously compelled to highlight his Jewish ethnicity.
Jerry Springer, widely known as the Jewish former mayor of Cincinnati, normalizes depravity by projecting a deviant sub-culture and its cheering hooligans right into America’s living room.
A few years ago, the Los Angeles Jewish Journal gushingly profiled a Jewish pornographer whose stage name is Ron Jeremy. The piece praised the huge sums he’s been paid to “bed more gorgeous women than James Bond.” Jeremy, who proudly admits to have acted in or directed over 1,500 porn videos, cited the preponderance of Jewish men in porn and explained, “Jewish families tend to be more liberal than Christian ones, they aren’t obsessed by the fear of the devil or going to hell.” As if to eliminate any lingering doubt about Ron Jeremy’s Jewishness, the Jewish Journal breathlessly assures us that Ron Jeremy plans to marry in a synagogue.
The first time I wrote about Stern was when I predicted that Sirius would take a financial hit for paying so much for Stern’s notoriously raunchy radio show. Now the reports are in.
On his syndicated radio show Stern used to enjoy a daily audience of about 12 million Americans. On satellite he probably has fewer than 2 million listeners. On November 27th Forbes Magazine reported that after having become disconnected from most of his vast audience, Stern’s media mentions in 2005 were down 23% from 2004.
Since signing Stern, Sirius shares are down 44% though Stern probably did help Sirius gain new subscribers. Those subscribers number a little over 5 million right now but, and it is a great big, gigantic, monumental BUT, many of them do not listen to the Howard Stern Radio Show.
Reason: Simple. On good old fashioned free radio, Howard had an ally—the Federal Communications Commission. They gave Stern so much free publicity. They also granted him a unique niche in radio. For many in his demographic (adolescents of all ages) Stern was an irresistible attraction. Howard was willing to push the limits of drooling concupiscence beyond the point that all other radio hosts gave up. His show constantly earned the ire of the good commissioners and stations running his show were often fined for indecency. Howard didn’t mind. Those were his friends. They kept away the competition that lacked the stomach for confrontation with the government that Howard relished. Fans tuned in to each day to hear Stern escalate the scatology.
But there is one big problem with hosting shock radio. No matter what you do, each day you are only upping the ante for the next. Shock your audience today with breathtaking prurience, and tomorrow they expect better. Under the watchful eye of the FCC, Stern pushed the limit like nobody else. On satellite radio, there is no FCC. There are no limits and Howard enjoys no unique niche. There are plenty of hosts on the hundreds of channels who are selling shock and who are willing and eager to escalate it each day. But without the FCC, it’s just no fun. That is why so few of Sirius subscribers listen to Stern. On free radio they listened to him taunt the FCC like nobody else could or would. On satellite there is no shortage of shock jocks. Many are younger and edgier than Stern and they grab audience share.
It was not a hard call to predict that once Stern was out of reach of the FCC his competitive edge would erode. It would be like a circus tight rope walker who suddenly lowered his rope walking act to three feet off the ground. Without the risk there is no thrill. There is no risk for Stern on satellite and there certainly is no thrill. And to tell you the truth, if there is one less Jew out there purveying filth, I am happy. And I am happy I told you.
I may be Rabbi Daniel Lapin, but this post gets signed—
Ayatolah Youso.
On the occasion of the 15th anniversary (Yarhzeit) of the passing away of my late father, Rabbi A. H. Lapin
Dear Father,
It is exactly fifteen years since that unforgettably nightmarish moment when I answered the phone at my home in Los Angeles to hear Mom’s trembling voice. Her first six words told me all I didn’t want to know. “I have some very bad news, Daniel….” The obvious effort she was making trying to say the words without breaking down broke my heart. I needed to be by her side in San Jose.
Losing a father is a shattering moment that thrusts the utter loneliness of the universe coldly into the depths of every man’s soul. I tore a long gash in the left lapel of my suit jacket as the Torah describes and with eyes that seemed to have an inexhaustible reservoir of tears, flew to San Jose. Losing a husband must be every bit as bad as losing a father since the Torah routinely talks of widows and orphans.
As ancient Jewish tradition dictates, your funeral, Dad, followed very quickly. Before I could even begin to relate to my new fatherless reality we were laying your body to rest in Jerusalem. For the next week, in a small Jerusalem apartment, your widow and children sat Shiva together from morning to night.
It was a gentle healing time. There was no hysteria and no moments of uncontrollable grief. It was a week of bitter sweet memories and of profound discovery. We laughed quite a lot and discovered many things about you, Dad, that we never knew. During that week friends and relatives from all over the world came to pay their respects and stayed to talk of the remarkable man they remembered.
