As I was re-reading a novella by one of my favorite writers, this paragraph caught my sight:
I bowed with my helmet on, and with the gloved fist I touched the coat of mail on my breast. I didn’t introduce myself. I had the right not to. The shield hanging by my side, turned back to front, was a clear sign that I wished to preserve my incognito. The knightly customs had by then assumed the character of commonly accepted norm. I didn’t think it a healthy development, but then the knights’ customs grew odder, not to say idiotic, by the day.
I suppose some things never change.
What do I like about Sapkowski, you ask? His sense of humor. For instance:
I bet my head that in Ireland Christianity will be a passing fashion. We Irish, we do not buy this hard, inflexible, Roman fanaticism. We are too sober-headed for that, too simple-hearted. Our Ireland is the fore-post of the West, it’s the Last Shore. Beyond, not far off, are the Old Lands: Hy Brasil, Ys, Mainistir Leitreach, Beag-Arainn. It is they, not the Cross, not the Latin liturgy, that rule people’s minds. It was so ages ago and it’s so today. Besides, we Irish are a tolerant people. Everybody believes what he wants. I heard that around the world different factions of Christians are already at each other’s throats. In Ireland it’s impossible. I can imagine everything, but not that Ulster, say, might be a scene of religious scuffles.
The best of all are those people that refuse to shave all 49 days of the Omer to be acording to the shita of the Arizal and Kabballah, and then they shave Erev Shavuos with a “leshem yichud” beforehand.
For those of you whose spirits have been sombered up by the seriousness of the previous post, a little sphera-friendly entertainment:
On a related topic, does chochmas chitzoinius even refer to science, or merely to stuff like this?
(I was thinking of finding a picture appropriate to the topic of machloikes, but then thought that nothing would fit better than this video, which I like very much.)
As I was reading the discussion, I thought this (not necessarily regarding any side of the discussion):
It seems to me that sometimes our American sensitivity and tendency to make peace and accommodate everyone’s opinion (commendable though this tendency may be) gets in a way of understanding the machloikes. Back in the day, people didn’t have a problem saying “I disagree.” Not “I am right on some level, you are right on another level”, but “I am right, and you are wrong.” Doesn’t mean they didn’t respect the other side’s opinion (depending on the nature of machloikes, of course), but they still thought it to be wrong.
* * *
[Beginning of a long digression — feel free to skip to the next asterisks]
There is a second level of justification — from spiritual perspective. Obviously, in Judaism we have the statement that “eilu v’eilu dvorim Elokim chayim” (“these and these are words of the living G-d” — regarding the dispute between Shammai and Hillel, but more abstractly regarding most other disputes). What is sometimes overlooked, as my rabbi once told me, is that Shammai and Hillel themselves still believed the other party to be wrong. More importantly (for us), we follow only one of their specific opinions for Halacha purposes. And in many cases when we say that a certain halachic opinion is for this community, while other opinion is for another, it’s only due to the circumstances of us being in golus, as Rambam explains in the introduction to Mishnei Torah.
On the other hand, in many cases, of course, this is not true. We accommodate for multiple opinions in our psak din, and indeed, this is the beauty of Torah both from spiritual/metaphysical and sociological point of view (I can hear teeth grinding). From the latter perspective, says Reb Shlomo Yaffe, accommodation of multiple opinions in the final ruling (since all of them are right, despite sometimes obvious disagreement and even mutual exclusivity), the “bottom line” of Jewish law tends towards the middle. On the other hand, in case of, lehavdil, X-ity and Islam, with passage of time these religions acted like a centrifuge, pushing their choices of the ultimate interpretation of their texts towards the outside, the extreme.
Of course, we, as religious Jews, don’t care so much about sociology (this was just an interesting point explaining the difference between Abrahamic religions — the principle of “eilu v’eilu” vs. “my way or the highway”). From philosophical point of view, the principle of “eilu v’eilu” becomes interesting, because it reveals fully the unlimited and undefined nature of G-dliness, from which Torah stems.
