Showing posts with label Marc Angel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marc Angel. Show all posts

Friday, May 15, 2020

Opuscula

Extremely unique
And other misuse
Of the language

Rabbi Marc Angel (right) of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals recently blogged about superlatives, e.g., “strict,” “strictly” or “strictest.”

He also peripherally touched on “levels” of kashrut.

What he chose not to mention — perhaps deliberately and wisely — is the difference between Ashkenazi kashrut and Sefardi kashrut, a/k/a Bet Yosef or Halak, both for products and food preparation.

The rabbi also ignored the word “unique.”

Unlike “kosher” which may be modified with a superlative, e.g., “glatt” or “strictly,” unique is one of only a handful of words that stand alone: something either is, or it is not, unique.

 

Sampling of kosher labels from https://tinyurl.com/yd7o9hk6

 

The following is from R. Marc Angel’s blog (https://tinyurl.com/ybdhty2n).

The rabbi’s writings are, in my opinion, most important, very special, extremely brilliant — and on and on as will become clear as his words, below, are read.

 

Some words get overused, misused and abused. The words become degraded so that they no longer can be taken at face value.

The word “kosher” is an example of a word that has become compromised.

The packaging on kosher foods reflects the problem. The word “kosher,” by itself, seems no longer to indicate that a product is actually kosher. Much packaging states that the product is under “strict rabbinic supervision,” or that it is “strictly kosher;” apparently, without the words “strict” or “strictly” we couldn’t trust its kashrut. Some packaging now states that the product is under the “strictest rabbinic supervision,” implying that just being “strict” or “strictly kosher” isn’t kosher enough. Only “strictest” should be trusted.

To complicate matters, we often find products that are under multiple rabbinic supervisions…as many as four or five different hashgahot per item. Does having multiple hashgahot make the product more kosher? Are those items with only one or even two hashgahot not kosher enough?

The word “kosher” has been degraded; many people apparently don’t trust the word unless it is accompanied by “strict,” “strictly” or “strictest;” or unless it is authenticated by multiple hashgahot. This may be the fault of manufacturers, or of kashrut agencies, or of consumers…but the result is to downgrade the word “kosher” and to confuse the public.

The word “major” is another example of a compromised word.

We receive notices from various congregations and organizations announcing lectures, shiurim, and a variety of programs. Apparently, it is felt that just announcing the topic is inadequate to gain people’s attention. So we are told that the upcoming lecture/shiur/program is “important.” But since everything seems to be “important” these days, the announcements inform us that the upcoming event is “special.” Recently, I’ve begun receiving notices for upcoming lectures/shiurim that are “major.” But if these lectures/shiurim are “major,” does that imply that they are more significant than if they were just “special” or “important?” And does that imply that all “non-major” lectures, shiurim/programs are “minor?”  When hyping events as “major,” the result is to downgrade all other “non-major” events…and ultimately to downgrade “major” itself.

Another phrase that has been popping up is “extremely brilliant.” It seems that just being smart, intelligent or even brilliant is no longer enough; one needs to be “extremely brilliant.” Yet, if so many people are upgraded to being “extremely brilliant,” then the phrase loses its significance. If you really want to stand out, you’ll need to find a phrase that goes higher than “extremely brilliant.” But then, many others will adopt that new phrase too, in a never-ending effort to outdo others. The more hyperbole we use, the less the words really mean.

Wouldn’t it be nice if people used words carefully, without need for hyperbole? It would be a very strictly, major, and extremely brilliant thing to do!

 

R. Angle didn’t mention it — perhaps for “shalom biet” amongst us — but we tend to apply superlative labels — and sometimes derogatory labels — to other Jews who are “not like us.” Hebrew’s חילוני and חרדי are relatively harmless words, as are orthodox, conservative, reform, etc., with initial capitals or not. But add “extreme” to any of those categories, or “Super Jew” to refer to the religiously orthodox residents of Bnai Brak or Mea Sherim and suddenly the words may take on pejorative meaning. “Black Hat” is, by itself, simply descriptive.