For instance, I discovered that early in your rabbinic career, soon after World War II, you established for the South African Jewish community, an office of Jewish-Christian relations. Only six months before you moved to the World of Truth, I laid out for you my plans for an American organization for Jews and Christians to jointly restore traditional values. I think I know why you never mentioned to me that this eerily echoed something you had done forty years earlier. I think I’ll keep that to myself.
I discovered the truth behind something you had once taught me. You had said that contrary to what one might expect, someone who had a wonderful marriage finds it a little easier to bear the loss of a spouse. One might think that when a person is delivered from a dreadful marriage by the death of a spouse, the bereavement is particularly easy to endure. The truth is quite the opposite.
For the survivor of a horrible marriage, there is nothing but desolate isolation. Since there never was much of a spiritual bond in that marriage to begin with, the physical departure of one spouse leaves the remaining partner with absolutely nothing.
However, in the case of a marvelous marriage, the spiritual connection is so strong that it even out shadows the physical. Thus when the physical bond is broken by death, the remaining spiritual bond still embraces the survivor. I saw this in the case of your marriage to Mom.
Dad, you must have known how your face lit up each time Mom walked into the room. I never tired of noting the change in your mood and expression whenever Mom returned to your presence. You went from solemn and introverted to effervescent and joyful. It was a wonder to behold and gave proof to that spiritual bond.
Susan often mentions that she spotted the same thing the first time she met you both and it powerfully reassured her in her decision to cast her lot in with me, so thanks for that.
The reason that Mom was able to function after you rejoined our Father in Heaven was that in many important ways, you were still with her. I am quite sure that she continued speaking to you because even I did that. The only difference is that I know Mom heard your responses each time she spoke whereas I only heard them on the important communal issues that I continued to discuss with you.
In the tractate of Berachot, ancient Jewish wisdom declares that the truly righteous, even after their physical death, are regarded as living. I now understood that. Had the entire essence of our relationship been tossing around a basketball each weekend, your absence would have been intolerable. However the essence of our relationship was you teaching me how the world really works. It was you introducing me to every subtle nuance of our covenant with God. It was you drilling me in meticulous review of hundreds, if not thousands of pages of Torah both oral and written. Well, none of that has ended. You’re almost as present in my life as you were fifteen years and a day ago. Something is of course different but it is the less important part of our relationship.
We weren’t much for tossing around the basketball, but we did love our regular family visits to the Kruger National Park. In those days…no blacktop roads, hot and cold running water, or accommodation with indoor plumbing. No, it was pretty rustic and you liked it that way. We cooked out of doors each evening during those game seeking expeditions. And during the days, we explored the veldt searching for elusive big game—the elephants, the lions, the giraffes and rhinoceros. You had an uncanny ability to find them.
Today they toss around the phrase ‘renaissance man.’ I don’t even know what it means any more. But you were moved by the music of Bach and Beethoven. The principal violinist of the South African Broadcasting Corporation Symphony Orchestra considered herself your friend. Shakespeare spoke to you and the rolling cadences of Winston Churchill’s speeches thrilled you as they did when you first heard him live in London during World War II. You knew Freud and you loved your 1911 edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica. You kept up with all scientific and medical advances and you found time to remain closely informed of political developments both at home and abroad. I still have you but the Jewish world today could really use you.
I am so grateful that all my children knew you. I grew up in your home. My children only have the second-hand benefit of growing up in the home of someone who grew up in your home, but they did know you and do remember you. They don’t remember you well enough to know how like you I have become. Many sons dread the moment they discover they are becoming their fathers. I longed for that moment.
Remember the time I damaged that fine British car you owned and loved? I was fourteen years-old and strictly speaking, shouldn’t really have been driving it in the first place. But then fortunately, you were always more concerned about my soul than about my body, letting me take physical risks but never spiritual ones. When I wrapped the fender around a telephone pole I don’t know whether I feared your anger or your sadness more. You exhibited neither. In total and perfect control of your emotions, you made me get behind the wheel and drive all that day with you alongside of me in the front passenger seat. It was quite a day.
You know what I am most nostalgic about? Today people feel a need to ostentatiously parade their piety with obtrusive displays of religious rigor. The permanently stern and unsmiling countenances; making sure all know of one’s absurdly restrictive rules; pompous renunciation of life’s pleasures; dark and gloomy theological theories; and yes, endless belittling of all one considers so very inferior. Your relationship with God was bright and beautiful. It made you respect everyone and it somehow made everyone love you. You were tough on yourself but easy and loving towards others. Most rabbis today are the opposite. They are remarkably easy on themselves and perhaps love themselves altogether too well. At the same time they ride roughly over the ordinary folks they encounter.
Just two recollections: I needed your help to carry the Torah teaching load in the Los Angeles Jewish community that I had established with my partner and friend and your student, Michael Medved. You flew from your home in San Jose to Los Angeles every two weeks to spend two days teaching. For years you flew a now defunct airline called PSA. Each time I took you to the airport and carried your bag to check in and each time I went to the airport to pick you up I witnessed PSA Airline staff express genuine friendship toward you. They actually knew you. What is more, they actually liked you.
