In related news, I've been reading Douglas Rushkoff's Nothing Sacred.
Nano-review so far: I like the big ideas, but the small factual errors are driving me batty.
But here's an insightful excerpt that dovetails with Rooftopper Rav's post, about what went wrong with Classical Reform:
Traditionally, the rabbis' main function was educational. They spoke to the congregation in the synagogue only twice a year, before Passover in order to remind Jews of specific rules and again before Yom Kippur to explain the meaning of repentance. Otherwise, their job was to teach Torah study in a classroom around a big table. Occasionally, their knowledge of Jewish law would enable them to resolve a local dispute. Religious services were led by the cantor, who stood at a table in the middle of the room, surrounded by congregants and other laypeople.
By changing the role of rabbi to that of a minister and putting him on what amounted to a stage in front of the room, reformers inadvertently led congregants to think about their own role in services very differently. Rabbis were now intermediaries between Jews and the God and laws with which they had always enjoyed personal relationships. Instead of focusing on the community of congregants with whom they were worshiping, Jews faced a stage and listened to the words of their rabbi, engaged in responsive reading, or followed along in rabbi-led rituals.
Congregants couldn't help but regress into a more childlike relationship to their rabbi and the religion he ministered. They transferred parental authority onto the rabbi and expected him to exemplify the piety to which they themselves could only strive. This served only to isolate rabbis from the spiritual communities on whom they could once depend for comfort and support.
Relieved of personal, adult responsibility for their religious practices, Jews tended to perform rituals and observances in a more perfunctory fashion. The religion became less participatory and more talismanic. Traditions like the mezuzah on the doorpost or a skullcap on one's head now served not as a point of mental focus, but as a hollow, rote performance or compulsive superstition. Religious education stressed how to behave, but very rarely delved into why.
"Talismanic" is the best description I've seen for the approach to physical ritual in some Reform (and other) Jewish communities. The Classical Reform leaders tried to be iconoclastic by eliminating tefillin and such, but the masses still had a need for ritual objects, so they ended up fetishizing things like the Torah trimmings (we spent lots of time in Sunday school learning about the crowns, the belt, etc.). So the result, after this attempt at iconoclasm, is the same reliance on physical objects, but the situation has worsened, because the ritual objects are now up on a stage in the front of the synagogue, rather than wrapped around one's arm and between one's eyes.
Of course, Orthodox communities are no better. Some new minhagim surrounding kiddush seem to border on transubstantiation. I've seen people make kiddush on a cup of wine, then pour that cup back into the bottle, mix it up, then pour for everyone from that bottle, to make sure everyone gets some of the wine that had been "blessed". And there are other variants that also ensure that the transubstantiated wine makes its way to everyone. This is unnecessary! Jews don't bless the wine; we bless the creator of the wine. The blessing does not change the status of the wine; it changes the status of the person who makes the blessing (or the people who respond "amen" to it), so that s/he becomes permitted to consume the wine. Therefore, there's no non-superstitious reason against someone making kiddush on his/her own cup and everyone else responding "amen" and drinking from their own cups.
It is not in heaven, to say "Who will go up for us to heaven and get it for us and tell it to us so that we may do it?" And it is not across the sea, to say "Who will cross the sea for us and get it for us and tell it to us so that we may do it?" The thing is very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to do it.
Some new minhagim surrounding kiddush seem to border on transubstantiation. I've seen people make kiddush on a cup of wine, then pour that cup back into the bottle, mix it up, then pour for everyone from that bottle, to make sure everyone gets some of the wine that had been "blessed".
ReplyDeleteThat would be the least of it, though at Penn we do the same thing with kiddush. Actually, pretty much everywhere. I think it's funny that people won't talk until they get their wine/grape juice. The halacha isn't that you personally need to drink the wine, it's that you hear kiddush, and the wine is drunk, not even necessarily by the maker of kiddush.
But there are worse things. Segulahs and brachas. I've often had trouble with those. Orthodox Judaism has always struggled with the balance of free will and God's omnipotence. I personally believe that prayer won't necessarily change God's mind. If God wants you to have this experience and learn from it, well you'll have this experience and learn from it.
So then, when women sleep on a bed that many other women have slept on and found their future husband in a short period of time afterwards*, what's that going to do? Do you think that God will change His mind because of that? If it does depend on God, then it's God's decision. Maybe heartfelt prayer will help, so God knows that you believe in him and are putting your faith in him.
And then going to a Rabbi for a bracha? Why will the words that some Rabbi says change what is going to happen to you. If it's dependent on you, then you have to get off your @$$ and do something. If it's dependent on God, then why would a rabbi's prayers be any more likely to be heard by God than your own, your own prayers which are heartfelt and sincere, and full of your own emotions?
To conclude, chairs don't get people pregnant, sex gets people pregnant. (And when I find the article on that, I'll send it)
[*A friend once said "Sleeping in a different bed is not going to help you get engaged." Of course, then she realized what she had said...]
