Sunday, December 14, 2014

HEY--STAY AWAY FROM THOSE HANUKKAH CANDLES!


These days, when I mention Rock of Ages, someone might think I’m referring to the hit Broadway musical or Hollywood film by the same name.  But long before the entertainment industry got its hands on a time-honored metaphor for God, Rock of Ages sat quietly on the page of the siddur containing the Hanukkah blessings.  It began the famous hymn Ma’oz Tzur yeshu’ati—

 

Rock of Ages, let our song praise Your saving power

You amid the raging throng were our sheltering tower.

Furious they assailed us, but Your help availed us.

And Your word broke their sword when our own strength failed us.

 

If only God’s words continued to break the actions of the enemies these days, we would all be a lot safer and happier.  No matter—Hanukah begins this week, the first candle to be lit Tuesday evening, and we’ll all be singing Ma’oz Tzur, Rock of Ages, the way it was meant to be sung.

 

Hanukkah, as the rabbis continue to remind us, is a minor holiday, but there is nothing minor about a prayer asking God to take care of those in this world who are intent on harming innocents.  Unlike the Maccabees, who took fate into their own hands, smashing the enemy themselves, we ask God to keep us from war and violence, and if there is a power beyond the sword that can spare us all, it would be the word of God. 

 

One of the rules of the lit menorah is to not interfere in anyway with the burning of the candles.  We are not to interrupt the flame or even use the flame to our advantage.  That’s a wide swath of no-nos, encompassing anything from using the lit candles to roast hot dogs to even reading by the menorah’s light.  Hanerot hallalu kodesh heim—these candles are holy, and as holy, we dare not touch them or use them in anyway except to publicize the miracle of Hanukkah.

 

Holiness demands caution and reverence.  We do not, for example, touch Torah parchment directly, or walk on Jerusalem’s Temple mount in that area where the Temple once stood, or take change for ourselves out of the Tzdakah box.  That which is holy is sometimes marked as such by becoming unusable, untouchable?  Why?  That’s a really good question for which, I am sure, multiple answers exist, though I will be so bold as to venture only one possible answer. 

 

Humans are, by nature, inquisitive, curious, and… invasive.  It is how we learn about the world and how we interact with it.  But when we establish a realm of holiness, a realm left untouched and undisturbed, it serves as a reminder that we are guests in a universe created by a power greater than ourselves, and faith in that power energizes and humbles, at one and the same time.  Maoz Tzur, the Rock of Ages has lived for eons before us and will continue to live for eons after us.  Ultimately, the criminals die, as do we all, but the spirit of God endures, so too the spirit of justice and compassion, the spirit of honesty and love.  Hanukkah is only a minor holiday, but it offers us some major philosophical latkas to munch on, the whole year through.  Bon appetite!

 

Thursday, December 4, 2014

WOULD DINA TOO ACCUSE BILL COSBY? VAYISHLAH, 2014 / 5775


Page through the Bible and the number of titillating or sordid sex tales are few and far between, but this week’s parashah, Vayislah, comes about as close as the Bible gets to the stuff of the National Inquirer.  The story goes that Dina, Jacob’s only daughter, wandered out of the comfy and secure tents of her father to interact with the ladies in the neighborhood.  Shechem, a Hivite prince, ran into her, and she into him, and he unceremoniously raped her.  But then, at least according to the text, Shechem fell in love with her, and moved his father to secure her for him in marriage.

To make a long story short, Jacob was none too happy with this development, his sons less so, and after a negotiation in which it would appear that Shechem consented to all the prerequisites for this match to take place, two sons of Jacob, Shimon and Levi, entered Shechem’s town and murdered all the males.   

In recent times, as our awareness of women’s issues has come into sharp focus, it has been noted that the one voice absent from this biblical narrative is Dina’s.  What was her read on this unanticipated relationship?  The text describes the initial encounter as a rape, but then goes on to describe Shechem’s love of Dina.  Rape and love are not a comfortable pair.  What did go on there?  Did Dina welcome Shechem’s forward advances?  Was Dina overpowered by a prince in the neighborhood who overstepped his bounds?  Dina is silent.  We can only wonder what her impressions were.

The absence of Dina’s perspective may not be, as some have suggested, the consequence of a male narrator uninterested in the female point of view.  And we can say this based on recent developments surrounding Bill Cosby, now that some 19 women have come forward to accuse him of a variety of sexual assaults.  But wait—when did these alleged encounters take place?  Women have accused Cosby of incidents that took place some 20, 30 and even 40 years ago.  Where were their voices up until now?

The fact is that unwanted sexual advances are not generated by love but by an opportunity to take advantage of someone who is either vulnerable or powerless to fend off the assault.  It takes a whole lot of courage to admit in public that one has been abused or taken advantage of.  It could be understood as an admission of failure, a confession of weakness—an unpleasant twist to a painful situation.  And there is always the real possibility that doubts about the story will arise, that someone will cast the accuser as a liar, and by this add insult to injury.  We can’t say for sure that Cosby is guilty, but we certainly cannot say that the extensive time lapsed between crime and accusation is proof that the crime never happened. 

I hope Bill Cosby is innocent.  He’s brought a lot of laughter into our lives.  But I hope that the accusations against him are taken seriously, no matter how much time has lapsed between the alleged assault and the accusation.  It takes a lot of guts to accuse a powerful person, in public, of a crime committed against oneself. It may take 10 or 20 or 30 years for the abused to summon the courage to speak.  And as for Dina, she has remained silent for over 3,000 years.