In 1957 you took the entire family on sabbatical to the United Kingdom. We traveled from Cape Town to Southampton, as most did in those days, by a steamship of the Union Castle Line. The first Friday night we were on board we sat down at our kosher-catered table in the ship’s saloon and you prepared to recite the Kiddush—the weekly blessing over wine that welcomes the Sabbath and announces our conviction that in six days God made heaven and earth and on the seventh day He rested.
I don’t mind telling you that as a young boy, I was kind of hoping you’d whisper it quietly. My goodness, there must have been seven hundred people in that dining saloon and we were pretty much the only Jews. I suspected that you were going to say the Kiddush as loudly as you did at home and I quaked. I mean, did we really need to draw attention to ourselves?
You stood up straight and my eyes were glued to your erect figure. Mom sat next to you and the rest of us kids were arrayed around the table. You started the evocative phrases softly. So softly that with the noisy dining room hubbub of serving waiters, crockery clashing, and talking passengers, I could hardly hear you.
Then a strange thing happened. The waiters slowly stopped their serving. The tables fell silent and seven hundred people rose to their feet and gazed respectfully in our direction. Your voice rose slightly as you brought the benediction to a conclusion. The family responded Amen which was immediately echoed softly by hundreds of lips around the room. Your warmth and dignity radiated through the dining room and from then onwards for the remaining two weeks of the voyage, you seemed to have seven hundred best friends on board ship.
Times are changing. Fifteen years have gone by. You used to tell me that there is no way I could comprehend the greatness of your teachers in pre-World War II Europe. Now I tell my students that there is no way they can fully comprehend the human greatness of the teachers I was privileged to have. Among them all, nobody stands taller than you. I do hope that you are as proud of being my father as I am of being your son.
Love
Daniel
How funny is Borat? by Susan Lapin
Unlike vast numbers of Americans, I didn’t go see Borat this week. Neither is it on my schedule for the future. Now, considering that theatres would be out of business if they relied on my patronage, not going might seem to be a simple decision. But it wasn’t. People whose views I trust told me that they have never, ever laughed as hard as they did while watching this movie. And after a vicious election season and surrounded as we are in the Northwest by grey skies, escaping into laughter would be welcome indeed.
So, why didn’t I go? It seemed that everyone felt that they had to add an explanatory note to their laughter:
“You’ll love it. I was laughing so hard, I was crying.”
“My stomach hurt from laughing.”
was inevitably followed by:
“Of course, I had to cover my eyes at some points because it was so vulgar.” And
“It was way over the top sometimes.”
So, why did I decide not to go? Aside from the fact that I am highly intolerant of bad language, which in itself might have me cringing as much as laughing, I mostly didn’t go out of fear that I too would find myself laughing uncontrollably. The opening sentence of the very first Psalm in King David’s book starts with the words, “Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked” continues with “nor stands in the way of sinners” and concludes with “nor sits in the seat of scorners.” There is clearly a progression here. In increasing order of involvement we have walking with –an almost casual connection, moving on to standing –stopping and paying attention, and then the most serious involvement – sitting down with someone. And who is the person whom we have to fear sitting with? In Hebrew, the word translated as scorner is “laytz”, from which comes the word “laytzan”, meaning a clown. King David is warning us that humor can be incredibly dangerous. Skilled people can get us to laugh at things we truly value and by laughing, we diminish those things. If we value purity of language, or our country, or relationships between men and women, or people treating a stranger hospitably, but are moved to laughter when they are abused or mocked, then we have tarnished those things.
So I’m not going to see Borat; not so much out of a fear that I won’t find it funny, but more out of a fear that I will.
On Time? It Depends. (Susan Lapin)
My husband and I didn’t know each other during our school days. But it seems that we took very different approaches to our studies. When I was assigned a paper that was due, let’s say, in six weeks, I immediately gave myself a slightly earlier artificial due date in case of unexpected impediments, and then working backwards, put in intermediary deadlines. And I met all my deadlines, ideally with the final work ready a few days early or at worst, on time.
Not so my husband. From what I hear it seems that his methodology was quite different. To begin with, he pretty much ignored the assignment figuring that if it was important it would get mentioned again. If it began to seem pressing he would mentally make a list of all the reasons it might not be necessary to actually do it. After all, teachers have been known to get sick, schools to burn down and epidemics to break out. It would certainly be a shame to put in all that work and find out that after all, the deadline was cancelled. If, the night before the due date nothing cataclysmic had occurred and he had used up his quota of feigned illnesses, then there was nothing to do but work through the night and hand in as much of the work as could be done at the last minute. (Guess whose school stories our children had more fun listening to?)