 

Kosher supervision = Big Business

As R. Angel noted, there are food products with multiple hecksures – kosher certification symbols. The image above is just a sampling!

The plethora of companies offering to certify something — food, appliances, utensils, clothing (שעטנז) and who knows what else — each competing with the others for the same currency. (Israel now has competition for the chief rabbinate that had, until recently, a strangle hold on on kashrut supervision in Israel. That did not prevent others acceptable-to-the-chief rabbis from setting up their own labels, usually bdatz. )

In the end, it comes down to who do you — or your father or mother or rabbi — trust?

Glatt, smatt — as long as it’s Bet Yosef.

 

 

עינים להם ולא יראו * אזנים להם ולא יאזנו

PLAGIARISM is the act of appropriating the literary composition of another, or parts or passages of his writings, or the ideas or language of the same, and passing them off as the product of one’s own mind.

Truth is an absolute defense to defamation. Defamation is a false statement of fact. If the statement was accurate, then by definition it wasn’t defamatory.

Web sites (URLs) beginning https://tinyurl.com/ are generated by the free Tiny URL utility and reduce lengthy URLs to manageable size.

 

Comment on Extremely unique

insert r. marc angle.jpg
Rabbi Marc Angel (right) of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals recently blogged about superlatives, e.g., “strict,” “strictly” or “strictest.”

He also peripherally touched on “levels” of kashrut.

What he chose not to mention — perhaps deliberately and wisely — is the difference between Ashkenazi kashrut and Sefardi kashrut, a/k/a Bet Yosef or Halak, both for products and food preparation.

The rabbi also ignored the word “unique.”

Unlike “kosher” which may be modified with a superlative, e.g., “glatt” or “strictly,” unique is one of only a handful of words that stand alone: something either is, or it is not, unique.

 

insert kosher labels.jpg

Sampling of kosher labels from https://tinyurl.com/yd7o9hk6

 

The following is from R. Marc Angel’s blog (https://tinyurl.com/ybdhty2n).

The rabbi’s writings are, in my opinion, most important, very special, extremely brilliant — and on and on as will become clear as his words, below, are read.

 

Some words get overused, misused and abused. The words become degraded so that they no longer can be taken at face value.

The word “kosher” is an example of a word that has become compromised.

The packaging on kosher foods reflects the problem. The word “kosher,” by itself, seems no longer to indicate that a product is actually kosher. Much packaging states that the product is under “strict rabbinic supervision,” or that it is “strictly kosher;” apparently, without the words “strict” or “strictly” we couldn’t trust its kashrut. Some packaging now states that the product is under the “strictest rabbinic supervision,” implying that just being “strict” or “strictly kosher” isn’t kosher enough. Only “strictest” should be trusted.

To complicate matters, we often find products that are under multiple rabbinic supervisions…as many as four or five different hashgahot per item. Does having multiple hashgahot make the product more kosher? Are those items with only one or even two hashgahot not kosher enough?

The word “kosher” has been degraded; many people apparently don’t trust the word unless it is accompanied by “strict,” “strictly” or “strictest;” or unless it is authenticated by multiple hashgahot. This may be the fault of manufacturers, or of kashrut agencies, or of consumers…but the result is to downgrade the word “kosher” and to confuse the public.

The word “major” is another example of a compromised word.

We receive notices from various congregations and organizations announcing lectures, shiurim, and a variety of programs. Apparently, it is felt that just announcing the topic is inadequate to gain people’s attention. So we are told that the upcoming lecture/shiur/program is “important.” But since everything seems to be “important” these days, the announcements inform us that the upcoming event is “special.” Recently, I’ve begun receiving notices for upcoming lectures/shiurim that are “major.” But if these lectures/shiurim are “major,” does that imply that they are more significant than if they were just “special” or “important?” And does that imply that all “non-major” lectures, shiurim/programs are “minor?”  When hyping events as “major,” the result is to downgrade all other “non-major” events…and ultimately to downgrade “major” itself.