I had a conversation once with an apikoires, who asked me if G-d can create a square circle (a more intelligent way to put the question with the stone). I told him that according to the school of chakirah, He cannot — but it’s a limitation not on G-d, but on our reality, or, as Rabbi Gottlieb put it, one our language (i.e., our logic). “When you say square circle, I hear words, but no meaning enters my mind. So, you’re asking me, can G-d create _____, and there is nothing in the blank. You did not ask any question.” Or, to put it differently, G-d could create a square circle, but it would be incompatible with our reality (it’s a slightly different statement from Rabbi Gottlieb’s, but I’ll just lump them in one category for now).
On the other hand, I said, the school of mysticism teaches that G-d indeed can create a square circle and even make it compatible with our reality. In fact, in our history, such things have happened (if you are lazy to read the whole post, in the case of Menoira oil both burning and not burning at the same time, or in the case of Aron Koidesh not taking any space). Now, how the square circle would look to us is a different story. Perhaps it would look like a hologram or, more simply, like a Necker cube, only not on the level of illusion or perceptual ambiguity, but in reality.
“This is interesting,” the apikoires said. “But this means that G-d could tell you to do X and not to do X at the same time. What would you do then?” He thought he had me, but he made a trap for himself. In fact, I explained, every law that G-d gave us is like this. Torah derives from G-dliness, which is multidimensional (infinitely-dimensional, even, one might say). It is the job of our authorities, then, to bring down a specific dimension of each law to this world — and this is where the disagreement stems from, when one authority’s spiritual level is different from that of the other, and as a result, they disagree on the practical “interpretation” of the law, since the particular dimension of the law that one brings down is different from that of another authority.
In practice, sometimes we rule in favor of one opinion, and sometimes the other (because only one opinion may be appropriate for this world, for this particular place and this particular time), but sometimes we accommodate for multiple opinions. An example I gave is that of dipping chalah in soup on Shabbos. On Shabbos, a Jew is not allowed to cook. Skipping many details, this means he is not allowed to put something defined legally as uncooked into a hot soup still in the first or second vessel of cooking. What about challah? Is baking the same as cooking? If it is, then he is allowed to dip challah in that soup (since something already cooked cannot be further cooked). If it’s not, then he is not allowed to dip challah in the soup (since that would be tantamount to cooking the challah). There is a disagreement in opinions.
We rule that lehatchilo one should not dip challah in the soup, but b’diyavad, if someone already dipped the challah (e.g., having not paid attention), one is allowed to eat it. Thus, in our ruling we accommodate for both opinions, despite the fact that they are opposite and mutually exclusive.
Furthermore, from mystical perspective, we learn that even those opinions that were presented in Gemara and were clearly rejected as unsupported by our tradition, are still true on some spiritual level. In fact, they are even higher (from the point of view of gilui) than the opinions that were accepted — and this is why they were rejected, being incompatible with this lowly world (of course, b’etzem, the accepted opinions are higher, since they allow for dira b’tachtoinim). See this beautiful chapter (“Co-existence of Contradictory Truths”) from the Gutnick edition of Rambam’s 9th and 10th principles (with commentaries ranging from classical to those of the Lubavitcher Rebbe) for further discussion on the topic of the spiritual origin of different opinions and the reasons for their inclusion in Gemara (even those that were rejected).
[End of the long digression]
* * *
I think despite all of the above, however, we still overlook the other, non-accomodating side of the machloikes. Yes, sometimes we rule in favor of both parties. And sometimes we say that this is right for us, and this is right for them. But sometimes we rule in favor of only one opinion! Sometimes we say that only one opinion is more appropriate for everyone.