Since we weren’t in class together and never had to deal with a team academic project, these differing work methods didn’t seem to form a barrier to a successful marriage. And over the years, while we discussed and helped each other with everything we did whether it was preparing lectures, homeschooling our children, writing books or paying bills, each activity fell mainly into one of our domains. Everything worked fine until we technically became empty nesters last year. (I say technically because there still seem to be a lot of people running around our house, but I digress). At that point we decided to launch a new endeavor to vastly increase production of books and audio material. With my homeschooling years behind me, I theoretically had endless newly freed hours to devote to this project as well as to our organization, Toward Tradition. We could work as a team on a joint venture.
Well, over the past year, we have each learned many new things. I have come to see that even with the best of intentions, running a business entails lots of variables that aren’t always within one’s control. Sometimes, deadlines need to be flexible. And my husband has learned that when he tells me that something will be ready by Monday, I actually enter that on my calendar and count on having it. Most of all, we’ve confirmed that we’d rather work with each other than with anyone else. We are pleased to announce that our web-site is finally up and our store is open. We have one new product of which we are immensely proud and others in the pipeline. Most of all, we’re glad to have you along for the ride.
Food Memories
Cookbooks are spread out all over the table signaling the approach of Rosh HaShana (the beginning of the Jewish year 5767) and heralding the many holidays which trail in Rosh HaShana’s wake. Even though on one of those holidays we abstain from food and drink for 25 hours, the month following the first day of the new year is chock full of feasting. Throw in some children wending their way home for the holidays along with guests for each festive meal and the cooking adds up. Despite that, the cookbooks are actually more for window dressing than for practicality.
That is because each holiday has its own traditional foods and I have no intention of breaking rank this year. Some of those foods, like apples dipped in honey to welcome in a sweet year, will be found universally at Jewish tables. Others, like Pears Helene, have become our own family’s traditions, to the point that a Sukkot (Feast of Tabernacles) without that dessert would feel lacking. So, while I might add one new side dish or replace the honey cake that my husband tells me he loves but never eats more than one slice from, with a new pastry, for the most part all I do is look at my menus going back to the first year I was married, and make exactly the same things one more time.
I’ve already baked my mandlen otherwise known as soup nuts. (Warning – these bear absolutely no resemblance to items sold under the same name in the local supermarket) I needed to make these soup accompaniments early in order to be able to mail them out to the children who won’t be home for Rosh HaShana. Sending them gives the long distance children a taste of home and a tangible sign that I’m thinking of them and missing them. But there’s way more in the package. Not only are the mandlen concrete evidence of my love, they are also meant to serve as reminders. The recipe I use was handed down to me by my mother and grandmother and when my mother-in-law shared a few of her favorite recipes with me, it was in that treasure trove as well. So the mandlen are meant to remind my children of their origins. They are meant to force the recipients to answer the question of whether these women, and the women from whom they got the recipes so on and so forth, would be proud to claim them as descendants. Whether their actions reflect well on those who came before them, or whether they diminish them.
Another name for Rosh HaShana is The Day of Remembrance. It is a day for Jews to remember from where we come and to hope that our actions reflect well on Him. It is a day for asking God to remember us with mercy rather than with harsh judgment. It is a good day and the beginning of a good month in which to eat foods that link us to our past, because staying true to that past is one of the surest ways to propel ourselves into a good future.
Preschool angst
Let me get this straight. According to this morning’s Wall Street Journal, America’s preschoolers’ emotional health is being threatened by the high turnover of the staff at their schools. In other words, mothers who aren’t willing to sacrifice their own time and ambitions in order to raise their own children are dismayed that employees who are paid an average of $10 an hour won’t make endless sacrifices and totally commit to those same children.
Having decided as a society that it is o.k. for parents to walk out of full time participation in a child’s life through the medium of divorce, having decided as a society that giving birth to a child should in no way pressure a mother to stay home with that child, we are now aghast that low paid babysitters (which is what they are despite our calling them educators in order to assuage our guilt) feel no commitment to their charges even if their leaving leaves a hole in the child’s heart.
The article urges parents to try and spend more time with the child when a beloved teacher leaves so that the child will feel secure. That is of course, if you’re lucky enough to have a teacher stay around long enough to be beloved. Had parents spent more time with the child in the first place they wouldn’t have needed to pretend that a three year old was better off in “school” than in the home. Children are incredibly adaptable. All sorts of people can and do waltz in and out of their lives– grandparents, aunts and uncles, neighbors, babysitters, – as long as their parents are an unmovable constant and present nucleus. Pretending that quality time beats quantity time or that spending a week’s vacation together can replace the hours of loving attention a child needs is a myth. Making believe that the immense amount of knowledge a two year old can absorb is best transmitted in a formal setting by a staff member is a fable. Transferring the core relationship of motherhood to a preschool employee and then feeling betrayed when that person walks away from the job, might suggest that the entire enterprise was founded on a misguided notion. Anyone fooling themselves into believing that a preschool that advertises a “loving environment” can equal the love that should be found in the home should appreciate the dose of reality supplied by the marketplace.