Another phrase that has been popping up is “extremely brilliant.” It seems that just being smart, intelligent or even brilliant is no longer enough; one needs to be “extremely brilliant.” Yet, if so many people are upgraded to being “extremely brilliant,” then the phrase loses its significance. If you really want to stand out, you’ll need to find a phrase that goes higher than “extremely brilliant.” But then, many others will adopt that new phrase too, in a never-ending effort to outdo others. The more hyperbole we use, the less the words really mean.

Wouldn’t it be nice if people used words carefully, without need for hyperbole? It would be a very strictly, major, and extremely brilliant thing to do!

 

R. Angle didn’t mention it — perhaps for “shalom biet” amongst us — but we tend to apply superlative labels — and sometimes derogatory labels — to other Jews who are “not like us.” Hebrew’s חילוני and חרדי are relatively harmless words, as are orthodox, conservative, reform, etc., with initial capitals or not. But add “extreme” to any of those categories, or “Super Jew” to refer to the religiously orthodox residents of Bnai Brak or Mea Sherim and suddenly the words may take on pejorative meaning. “Black Hat” is, by itself, simply descriptive.

 

Kosher supervision = Big Business

As R. Angel noted, there are food products with multiple hecksures – kosher certification symbols. The image above is just a sampling!

The plethora of companies offering to certify something — food, appliances, utensils, clothing (שעטנז) and who knows what else — each competing with the others for the same currency. (Israel now has competition for the chief rabbinate that had, until recently, a strangle hold on on kashrut supervision in Israel. That did not prevent others acceptable-to-the-chief rabbis from setting up their own labels, usually bdatz.

In the end, it comes down to who do you — or your father or mother or rabbi — trust?

Glatt, smatt — as long as it’s Bet Yosef.

 

 

עינים להם ולא יראו * אזנים להם ולא יאזנו

PLAGIARISM is the act of appropriating the literary composition of another, or parts or passages of his writings, or the ideas or language of the same, and passing them off as the product of one’s own mind.

Truth is an absolute defense to defamation. Defamation is a false statement of fact. If the statement was accurate, then by definition it wasn’t defamatory.

Web sites (URLs) beginning https://tinyurl.com/ are generated by the free Tiny URL utility and reduce lengthy URLs to manageable size.

 

Comment on Extremely unique

Sunday, April 6, 2014

Opuscula

Listener comprehension
Story teller's obligation

 

R. Marc Angle, in Jewish Ideals for Friday, April 4 2014 notes, almost in passing, that Famously, the Hagadah includes instructions on dealing with children with different aptitudes and interests. The challenge is to feel and transmit the vast group Exodus experience of antiquity on an individual level.

As a former newspaper reporter and editor, and later as a technical writer, I know, possibly better than most, that it is the obligation of the person presenting information to make it understandable to the person receiving the information.

It is not the obligation of the reader/listener to "interrupt" what was written/said.

Not all of us are comfortable with the Hagadah's Hebrew with bits of Aramaic to add flavor (or a gnashing of the teeth), so we depend on translations into a language most of us understand. But maybe not.

For a brief look at the Hagadah's linguistic history read Why is the Hagadah written in Hebrew?

Certainly some of the translations are "over the heads" of some of the younger participants at the seder. (Unfortunately, given the level of English comprehension in the U.S., the words may be beyond the capabilities of some "educated" adults as well as the children.)

The Hagadah's raison d'etre is to retell the story of our exodus from Egypt. Note I wrote, most deliberately, our exodus. The Hagadah tells us early on that עבדים היינו במצרים Slaves we were in Egypt. Every good story teller knows if the audience fails to comprehend the story's meaning, the audience's time has been wasted and the story teller's effort was simply wasted energy.

Rather than racing through the Hagadah as most of us do, maybe it would be wise to set some rules for the reading before we ask ?מה משתנה. Maybe set some time for questions and comments at certain points in the evening. Alternatively, the host might prepare some age-appropriate questions.