Or, more specifically, sometimes we follow a particular shitta, and even though we recognize the other shitta as beautiful, and part of Torah, and “words of the living G-d”, and shining brightly on some high spiritual level — but here, in this world, where we are trying to bring Mashiach, this shitta is less appropriate than the one we accept. Of course, people who hold according to that shitta may think the same about ours. And we think they are wrong in practice (or at least less right than we are), and they think we are wrong. And guess what? There is nothing wrong with thinking someone is wrong. There is not always a need to sweeten the pill.
As an aside, it saddens me that most of my readers are not true believers. Out of 17 answers to my question (“Can G-d learn something new?”) only 4 gave the correct answer (“Yes!”). That’s less than 25%.
Please answer the new poll. Let’s see how many people pick the right answer now.
In my opinion, the worlds of Lithuanian and Chagas Jewry have moved closer and closer together to the point where the only thing separating them is their clothes and their accents. And even then, not so much. Witness the increased veneration for the Godol's every breath, and the decreasing enrollment at chassidish Yeshivas, with the corresponding increase in Litvisher places of learning.
I disagree completely. As this video will show, there is no semblance whatsoever between the representatives of two worlds:
I hope each of you saw it clearly. I am only sorry the video stopped, and we were not zoiche to hearing the continuation of this brilliant conversation.
In the post in which I quoted a passage about Patrick O’Brian’s Stephen Maturin performing a surgery on himself, a couple things should have caught your attention: 1) Dr. Maturin inquired whether the woman whom he asked Jack Aubrey to visit was wearing black, and 2) when he declined the offer of another doctor, he said: “No, sir. I do this with my own hand. If it could undertake the one task, it must undertake the other: that is but justice.”
Putting the two things together, one realizes where Maturin got his wound — at a duel over a woman! (And he was wondering whether she was mourning over the other fellow by wearing black — which she wasn’t.) As any red-blooded male, I like to read about duels (although I prefer swords to pistols), so here it is:
This Shabbos we bless the upcoming month of Iyar. The Rebbe says in one of the sichos that Iyar is holier than Nissan. Don’t forget to read the seifer Tehillim before davening on Shabbos. (This means getting up extra early. And for those of us not fortunate to be davening in nusach Arizal minyonim on Shabbos — extra-extra early.)
Very good post about chillul Hashem. I wish I was as holy as the Rebbe’s melamed in cheider to walk our whenever something bad was spoken about other Jews. But I’ve seen the effects of chillul Hashem firsthand — it affected me, my friends (and former friends), and my family.
I have already expressed my frustration on the subject. Long gone are the times when Frierdiker Rebbe wrote in a letter that for a talmid chochom it is inappropriate to walk on the street, eating sunflower seeds. Today everyone dresses in a suit and wears a hat, since — hey, we are Jews! We are not supposed to dress casually, like goyim. And yet we find, strangely enough, that the people who dress in jeans and are lenient on half their mitzvos behave like mentchen, while those that are not eating strawberries for kashrus concerns and make sure their cereal is pas Yisroel behave like beheimas.
Be machmir on gebrochts in you behavior first. You are here to make the world G-dly.
(And, as anyone reading my blog can see, I am all for chumras and hiddurim. One of the comments on that post said something like: “Ironically, one of these people would look at MO woman in pants and think: ‘What a shame!’” Well, it is ironic. He should be looking at himself first. But the fact that this woman is wearing pants is a shame.)
Reb Aaron Yaffe, the shochet, related the following story:
When I was younger I worked as a melamed in a small village, and as shochet for the neighboring towns. When we heard that the Tzemach Tzedek would not only be passing through our village, but would also be staying for several days, we hurried to make the proper preparations for his visit. When the Rebbe arrived, I was supposed to slaughter a chicken for his meal. Before I did so, however, I went to show him my chalef (shechita knife) before proceeding. The Rebbe approved, and indeed ate the meat I provided during his entire stay in our town. The Tzemach Tzedek received all who wished to speak to him in private, and in the course of events, it became my turn for yechidus.
"What is your request?" the Rebbe asked when I entered his room.