Professional Wives
There’s been quite a brouhaha going on over at Forbes Magazine. It all started when author Michael Noer published an on-line article with a pretty provocative opener.
“Guys: A word of advice. Marry pretty women or ugly ones. Short ones or tall ones. Blondes or brunettes. Just, whatever you do, don't marry a woman with a career. "
The article proceeds to list studies showing that the chances for a happy marriage are lessened when a wife out earns her husband, or even has a strong commitment to a professional career. Not surprisingly, in a world where Harvard president Lawrence Summers was ousted for a pretty innocuous statement about differences between the sexes, a fury erupted both at Forbes and elsewhere.
The article was yanked though later re-instated along with a rebuttal article by Forbes writer Elizabeth Corcoran. Now, she certainly was at a disadvantage having to write on the spot, but her article reads like it should appear in Oprah rather than in Forbes. Her arguments for dealing with what she classifies as her colleague’s “downright dangerous story” seem to fall into two categories. Firstly, she is a career woman and is happily married and secondly, men have a responsibility in marriage too.
Quite frankly, her own marriage has nothing to do with anything since Mr. Noer never claimed that studies show that 100% of marriages involving career women don’t work and as for the second point, I can’t seem to make the connection between the fact that men have a responsibility in marriage and the studies quoted.
For my own part, I wouldn’t advise anyone to marry or not or indeed to run any part of their life according to a study. It’s so terribly inconvenient when, as frequently happens, conflicting studies appear or the methodology of a study is questioned or years later it turns out that the study didn’t actually say what people thought it did. And by definition, studies deal in generalizations while people are unique
Notwithstanding that, I would certainly tell my children, who have to listen to my advice whether they want to or not, and anyone else who might ask, that marriage is a partnership with a much greater chance of success when one party, and in 95% of the cases it will work better for that party to be the wife, sees overseeing the marriage as her priority, while the other partner sees providing financial stability as his. This has nothing to do with the fact that cleaning help can be hired and meals can be eaten in restaurants. (Though there is a world of difference between a meal cooked by a stranger and a meal cooked with love.) It has nothing to do with the fact that women can be competent and succesful in business. It has everything to do with the fact that it is all to easy for the husband/wife relationship to be relegated to a back burner, whether or not there are children, and just as in any business, you want to make sure that someone is responsible for taking the pulse of the enterprise and adjusting accordingly. If both partners are immersed in outside careers, neither has the energy or time to constantly monitor and make adjustments, or arrange for the other to do so, as needed. Marriage is a career in itself.
For anyone looking to get married, I would suggest ignoring studies and instead looking for a few long-term, happily married couples whose lives reflect what the single hopes to have. They should then spend time with and have many conversations with those couples to find out the realities of married life really are from those who actually have managed to build a successful one.
Watching Seattle Mariners beating the Yankees
Last night my daughter, Miriam, and I joined over 40,000 other fans of the Seattle Mariners at Safeco Field in Seattle. We watched from the sky-suite of The Crocker Group as Adrian Beltre gave the Mariners a victory over the New York Yankees in a heart-stopping, game-winning home run in the ninth inning. Last night’s wonderful win won’t dramatically change the fate of the Seattle Mariners who have lost about 10 games in a row, but it sure uplifted the spirits of almost everyone in attendance.
The blue sky and the green grass on a balmy late summer evening with the salty smell of Puget Sound just evident, gave extra poignancy to the lusty roars of the large crowd. It was hard not to be moved by the sheer Americanism of the experience. Miriam, soon off to Bible school in Jerusalem, said, “Daddy, there are quite a few things about this event that Moslem extremists wouldn’t like.” To my raised eyebrow she explained that the effervescent cheerfulness of the crowd would surely irritate them, as would such a large number of people being able to spend a few hours in close quarters without a riot, without Kalashnikovs being fired into the air, and without a religious harangue from some mullah. (I offered one from a rabbi but there were no takers in the suite we were guests at.)
It was hard to ignore the bellows of anger and the earsplitting chorus of boos each time that Alex Rodriguez stepped onto the field. You see, he had played for the Mariners for about seven years before signing with the Texas Rangers in 2000 and moving to the New York Yankees about four years later. Seattle has never forgiven him for leaving Seattle for mere money.
Frankly, I don’t get it. Is anyone laboring under the delusion that sports is somehow disconnected from business? Do fools in Fremont feel that everybody is allowed to act in his own best financial interests except ball players? My view is that profit is not plunder and that the overall experience available to sports fans has been enormously enhanced by the games becoming business-like. There are countries in which sports is no more than an extension of government. I would much rather sports stays firmly in the private sector.