Back to R. Angel's article.

It begins with R. Angel quoting from Nobel Prize winning Sephardic author, Elias Canetti's book "Crowds and Power." Canetti wrote of the tremendous diversity among Jews. He theorizes: “One is driven to ask in what respect these people remain Jews; what makes them into Jews; what is the ultimate nature of the bond they feel when they say "I am a Jew"....This bond...is the Exodus from Egypt.” Canetti suggests that the Israelites’ formative experience as a vast crowd leaving Egypt is the key to understanding the nature of Jewish peoplehood. As long as Jews—however different they are from each other—share historical memories of the Exodus from Egypt, they continue to identify as members of one people. We are bound together by the shared experience of redemption.

While agreeing with Canetti, R. Angel notes that Yet, the Hagadah does not focus only on the “vast crowd” experience, but conscientiously strives to personalize the story to the level of each individual. “In every generation one must see him/herself as though he/she personally had come forth from Egypt.” The Hagadah tells stories about particular lessons taught by individual rabbis. It teaches that we have not fulfilled our obligation unless each of us speaks of Pessah, Matsah and Maror.

At the seder table we may be a "large crowd" but we still are individually obliged - men and women alike - to recall why we were redeemed both individually and collectively.

 

By the way, why is the Hallel split up into two sections during the seder?

In his commentary Zevach Pesach on the Hagadah, the great Spanish scholar Don Isaac Abarbanel (1437–1508) answers this question. To read Hakham Abarbanel's answer visit Why do we divide the Hallel into two at the Passover Seder?

Sunday, February 23, 2014

How does it look
In your synagogue?

Rabbi Marc D. Angel, in his start-of-the-week email, writes about the beauty of the Sanctuary and then asks:

What would happen, though, if upon entering the sanctuary the worshiper found papers strewn on the floor or other litter scattered about randomly? What impression would be made if the priests arrived late for the service, or if they chatted and joked with each other? What if the High Priest was busy reading a book rather than attending to the ceremonies of the sanctuary? What if the others who attended the sanctuary were busy socializing rather than focusing on the service?

In synagogues that are used exclusively as synagogues, order usually prevails.

That doesn't mean you won't find someone reading something other than a sedur or humash, but you won't normally find books and flyers scattered on tables and chairs.

But when the synagogue also is a bet midrash - a study hall - then as Star Trek's Hikaru Sulu (George Takei)would say, "Oh my."

I usually unlock the door to the netz (sunrise) minyan where I don tallit and tefillin.

I know that when I flip on the lights I'll be greeted by books of various types - talmuds, humashim, musar - scattered on many, if not all, tables.

No one, it seems, knows how to return a book to its place.

Where there are no books, very often tallit/tefillin bags are left on the tables. That's not so bad IF the owners show up for the minyan. Since the synagogue now has a late minyan, it would be nice of the folks from either minyan would find a place for their gear other than on the shared tables. We don't buy seats so there is no proprietary ownership; first come, first served or, alternatively, "you snooze, you loose."

Most of the congregants are Americans of Mizrahi (Egyptian, Syrian, Iraqi) descent; a few are ex-pat Israelis who did time in the IDF. Likewise, most have gone from Mommy to Wife and - apparently - never learned to pick up after themselves. I'm not sure this behavior is limited to Mizrahi males or even males who missed out on spending time with the military - Israel, U.S., or otherwise.

(Yes, Virginia, I did play at being military, serving in the USAF back as America "transitioned" from the "police action" in Korea to "military advisory groups" in Vietnam, and yes, Virginia, I DO return books I use to their place.)

R. Angel goes on to note that:

"The physical sanctuary was still beautiful. The priestly robes were still glorious. But somehow, the sense of holiness would be dramatically missing. What makes holiness is not merely the physical structure or priestly garments or technical ceremony: holiness is evoked by the spirit of reverence which people bring to the sanctuary. If the ingredient of holiness is missing from the participants in the service, then the physical beauty and splendor become empty shells. The body may be intact, but the soul is missing.