"I have a halachik question that troubles me," I began. "I am disturbed by all the restrictions instituted relatively late in our history, on things that previous generations of rabbis considered permissible. Does this mean, G-d forbid, that earlier generations of Jews were eating food that was not kosher? How is this possible?" I said.
"Do you understand what the words assur and muttar mean?" asked the Tzemach Tzedek. "Assur literally means 'bound up,' 'restrained' by the klipos, or husks of the sitra achra, the forces of evil. As is explained in the Tanya, these things cannot be elevated and transformed into holiness, even if they are eaten with the proper thoughts and intentions. Muttar, on the other hand, literally means 'untied' or 'loose,' indicating those things that it is possible to elevate and refine if we eat them with the proper intentions and for the sake of heaven.
"During earlier generations, when souls came from a much higher source, our forefathers had the spiritual strength and power to elevate many things that were originally considered permissible. With the passage of time and the diminution of our spirituality, our Rabbis have forbidden many things that were previously allowed. Our souls are inferior to those that were sent down before us, and it is just not in our power to turn these things into holiness."
Another interesting thing I heard recently: in Chabad, we don’t say a brocho on tefillin shel roish, because (al pi inyonim pnimi’im*) it is too holy. Saying a brocho means that we are drawing down into this world the G-dly Light necessary for the union of G-d and the physical matter with which a mitzva is performed. But if the Light is too high for us to draw down into this world, saying a brocho would be in vain.
That is also one of the the reasons why during the seider we say “Boruch ha’makom” without the Eibeshter’s name.
A friend of mine on the Facebook says: “My employer put in new carpets and installed auto flush toilets in the bathrooms. We still have free soda. Does this mean that recession is over?”
His friend responds: “No... Actually, it means that the recession is worse. Notice that the automated toilets flush directly into the input-pipe of the free soda machine.”
That, my friends, is what most liberal reforms are all about.
We find in Torah that the first one to call Jews a nation was the Pharaoh: “Behold, the people of the children of Israel are more numerous and stronger than we are” (Shmois 1:9). G-d is the second to call Jews a nation, while talking to Moshe Rabbeinu, and later, in the context of giving Jews Torah.
I’ve heard this story on the second day of Yom Tov (Wed.) from one of the rabbis in Brooklyn:
Every year, chassidim would wish the Rebbe that “the Rebbe should be alive next year”. To which he would respond: “gam atoh” (“you too”). One year, a chossid came to the Rebbe and wished/asked him that “the Rebbe should reveal himself”. Meaning, of course, that the Rebbe should reveal himself as [who he is]. To which the Rebbe responded: “gam atoh”.
This can be explained as follows. Every person has the deepest potential of who he is in the essence. The chossid wished the Rebbe that he reveals this deepest potential and his true and deepest role. While the Rebbe, in his turn, wished the chossid that he does the same, regarding himself.
Those of understanding will understand.
So, what is the deepest essence of every Jew? In Tanya we learn that every Jew is “cheilek elokah mi’ma’al mamosh” — a part of G-dliness Above literally.
Another one, more accessible to the average IQ, and going to the core of the problem with liberalism:
Now, one mistake in the above videos is the assumptions that liberals 1) care about numbers, 2) know what the numbers mean, 3) have any semblance of distinguishing the reality from a fantasy.
The full speech from the second video (emphasis mine):
RepPaulRyan—March 21, 2010 — Madam speaker, there is a lot wrong with this bill.
We know the problems with its cost. We know it doesnt really reduce the deficit. We know that it increases health care premiums. The CBO has given us all of this information and its clear that what we have is a bill chock full of gimmicks and hidden mandates.
So I’m not going to get into all of that again.
But what I will ask is this: why has this decision become so personal to our constituents? Why are so many people swarming the Capitol over this? Why have we received 100,000 calls an hour from all over the country?
It is because health care affects every one of us. And yet, here we are, debating whether the government should have a bigger role in making those personal decisions.