That means that fans must buy game tickets as they buy coffee, not as they try to secure medical attention or purchase stamps at the post office. As part of the unwritten contract of business that says both parties must benefit, sports must provide fans with value for their money. 42,000 joyful people in a Seattle ball park last night said they succeeded.
The Lure of the Ostrich
One of our daughters broke out in a pretty impressive head to toe rash a few days ago. While the likely culprit appeared to be an allergic reaction, we had helpful sibling suggestions ranging from typhoid to scarlet fever to smallpox. The banter was actually pretty funny (I realize the humor doesn't translate to print) but only because no one seriously suspected any of the ailments they were proposing. I doubt if the mention of smallpox elicited many smiles a few centuries ago.
Yet, under the surface, while I frequently count my blessings that so many illnesses that struck fear into the lives of our ancestors are either eradicated or mangeable today, I have an uneasy feeling that in other spheres, life is moving, once again, into an era of insecurity, unpleasantness and danger.
So I find myself listening more and more to country music when I'm in the car, and much less to talk radio. Likewise, I'm more inclined to pick up a book while grabbing a snack rather than the newspaper. Because, quite frankly, real life is looking pretty scary right now.
I want to focus on the daily challenges and joys of family, work and friends, and ignore a disturbing feeling that each and every one of us won't have the option for long of ignoring a world filled with people following an evil doctrine who have in the past and can in the future cause immense suffering with extremely low tech methods and who increasingly have access to incredibly powerful high tech ones. That our involvement is going to go beyond contributing to this political campaign or that one, or having passionate debates with friends, or feeling bad for and giving charity to people living thousands of miles away from us.
But, for today, I need to help some kids get ready for school, spend time working and try to get further down my "to do" list. On goes the country CD, which is probably as effective in warding off danger as a garlic necklace was in warding off infection.
The American Prospect notes my TBN tv appearance
The American Prospect-- "An authoritative magazine of liberal ideas, committed to a just society, an enriched democracy, and effective liberal politics" founded by former Clinton administration official, Robert Reich, among others, commented on one of my Trinity Broadcasting Network appearances. They dislike Pastor John Hagee whom I regard as an American patriot, a great Christian leader, and an esteemed friend of all Jews, particularly me.
On Purim, the Jewish holiday that celebrates the day Queen Esther saved the Jews from annihilation, Trinity Broadcasting Network’s flagship talk show, Praise the Lord, featured an appearance by Rabbi Daniel Lapin. A politically conservative Orthodox rabbi, Lapin is best known for crusading with the Christian right against “anti-religion bigotry” and, more recently, for his close association with the convicted super-lobbyist Jack Abramoff. But he was not invited to a nationwide telecast to discuss such topics as the trumped-up war against religion or the better nature of his fallen friend. He had been asked to explain the significance of Purim to Christians, and particularly how the Old Testament’s Book of Esther “serves as a roadmap to reality,” which pinpoints where the next world “hot spot” will be.
That soon-to-be-flaming location is where the Book of Esther was set: namely Persia, or in modern parlance, Iran.
Seated beside Lapin in the ornately gilded Trinity Broadcasting Network (TBN) studio was Pastor John Hagee, the author of an incendiary new book purporting to show that the Bible predicts a military confrontation with Iran. By then, Hagee’s book, Jerusalem Countdown, had sold nearly 500,000 copies. It had occupied the No. 1 position on the Wal-Mart inspirational best-seller list, showed up on Wal-Mart’s list of top 10 best sellers for seven weeks, and made the USA Today top 50 best-seller list for six weeks. (more)
Honored to be guest speaker for Senator Rick Santorum
Last night, at a beautiful home on the shores of Lake Washington, deeply committed leaders of the 'faith and family' community, a few dozen couples, gathered to raise funds and offer encouragement to Senator Rick Santorum (R) Pennsylvania. The senator is facing a difficult challenge for his senate seat. Not only is he a passionate defender of traditional values, but he is passionate about winning the war being waged by part of the culture of the Koran against the twin civilizations of the Bible.
In my speech I pointed out how every miracle recounted in the Torah required a seed. God never delivered until someone had put out effort himself. I found it quite reasonable to ask those of us whose economic efforts had been blessed to support a candidate whose beliefs and policies encourage the very values that ultimately contribute most to a healthy economy. That's right, children being brought into the world and raised with the self-discipline and persistence common in traditional families do more to assure economic growth than subtle fiddling with interest rates or money supply figures. If you doubt this, just take a look at the stipends and benefits being offered by European and some Asian governments to women as inducements to have children.
It is always heartwarming and uplifting to spend relaxed time with like-minded and good people. Between the fine wine and the glow the setting sun shed on the lakefront, Susan and I found it a beguiling evening.
