Friday 28 July 2006

Leaving Egypt

Rabbi Dude says:

It is said that the Israelites were redeemed from Egypt in the merit of three factors: they did not change their names, they did not change their clothes, and they did not change their language. They continued to give their children names like Reuvén and Léwi; you never would have heard of an Israelite named Imhotep. They continued to wear the same style tunics they wore in Kena'an, refusing to change their dress to match that of the Egyptians. They may have had to speak Egyptian on the streets in order to be understood, but at home it was always Hebrew.

There are certain groups of Jews descended from Europeans who are trying to follow just that philosophy today (my encounters with them were primarily during the time I spent in New York). They refuse to assimilate into the ways of the Western World, and therefore try to emulate these principles: they will not give English names to their children, instead preferring to give Jewish names; they do not speak in English, instead preferring to keep to a Jewish language; they refuse to dress as Americans do, instead preferring to maintain a Jewish style of dress.
So what happens? Instead of giving names like Bob or George or Elizabeth, they insist upon naming their children Feyge (a German name), Charna (Russian), Shprintze (a Germanisation of the Spanish "Esperanza"), Yenta (again, a Germinsation from Spanish, this time of "Juanita"), or Mendel (a Germanisation of the very old Greek name "Menelaus").
Instead of speaking English, they speak a dialect known as "Yiddish." The origins of this form of speech are from Old German--syntax is typical of a Germanic language--but the tongue picked up quite a few words from Slavic languages as Jews from Germany moved east to Russia, Poland, the Ukraine, and other such countries. It is written in the Hebrew alphabet, with spelling conventions using some letters to represent vowels as an aid to pronunciation.* The use of "Yiddish" is so ingrained in the Ashkenazi's persona that even when writing a divorce document (which is traditionally written in Aramaic, a sister language of Hebrew's and spelled with the same alphabet), he will use spelling conventions particular to this Judeo-German when transliterating English names rather than spelling them out as they would be spelled in Aramaic. I have even--on a few occasions--been referred to as a "goy" (non-Jew) by Ashkenazim because I do not speak their dialect of German. Ironically, the name "Yiddish" comes from the German "Judische," meaning "Jewish." Many Ashkenazim even refer to their speech as "Jewish."
Instead of dressing in modern polo shirts or business suits, they insist upon wearing the long jackets and fur hats of their ancestors in Poland and Russia. However, that form of dress itself was only copied from the Russian nobility. And there is always, of course, the fur hat, which they wear even in Miami Beach in the middle of the summer, because it's "Jewish clothing." Maybe their great-grandfathers wore that sort of hat, but that was because they lived in Russia, and it's COLD in Russia in the winter!

So all they're really doing in their attempts to keep away from a non-Jewish culture is keeping to a different non-Jewish culture. If they really want to give their children Jewish names, let them all be Hebrew. If they really want to speak a Jewish language, let it be Hebrew. But let it be in the home only: remember that bit about speaking Egyptian "on the streets in order to be understood"?* If they really want to dress as Jews, let them wear tunics as we did in ancient times.
The way they act is particular to their culture and is by no means a Jewish way of living. I personally think it's ridiculous, but there's no prohibition in the Tora against being ridiculous. But I will never stop being INFURIATED at those who insist that this is the Jewish way of life and who deride others who do not meet their illogical standards.


*The Hebrew alphabet consists entirely of consonants, as the structure of the language permits it to be written without vowels, which can be understood by the fluent reader; most other languages, on the other hand, are not built that way, and ambiguity would be rampant without written vowelisation.
Consider, for example, writing the letters BT and expecting someone else to guess the word by filling in the vowels: it could be bat, bet, bit, bot, or but. Then again, it could also be bate, bait, beat, beet, bite, byte, boat, boot, bout, butt, or bought. But how do we know it isn't batty, booty, or beta? Or, for that matter, abbot, abet, abut, or about? Of course, buyout is always a possibility....

*I will admit that there are many Sefaradim who go to America and continue speaking Arabic, and I will say that is wrong as well, but at the least it is based upon a selfish form of convenience and not an absurd belief that Arabic is a Jewish language.

Tuesday 18 July 2006

Pharaoh's Daughter

Rabbi Dude says:

What was the name of Pharaoh's daughter? You know: the one who found Moses floating up the river. What was her name?

Ask any observant Jew and he'll tell you it was Bathya. Well, due to inaccuracies in pronunciation that have crept into the Hebrew language over time, a Jew from the Middle East would actually say "Batya," and a Jew from Europe would say "Basya." In fact, the original pronunciation would have been "Bathya."
"Would have been"? Yes, would have been. That would have been the pronunciation of her name... if in fact that had been her name.
But it wasn't. Actually, her name was Bithya.
What? Oh, yes. It may not be what you were always told,* by that was, in fact, her name. See Chronicles I 4:18.
Now, I'm willing to hold myself back from condemning everyone who names his daughter Bathya on the simple bases that:
  • Most people, unfortunately, never learn Chronicles (nor any part of the Bible except the Tora itself and--sometimes--the portions used for weekly readings from the Prophets).
  • Even those who do try to learn the Bible in its entirety are confronted by MANY names and dates to remember--most with no significance (I mean no major significance; don't start branding me a heretic for that...)--and most of which are never discussed in educated Jewish circles because of the relative ignorance of the Jewish world regarding them.
  • Everyone seems to think that the name actually is Bathya. If every rabbi you ever had taught you that Noah's wife was named Shirley, would you ever think to question it? This is something that is known to everyone as being true, so why would anyone ever bother to verify it?