(And should this go up in my blog?)
Very insightful. And concluded with an incredible quote.
ReplyDeleteActually, saying kiddush does absolutely change the status of the wine. And it has nothing to do with Christian mishegas.
ReplyDeleteThat said, mixing the wine back in like that is kind of dumb, because any open wine or grape juice on the table has the status of having had kiddush said on it. In fact, if you have an open bottle on the table during kiddish, you cannot use the wine in that bottle for kiddish in the future, as it has a status of "kos pagum".
I have been reading about the Gnostics in Elaine Pagel's book, The Gnostic Gospels. (Thanks, ER!) Apparently, some groups of Gnostics would alternate which member of their community played each role in their services that week-- one would preach a sermon, one would conduct the ritual, one would prophesy, etc. They selected different people each week by drawing lots. I would like to think of an ideal Jewish community as one in which every member would be educated enough to do this-- we'd just draw lots when we arrived at services to see who would act as the shaliach tzibur, who would give the d'var torah, etc. This approach demonstrates a tremendous amount of faith and trust in individual community members and asserts the worth of each member's contribution. Of course, the Gnostics also had pretty stringent requirements to become part of their community, so they were elitist in that way.
ReplyDeleteApparently, some groups of Gnostics would alternate which member of their community played each role in their services that week
ReplyDeleteSounds like a havurah!
Of course, the Gnostics also had pretty stringent requirements to become part of their community, so they were elitist in that way.
Sounds like a 1970s havurah! :)
I would like to think of an ideal Jewish community as one in which every member would be educated enough to do this-- we'd just draw lots when we arrived at services to see who would act as the shaliach tzibur, who would give the d'var torah, etc.
That would be awesome! Let's do it. Though I'd prefer to draw lots a week in advance. No matter how educated I become, I don't want to give a d'var torah without preparation.
perhaps implicit in the system of drawing lots and then giving a dvar torah on the spot is the assumption that everyone has already spent time learning the parsha and teasing out interesting points. this seems like a neat system. think about how much better the discussions can be when the material is fresh in everyone's mind and everyone has developed a thought or series of thoughts which are reasonably new.
ReplyDeletesounds like a neat system to me.
occasionally when i was in college the folks on the board would forget to assign the dvar torah and i would get about 3-5 minutes to put some abbreviated thoughts toghether. it was supprisingly exhilirating.
i suggest it.
as for the wine business it seems to track a hassidic minahag of the rebbe making motzei and then throwing bread around the room to hassidim who very much wanted the challah that he specifically blessed. when there are a lot of people around i use a similar minhag not because anyone cares about my blessing but because it gets the challah distributed much faster if you toss half loaves.
Yes, the factual errors are maddening. I had almost exactly the same response to Rushkoff as you did. The conclusions are great, but his argument is missing both theoretical and factual/historical grounding. I guess its up to us to write the book which combines both.
ReplyDeletePS Im flying back to the US motzash, hope to see ya sometime before we gather at havurah.
The halacha isn't that you personally need to drink the wine, it's that you hear kiddush, and the wine is drunk, not even necessarily by the maker of kiddush.
ReplyDeleteUm, not to point out halacha, but Knitter, if one wants to be yotzei on the "borei pri hagafen" of the person saying kiddush, (and want to drink the wine without saying their own bracha) - then one can not speak until one has had a drink, otherwise they would be causing a hefsek (which is the same for any bracha said until consumated).
I'm sorry to nit-pick, but it is a pet-peeve of mine when people pasken halacha incorrectly (the same annoyance as people who can't tell the difference between they're being machmir and the other opinions are in fact, not assur).
AK-
ReplyDeleteUm, not to point out halacha, but Knitter, if one wants to be yotzei on the "borei pri hagafen" of the person saying kiddush, (and want to drink the wine without saying their own bracha) - then one can not speak until one has had a drink, otherwise they would be causing a hefsek (which is the same for any bracha said until consumated).
You might be right about the hefsek, if they want to be yotzei the borei p'ri ha gafen, but I think that the whole not talking thing is actually minhag. But I don't know enough about it...
AK--
ReplyDeleteI think that Knitter's point was merely that one can be yotzei on kiddush without drinking (though it would seem to be dispreferred ab initio)--not making any broader point about the listener talking between borei peri ha-gefen and her or his own drinking. That said, the point about the mekadesh not needing to drink is contested, and the Shulhan Arukh says that it is "appropriate to be concerned" for the stringent view that the mekadesh must make the kiddush (OH 271:14).
Also, while one should not speak between the berakha and the drinking of the wine (or bread, or any other sustenance), one is yotzei post facto if the words were relevant to the wine (OH 167:6). Indeed, remaking the berakha in this case would be a veritable berakha le-vatala.