Well, it is almost time for the sun to set now today which means that Shabbat is about to begin. The Jewish Sabbath runs for about 25 hours starting just before sunset on Friday evening. No phone, no car driving, no fax, no radio or television--it's a blessed oasis in time for me. No email or blogging either. That is a little bit of a hardship! (Just joking).
Make it a great weekend.
A Safer Society for All
The words "A safer society for all" aren't my own. They are quoted by the Seattle Times as being said by Dayna Klein, one of the women shot at the Jewish Federation building of Seattle about three weeks ago. I certainly am sorry for her suffering and share her goal of having a safer society. I'm afraid however, that what we don't share is a common vision for reaching that goal.
I was upset, though not surprised, that a mentally disturbed individual would act on hateful impulses that may well have been stoked from many different directions. Likewise, I was upset, though not surprised a few years ago when a knife wielding man attacked and killed a retired firefighter who was leaving a sports stadium downtown. The list of upsetting but not surprising assaults is, I'm afraid long and shows no sign of lessening.
What I do find shocking is that, knowing how many unbalanced people there are in the world, let alone how many evil people with evil intentions there are, anyone would believe that our society can successfully keep weapons, or anything that can potentially be a weapon - in other words any and everything - out of their hands. My solution for a safer society, is diametrically opposed to Mrs. Klein's. I wish that she or one of her co-workers had had a gun on hand and the training to use it, just as I wish that some teachers in Columbine, CO had been so armed. Fairy tale dreaming may suggest that gun control reduces crime; unfortunately down to earth statistics show the opposite result. History also shows that governments that enforced strict gun control, like Nazi Germany and Stalinist Russia, were frequently pretty unhealthy ones for Jews among others.
I wish having a safer society could be brought about by something as simple as passing stricter gun control laws. My concern is that while emotional, passionate, and mostly well intentioned arguments can be made for that being the case, reality reveals otherwise.
As I remember Lebanon, well, Christian Lebanon actually.
While I was a young student at the yeshiva of Kfar Chassidim, a 45 minute bus ride from the Haifa railway station, back in the 60s, Lebanon played an important role in the most cherished of all student pranks.
Pranks for me carried a high price at this famed yeshiva because the elder eminence at the academy was my great uncle. That more was expected of me inhibited me in undesirable ways. Nonetheless, I pranked away with the best of my fellow students. The most outrageous of pranks were generally executed only by those students whose academic performance provided them with adequate cover against severe penalty. In my case of course, family connection served the same purpose.
Of all our pranks, none was more taboo than illegally sneaking over the border, not too far north of our school, into Lebanon.
The idea was to hike to the nearest road and hitch a ride into Beirut. It was considered good form to take along a fellow student who spoke French or Arabic.
Beirut deserved its reputation as the Switzerland of the Mediterranean. It was an efficient, cosmopolitan city populated by well dressed people who seemed to work hard and play hard. During the day there appeared to be a bank on every corner, while at night, the banks subsided into obscurity and now there appeared to be a glittery night-club on every corner. The beaches and cafes were delightful and the people friendly. Oh! Did I forget to mention that the dominant influence in Beirut in those days, was Christian and not Islamic?
I am not the only one who forgot. Apparently most of the media either suffers from amnesia or considers it impolitic to mention that while Christianity dominated Lebanese society, the place functioned. And it functioned well. It was actually a wonderful place to visit.
When Islam began to flex its muscles and Lebanon basically allowed the PLO (which had been expelled from Jordan) to set up shop in 1971, things began to go downhill. Barbarism reasserted itself.
Evident even to surreptitious yeshiva students, the decline was painful to watch. Bikinis gave way to burkhas, haute couture gave way to rags, street cafe patrons vanished before roving street gangs, and sparkling nightlife quickly retreated before a flood of sewage in the streets. During my student years, Christian civilization ended in Beirut and the era of Islam began to bring destruction just as surely as it did thirteen centuries ago.
How did we students prove our illicit escapade? The preferred evidence was to purchase and bring back an item of stylish clothing with the Beirut department store label still intact. To us students, there was never any doubt that Christianity created and maintained civilization in Lebanon just as Judaism did the same in Israel.
Why mostly Muslims seem to kill over cartoons, or pretty much anything else
Callers to my radio show www.ksfo.com frequently ask me why Muslims are so quick to kill. Before anyone knew that the name of the pistol-packing shooter at Seattle's Jewish Federation building on July 28th was Naveed Afzal Haq, it was not hard to guess that he was a son of the desert.
If one hears that someone slit the throat of an airline stewardess while screaming "god is great" it is not too challenging for most people to make a guess at which god the murderer had in mind.
It is not only infidels getting killed by Muslims. There is no shortage of instances of Muslims killing Muslims. It is not only killing but general brutality.