But the problem I find is that there are those out there who are so sure of what they have always known that they will not ever question the unshakable truth of their understanding. Such people are pure-bred ostriches; no question about that.
I had one particular experience in which I pointed out this discrepancy over the names to just such a person. He refused to accept it, demanding that I show him in the Bible itself. Well, for that I commend him; too often do I see too many people--even rabbis--accepting whatever anyone claiming to know anything says at face value without first checking out the facts for themselves. So, as requested, I showed him. But even that was not enough. He refused to accept it. He just could not tolerate that something he'd always known to be true (even something so minor as the exact pronunciation of a long-dead woman's name) had been taken out from under him.
So what did he do? He pulled a book--a story book intended for children--off the shelves and showed me that the author of that book (being of European descent) had recorded her name as Basya. He then explained to me that he knew the author of that book to be a "slam genius" and that he couldn't possibly have written "Basya" if in fact the name had been "Bithya."
Now, I see one of two possibilities: either the author of that book is incorrect and the Bible is correct, or the author of that book is correct and the Bible is incorrect. Given the two choices, I would tend to opt for the former.
But why, then, would he have written "Basya"? It would seem to me a fair guess that, since that's what everyone says, and since that's what he's always known to be true, he simply wrote it in as he knew it without bothering to look it up. Even slam geniuses take some things for granted, I suppose....
But the one who showed me the story book and insisted that that constituted conclusive proof, even against the Bible itself? Well, when a person wants to believe something, he'll latch on to any argument available to prove himself correct, no matter how weak and no matter how illogical.

Then again, don't we all do that?


*The word for daughter in Hebrew is "bath," and "Yah" is one of God's names. However, letters in Hebrew represent consonants only, and vowels often change with conjugation, declension, and agglutination. So, while the first person singular possessive is formed by adding "i" to the end of a word, "my daughter" in Hebrew would actually be "biti," not "bati." The way vowels change within words and their effects upon meaning is a very precise--but not difficult--topic which, unfortunately, not enough Jews study anymore, and it would seem obvious that the confusion over the name of Pharoah's daughter arises from combining "bat" and "Yah" and rendering "Batya" without seeing the need to alter vowels.

Monday 17 July 2006

Rabbi Dude's Favourite Holiday

"Hey, Rabbi Dude, what's your favourite holiday?"

Rabbi Dude says:

Hm. I do so love all the holidays, and each for a different reason:

  • The ideal opportunity for a new start is at Rosh haShana. The sound of the shofar--proclaming God as king over the world--brings to mind wishes of a day he might truly be recognised as such by all.
  • I take Yom haKipurim very seriously. How could I not? When one is standing in judgment before the king of the universe, begging for nothing more than a chance to live just one more year, I would think anyone else who knows what's going on would take it seriously, too.
  • Sukot is a great time to sit outside and to enjoy God's presence in the otherwise unprotected suka. The palm, myrtle, willow, and citron make the holiday feel truly special, and when the weather co-operates it can be oh-so-pleasant....
  • Shemini 'atzeret is a final parting to the holiday season. One last day to enjoy our connection to God before a half-year respite (well, at least it was half a year before Purim and Hanuka came along). Séder simhat Tora, too, is always a blast.
  • Hanuka is a time of peace and calm. The light shining through the darkness of the cold months (in the Northern Hemisphere, anyway) is poignant and warming. Winter was always my favourite season, and getting the family together at the door or at the window to light the candles against the snow-covered city sidewalks makes for the most beautiful scene my memory can conjure up to warm me and to make me feel at home.
  • 15 Shevat is a fine time to reflect upon the greatness of God's Nature and its everyday miracles and the remarkable blessing he has given us in the Land of Israel. Besides, I like pomegranates. It's also one of the rare times you can find me drinking beer (have to get that barley in somehow...).
  • Purim is arguably one of the best. How could I not enjoy the one day a year I get to act the way I'd like to act all year round (but people tell me I'm not allowed to)?
  • When I was young Pesah was my favourite holiday. I enjoy the pomp and circumstances, the ceremony and the procedure of the séder. Having an English gradfather, these sorts of ritauls have always appealed to me. Besides, I love haroset, and I often make myself proud at my creativity in coming up with meal ideas despite the restrictions. The food still isn't as good as the rest of the year's, but I do well enough with what I have to make it seem better. Last year at se'uda shelishit on the eighth day we had shawarma, for example. Yum.
  • La"g ba'omer is a great time for bonfiring and barbecuing. What could be more Aussie than that?
  • Shavu'ot is great. Staying up all night learning is a blast, and I have a tradition running back six years now: pizza and palanchiki. This year the palanchiki were more like pancakes than I would have preferred, and we couldn't have vegetable-cheese pies like my wife made last year, and the pizza didn't come out as well as I'd have hoped, but at least I had egg creams....

So, what's my favourite of all the holidays? Well, that's a very simple question to answer, after all:

"Whichever one is coming up next."

Seriously. Anytime one holiday passes I find myself thinking ahead to the next one and getting myself all worked up about it. I get so involved in planning for it and in its meaning that my thoughts turn to little else. I love all our holidays, and I get myself so caught up in whatever's coming that it becomes my favourite.

I wish you all the clarity to see the true joy in whatever God brings your way.