"The Mishkan and the later Temples in Jerusalem set the model for Jewish worship. The physical structures and accouterments were splendid; and the spiritual content of the service was to be conducted with proper devotion. When the spirit of holiness was absent among the priests and among the people, the Divine Presence itself was driven from the Temple.

"The Shulhan Arukh, the classic code of Jewish law, has a special section on the sanctity of the synagogue (Orah Hayyim 151). The laws underscore the separateness and specialness of this sacred structure. It is forbidden to act in a light-headed fashion in synagogues. Silly laughter, extraneous conversation, eating and drinking are forbidden in these holy places. If one finds people talking and joking, one feels that the holiness of the synagogue has been defiled. (Emphasis mine)

"The sanctity of synagogues is not only exemplified by the rules governing behavior within them; the physical structure must be respected. The Shulhan Arukh notes that it is customary to keep synagogues clean and to light candles in them as a sign of honor. If one enters a synagogue and sees papers, books and prayer shawls strewn around, one feels that the sanctuary has been diminished."

When it comes to talking, no one group seems to have a franchise. I'm told Ashkenazim talk as much as - perhaps more - than Sefardim and Mizrachim. I left a congregation partly because of the constant chatter during services. (Several of the talkers followed me to my new minyan and even the rabbi has been known to chat with members during korbanote.)

After all, synagogue is a social club, right?

I encourage my friends who want to chat to take the conversations outside (as long as we have 10 for kadish). It's OK is someone has pressing business that cannot wait until after Aleynu - some folks have to be at work early and consequently cannot hang around to the end.

If anyone wants to turn the synagogue into a social club, let them come before or after services.

As for this scrivener, when I open the door in the morning, I grab a copy of Rambam's Mishneh Torah (I'm on the second of five books now) - read until time for korbanote and just before donning tallit and tefillin, I put the book back in its place on the shelf. I really do "practice what I preach."

Change you passwords frequently.

Monday, October 7, 2013

Judaism and the 3 bears

Rephrase, please

Every week, the The Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals sends out an email querying its members with a “Question of the week.”

QUESTION OF THE WEEK: Recent polls have indicated that 10% of American Jews identify as Orthodox. About 20% identify as Jewish without religion! When 90% of American Jews are not Orthodox, Orthodoxy seems to be becoming more insular and less interested in connecting with other Jews. Should Orthodox Jews engage more creatively and more often with non-Orthodox Jews, or should we build higher walls around ourselves to protect us from negative religious influences?

I have a problem with the question, especially as it comes from Sefardi rabbi Marc Angel.

The problem is the word “Orthodox” and variations of same.

“Orthodox” is, first and foremost, a European concept. It is foreign to Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews. The label is an effective barrier – a מחיצה - where there should be no barrier.

In fact, the question suggests it own answer when it asks: Should Orthodox Jews engage more creatively and more often with non-Orthodox Jews, or should we build higher walls around ourselves to protect us from negative religious influences?

I see far, far too many Jews who reject out of hand any Jew who is “not like me.” Makes no difference if the Jew is (alphabetically) Conservative, Orthodox, or Reform (and flavors in between) or non-observant, whether the Jew is Ashkenazi, Sephardi/Mizrahi, or a blend; ditto for both “accident-of-birth” Jews and converts, “righteous” or otherwise. The “you’re not like me” malady seems less prevalent in Israel – “less” albeit not “non-existent” – than in the U.S.

In general - and remember, “all generalities are lies” - Sephardi/Mizrahi Jews look at other Jews as (a) less observant than, (b) more observant than, or (c) observant like me. The level of observance is dependent on the perception and level of observance of the person making the observation. In other words, how observant I am depends on your level of observance – and, to a lesser extent, your narrow mindedness.

A few quick words on “narrow mindedness.”

The late Hakham R. Ovadia Yosef (נפטר יום ב' חשון תשע''ד) wrote many books and ruled on many things based on his Iraqi heritage and his education. Those who followed him, and there were many, accepted his authority without looking right or left.