Cutting off the hand of a fellow who stole a loaf of bread is not routine in London or Boston. If one hears of someone sentenced to death for adultery, it is a fair guess that it didn't happen in a district court in Wichita, Kansas. If an execution is carried out by beheading before an enthusiastic audience, it is a fair guess that it took place under Moslem law, Sharia.
So what is going on?
Could this help us understand?
---oooOooo---
Abraham had two sons, Yishmael and Isaac. (In Hebrew, Yishmael is spelled, like all Hebrew words, without vowels. Yi-SH-M-L . In Hebrew there is only one letter for the sounds SH and S. Thus, we have Abraham's first son's name easily becoming Yi-S-M-L. Then with the passage of time and journeys through cultural time/space, the M & L metastasize into Yi-S-L-M, or pronounced correctly, ISLM or Islam.)
---oooOooo---
Abraham worked on synthesizing the two characteristics of human social interaction--justice and mercy, or if you wish, rigid discipline and compassionate tenderness.
Obviously things work best when both are applied in a unified fashion. For instance, one reason that children do best when raised by both a mother and a father is because in general, most women tend intuitively toward the compassionate tenderness side of things while most men tend toward the tough and rigid discipline side of things. (That is why one long standing tradition in American families is the mom saying to her rambunctious brood, "Just wait till your father gets home!")
---oooOooo---
Jacob later inherits from his dad, Isaac, a fastidious emphasis on blending the two into Jewish culture. Thus Judaism is disciplined and rigorous about the many rules surrounding kosher food, (not even a milligram of cheese on an otherwise kosher burger) and the exact time when Sabbath begins (18 minutes before sunset on Friday, not 17 minutes) yet also merciful and compassionate in all matters like the treatment of women in general, and widows and divorcees in particular, treatment of animals (don't allow a mother bird to observe you taking an egg from the nest) and many other examples.
---oooOooo---
Could it be that Christianity took away from Abraham slightly more emphasis on love, mercy, and compassion while Islam took away from Abraham, through Yishmael, a lot more emphasis on judgment and rigid discipline? Thus many of the rules that inflexibly circumscribe Jewish life do not exist in Christianity. Similarly, one might be able to observe, many of the gentle allowances for human nature found in Judaism have vanished in Islam.
---oooOooo---
Ancient Jewish Wisdom records how Yishmael taunted his half-brother, Isaac, saying "You just couldn't take the pain!" He explained that he, Yishmael was circumcised when he was 13 years-old, and he lay there and took it. However, Isaac was circumcised when he was but 8 days old--too young to protest. So emphatic is tradition about Yishmael's courage about allowing an operation upon his most delicate organ, that he is given great credit for this. Furthermore, it is my belief that this deeply embedded cultural locus lies at the heart of that strange and ubiquitous feature of Islamic architecture, the minaret--surely a phallic symbol.
---oooOooo---
That ability to take pain, as well as enduring the pain of inflicting pain could be an enduring legacy of Yishmael's embrace of half of the Abrahamitic equation. Uncompromisingly harsh application of justice is an unmistakable characteristic of Islam. It is perhaps not an accident that the geography of Islam, the deserts and dunes of Arabia and Afghanistan, is a harsh and desolate place. (think: Lawrence of Arabia, the 1962 film starring Peter O' Toole with its overwhelming impressions of the harshness of the desert.)
Nothing could be more different from the green fields of England and western Europe where Christianity shaped the culture.
One could perhaps suggest that Israel, with its orange groves and tree-lined streets best represents the blend.
In these meanderings, I am not excusing Haq or any homicide bomber, I merely suggest that there may be more spiritual consistency than meets the eye.
---oooOooo---
Israel comings and goings
Our son, Ari, arrived home Wednesday night after six weeks of being a volunteer EMT working as part of an ambulance crew for the Magen David Adom, Israel's version of the Red Cross. We have yet to hear his stories, but I will admit to joy at having him at home, where I can more easily live under the illusion that I can keep him safe. That gave me two days of breathing more easily, until I received an e-mail from our daughter, Rachelle, telling me that she plans on leaving tomorrow night on a volunteer mission where she will be part of a team providing trauma counseling in Northern Israel. At least Ari wasn't where the rockets are landing.
I'm a mother and worry is part of the job description. My concerns are certainly nothing compared to those of my friend, Cindy, whose son has been a Marine in Iraq for what feels like a very long time. Yet, at the same time as part of me wishes that we were having a boating vacation this summer, where I get to have everyone under one (relatively) small roof and in sight most of the day, I am grateful for seeing our children grow into adults who feel a pull towards giving of themselves and standing with the beleagured Jewish nation. I know that like many other mothers, if given the choice, I'd have to opt for children who, if they can, step forward when needed rather than ones who can't think of any greater cause for which to devote their time and energies than themselves.