So make no mistake about it. Were not just here to pass a healthcare bill. We are being asked to make a choice about the future path of this country.
The speakers to my left are correct: this is history. Today marks a major turning point in American history. This is really not a debate about prices, coverage, or choosing doctors.
This is ultimately about what kind of country we are going to be in the 21st century.
America is not just a nationality its not just a mass of land from Hawaii to Maine, from Wisconsin to Florida. America is an idea. Its the most pro-human idea ever designed by mankind.
Our founders got it right, when they wrote in the Declaration of Independence that our rights come from nature and nature's God — not from government.
Should we now subscribe to an ideology where government creates rights, is solely responsible for delivering these artificial rights, and then systematically rations these rights?
Do we believe that the goal of government is to promote equal opportunity for all Americans to make the most of their lives — or do we now believe that government’s role is to equalize the results of peoples lives?
The philosophy advanced on the floor by the Majority today is so paternalistic, and so arrogant. It’s condescending. And it tramples upon the principles that have made America so exceptional.
My friends, we are fast approaching a tipping point where more Americans depend on the federal government than on themselves for their livelihoods — a point where we, the American people, trade in our commitment and our concern for our individual liberties in exchange for government benefits and dependencies.
More to the point, Madam Speaker, we have seen this movie before, and we know how it ends. The European social welfare state promoted by this legislation is not sustainable.
This is not who we are and it is not who we should become.
As we march toward this tipping point of dependency, we are also accelerating toward a debt crisis a debt crisis that is the result of politicians of the past making promises we simply cannot afford to keep. Déjà vu all over again.
It is unconscionable what we are leaving the next generation.
This moment may mark a temporary conclusion of the health care debate — but its place in history has not yet been decided. If this passes, the quest to reclaim the American idea is not over. The fight to reapply our founding principles is not finished, it’s just a steeper climb. And it is a climb that we will make.
On this issue — more than any other issue we have ever seen here — the American people are engaged. From our town hall meetings, to Scott Brown’s victory in Massachusetts, you have made your voices heard. And some of us are listening to you.
My colleagues, lets bring down this bill — and bring back the ideas that made this country great!
In the last years, when the health of the Rebbe [Rayatz] was far from perfect, a certain public functionary once arrived in the middle of the week, not at the regular time for yechidus, in order to speak with the Rebbe. When I entered the Rebbe [Rayatz]'s study in order to inform him of his arrival, the Rebbe stretched out his hand to put on his hat, an effort which cost him considerable exertion. I assured the Rebbe that it would not matter to that functionary if he would receive him with only a yarmulke on his head.
“But to me it does matter,” replied the Rebbe.
I think there are multiple ways of understanding this story and multiple lessons that can be drawn from it. One of which is: Hashem may be ok with you saying a brocho or davening to Him without a second head covering (He will still accept you prayers). But you shouldn’t be.
(This reminds me of a story about the Kotzker Rebbe, iirc. He always knew what his chassidim’s thoughts were, and if someone at his tish had bad thoughts, the Rebbe would scream at him. So, one time a chossid had a bad thought in the presence of the Kotzker Rebbe and immediately regretted it, anticipating being screamed at. But then he thought: “Hashem surely knows my thoughts too. And yet He seems not to mind. Why then does the Rebbe mind?” The Kotzker Rebbe answered: “Hashem can take it. I can’t.”)
This does not just apply to the hat, by the way (and also with the hat, it’s not about the “shtick”, but about what stands behind the hat). And not just to davening. Hashem is rachamim, merciful. He will tolerate all kinds of behavior. But each one of us should be disgusted with himself for taking advantage of that.
I wish everyone kosher and freilichen Peisach and that this year not only are we able to overcome our limitations, but that we use the limitations themselves for the purpose of reaching the greater depths.