I have a book in my library, דברי שלום ואמת, the sole purpose of which is to explain that there are other valid traditions that are equally correct.

Someone in the Shas camp would, for example, tell a woman that she must say the blessing over the Shabat candles before lighting them while the North African – and possibly others – tradition is to light the candles, cover the eyes, then recite the blessing. A minor point, perhaps, but one that caused grief in the family.

There was a time when I was guilty of “looking down” at others who were not like me. The hasid who tucks his trousers into his socks and insists on wearing a fur hap in the hottest weather; the (classical) Reform lady rabbi who absolutely forbids kippa and tallit in her synagogue, and the Jew who drove to shul on Shabat.

I’m older – much older, as it happens – and, thanks to my late father-in-law אליהו בן זהרה לחיאני ע''ה, hopefully much wiser. I learned from him that a Jew is a Jew is a Jew, regardless of the person’s “take” on Judaism.

My father-in-law was not a rabbi. He was not a particularly learned man, at least as far as formal book and yeshiva learning. But he was truly a hakham when it came to people, Jews and non-Jews alike.(He came from Morocco where he daily dealt with Moroccan Jews, Moroccan Muslims, and French Jews and non-Jews.) Lest anyone think Morocco was a place sans hakhamim, there were a number of Moroccan communities with yeshivot of note and it was home to more than a few world renowned rabbinical families; my father-in-law worked with one such family.

I make minyan with a “mixed” congregation. We have Syrians, Egyptians, several Ashkenazim, at least one Turk, and a Moroccan or two. The shul’s sedur is, I think, Ben Ish Hai, but you’ll see other sidurim on the tables (including the Moroccan וזרח השמש and אבותינו). Some were tzit-tzit outside, some not; some have payot, others do not; some are clean shaven all year round, some are bearded from time to time while others’ faces are hirsute all year round. I have never heard anyone even suggest that “that” person is less of a Jew that the speaker.

That’s not to say that every Jew has to be every other Jew’s best friend forever – BFF to the texters – but it is to say that the Jews in my circle are tolerant of Jews with a different perspective on the religion. There is a Chabad center down the street. It starts on Rebbe time – that is, much later than our HaNetz start time. It occasionally lacks one or two to make a minyan, so the rabbi sends a runner to us to “borrow” however many it takes to fill out the minyan.

I am fortunate to live in an area (Hollywood FL) that has an abundance of congregations; many are of the “more observant” category. People float from minyan to minyan. Late for ours? Go to the other Ben Ish Hai shul or the Moroccan synagogue or for a different flavor, try the large Ashkenazi synagogue or the small Ashkenazi storefront shul. Go a little father and there are “non-traditional” congregations.

I’m not a Pollyanna; there are a couple of classes of Jews I heartily dislike; one consists of those who drop their children off at Sunday school – or send them to a Hebrew day or afternoon school – and can’t bother to make minyan; great example, people. The other class is composed of those aliyah managers who ignore recently bar mitzvahed boys (or bat mitzvahed girls in non-traditional congregations). The youngsters soon learn that while everyone tells them their presence is important, it’s not important enough to give them the honors they deserve as children of the commandments, their obligations and benefits. דו פנים doesn’t work for me. (“My” congregation gives honors by The List; everyone eligible for an honor gets an honor in his turn, from the 13-plus a day to the oldest geezer.)

ADVERTISEMENT: Congregation Nahar Shalom (Dania beach/Hollywood FL) needs a cohen. We have several levi’m but no permanent cohen. While every Jew is welcome to Nahar Slalom’s HaNetz minyan, cohanim are especially welcome.

The bottom line for a Jew should be that a Jew is a Jew is a Jew – perhaps less observant, perhaps more observant, or just observant like me.

 


הריני מקבל עלי מצוה עשה של ואהבת לרעך כמוך, והריני אוהב כל אחד מבני ישראל כנפשי ומאודי