This is the October 2009 Q and A podcast with Rabbi Artson. In this podcast, he discusses various topics such as Mechitza.
This is the October 2009 Q and A podcast with Rabbi Artson. In this podcast, he discusses various topics such as Mechitza.
It is a rabbinic dictum not to attempt to weigh the value of one mitzvah against the other. Rather than saying that this mitzvah is more important than another, we are to recognize that all mitzvot are grounded in our brit (covenant) with the Holy One and derive their authority out of our chosen response to God's will.
May I have a word with you? The opening words of the fifth book of the Torah begin simply enough, "These are the words that Moses spoke (diber) to all Israel." The Rabbis of the ancient Midrash Sifre Devarim note that every place the Tanach uses the verb 'daber' indicates harshness or rebuke, whereas the Hebrew word 'amar' conveys a sense of praise.
After the Israelites sin at Baal-Peor, God lashes out in anger, ordering Moses to "Take all the heads of the people and have them publicly impaled." Before Moses can act on God's command, a leading Israelite named Zimri and a leading Midianite woman named Cozbi enter the sacred site of the Tent of Meeting and there, before the entire people, begin to copulate. This arrogant escalation of sin inflames Pinhas, the leader of the levitical guards, who grabs a spear and impales the two sinners.
This is the age of vicarious virtue: all of us prefer to continue living our lives in much the same way we always have, and all of us want our leaders to adhere to the standard of our words. In that way, we get to enjoy our own laxity while still claiming credit for the morality of our ideals. Our mouths toot one thing and our deeds blare a different, more gaudy, tune.
The set-up: Moses instructs twelve spies, one for each of Israel's tribes, to investigate the characteristics of the land the people are about to enter. They travel throughout the land of Israel during the course of forty days, and they return to the camp bearing an enormous load of the fruit of the land. Yet when they return, their testimony is contradictory. On the one hand, they assert that the land is one which "flows with milk and honey," a land bounteous and fertile.
Several years ago I had the pleasure of taking a trip to the land of Israel traveling with my wife, Elana, and with a dear friend and rabbinic colleague. At some point Elana had some family business in Tel Aviv, so I and my friend took a bus ride to the North, to the mystical city of Tzvat. On the bus we were approached by someone wearing a black hat, very strictly observant, who started a religious argument in which I declined to participate, but which my colleague and friend seemed to enjoy.
Rabbi Artson discusses the issues within the Torahs framework in this podcast. This is the 3rd iteration of the charge series. The first podcast discussion begins in 2007.
Throughout antiquity, most people assumed that illness was a punishment from the gods. Incensed at some infraction of ritual law, pagan gods were forever visiting terrible diseases, sometimes to the point of death, on their worshipers. In fact, this tendency to attribute divine disfavor to any manifestation of sickness runs rampant in our society as well (although only for the illness of someone else!).
"Real men don't eat quiche," proclaims one bumper sticker. "Would you kill flipper for a tuna sandwich?" inquires another. Both messages assert a connection between what we eat and who we are. Our community and our character are reflected in our choices of food. Vegetarians, macrobiotics, those who limit their cholesterol intake, those who won't eat red meat, all are asserting that we are, indeed, what we eat. While concerns of physical health remain the predominant factor in guiding contemporary people's diet, the link between eating and identity remain strong.