The only reason Jews went into the Mitzrayim was to receive Torah. The only reason every Jewish soul descended into this world is to make Dwelling for HaKadosh Boruchu. May this task be completed now, in a happy and pleasant way!
We learn from the Haggadah that Hashem redeemed us from Egypt with his Essence (“not with an angel, not with a saraf, not with a messenger”). This was done, because in our “levushim”, our external characteristics, we have fallen — Hashem had to evoke the Essence of our soul in order to awake our true identity.
The same way we learn that Rabbi Akiva argued that each plague consisted of five sub-plagues. These five levels correspond to the four levels constituting the fabric of reality¹, plus the fifth, essential level. This, again, shows the true nature of the Exodus — the miracles performed penetrated the world to its core, softening it up for both our redemption and the giving of Torah (which would allow the union of the spiritual and the physical, heretofore not possible).
The practical lesson for us is that we have to use our essence when serving Hashem. We cannot treat being a Jew as a levush, as a role. “I am a student, I am a brother, I am a husband, I am a citizen, nu, I am also a Jew.” We cannot just use an aspect of our personality for Yiddishkeit — an angel, a saraf, a messenger. We have to use our full self, “down to its innermost depths”.
And in learning and doing mitzvos, we have to get to the deepest level — to the fifth level of Torah. Everybody knows there is parde"s: the four levels of interpretation of Torah (literal, allegorical, homiletic and mystical). Just like there are four levels of the soul (nefesh, ruach, neshama, chaya). Just like there are for worlds (Asiyah, Yetzira, Briah, Atzilus). But behind all this there is the Essence. At the core of the worlds there is G-d Himself. At the beginning of Hashem’s four-lettered Name, there is the tip of the Yud. At the core of the soul there is Yechida. And at the core of Torah there is Chassidus.
Using Chassidus we can see the Essence in everything, and we can allow ourselves to “leap over” our internal and external limitations. I am not talking about just limud ha’Chassidus, the learning of Chassidus Chabad. I am also talking about darkei ha’Chassidus — the paths of Chassidus Chabad. These paths are the roadmap to geulah, the time when the hidden fifth level will be revealed in the outer four.
Just like the ten makkos, each consisting of five levels, “softened up” the world, preparing it for the Exodus and for giving of the Torah (the union of the spiritual and the physical), the same way Chassidus Chabad, when studied and practiced by every Jew, brings closer the time of our redemption and the union of G-d with His world.
__________________ ¹ These four levels are traditionally knows as air, fire, earth and water, which the Rebbe says correspond to the electromagnetic, gravitational, strong nuclear and weak nuclear forces. The fifth level corresponds to hyulie — the aspect of reality which contains the potential for existence, out of which all reality comes out.
On the other hand, in the computer game Quest for Glory IV: The Shadows of Mordavia (my personal favorite in the series), the fifth secret element was pizza.
He had remained speechless throughout Fudge's kindly explanation that there were witches and wizards still living in secret all over the world and his reassurances that he was not to bother his head about them as the Ministry of Magic took responsibility for the whole Wizarding community and prevented the non-magical population from getting wind of them. It was, said Fudge, a difficult job that encompassed everything from regulations on responsible use of broomsticks to keeping the dragon population under control (the Prime Minister remembered clutching the desk for support at this point). Fudge had then patted the shoulder of the still-dumbstruck Prime Minister in a fatherly sort of way.
“Not to worry,” he had said, “it's odds-on you'll never see me again. I'll only bother you if there's something really serious going on our end, something that's likely to affect the Muggles — the non-magical population, I should say. Otherwise, it's live and let live. And I must say, you're taking it a lot better than your predecessor. He tried to throw me out the window, thought I was a hoax planned by the opposition.”
— HP VI
This reminded me of the Ministry of Magic in Harry Potter. Except its goal was not to protect the wizards but to protect the muggles (or so I am told).
Which brings me to my main point: [censored] “just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean that they are not really out to get you”. (You have to apply this saying inside-out in this case.)
