Learning Goes Both Ways

Just read an essay by Marc Rosenstein at the URJ's Israel Connections that raises an excellent point and tells a touching story of Islam/Judaism relations: link here.

In brief: the local Jewish community gave a class and the Muslims attended, but there were no Jews taking classes from the Muslims. So they started one. And it sounds like it was a hit.

I like this idea. Especially the part where we remember that communication, education, and openness in interfaith relations go in both directions. It is important to study other faiths as you study your own - even beyond the big three - especially those that blend religious and political interactions. It occurs to me that when I begin rabbinic school I should devote considerable attention to studying our sibling religions.

It also occurs to me that I don't have to wait.

A random, briefly considered thought

So many of the problems in our world are caused by the imbalance of wealth. The commonly suggested solutions tend to propose bringing all the poor up to the middle class, but this idea will not work – or at least not well enough.

Right now, some have too little, some have enough, and some have more than they need. Merely bringing everyone up to the level of “enough” with a few at “more than they need” doesn’t solve the problem. Remember your Einstein; concentrations of mass actually deform space, with the attendant effects on the surroundings. In the same vein, large concentrations of money can deform society around it.

I don’t propose creating a truly level society; sticking to the physics metaphor, this represents the heat death of the universe. Differences in levels create the potential which leads to energy which causes reactions; level everything off, and it all stops. There must be some variation, but it needs to be a manageable amount so that we can put the potential to good use.

The Gold and the Walls

Before the election of Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1932, gold coins had circulated freely in the United States as legal money, and gold bullion was owned by banks and other private entities. In early 1933, as part of the New Deal, the U.S. Congress enacted a package of laws which removed gold from circulation as money, and which made private ownership of gold in the U.S. (except for coins in collections or jewelry such as wedding rings) illegal.

-Wikipedia entry on Ft. Knox

One of my friends made an interesting comment tonight; she asked a question about Jewish law, and my answer led to explaining the idea of “The Fence Around the Law”. She was a little…not confused by the concept; more like disturbed. She compared it to putting all the country’s gold in Ft. Knox (yes, I know not all the gold is there, but go with it for now). We take something beautiful and valuable, and hide it where it can’t be seen or touched. And after all, what value does gold have if you just hide it in a room somewhere and don’t ever use it?

This seemed to me a very apt metaphor. We build this fence to protect the law, or possibly to protect ourselves from the law, and after a time all we can see is the fence. In fact, there are rumors the building is empty.

Another of our friends pointed out there’s a reason the gold is in there. And even just sitting there, it still has value and purpose. In fact, a large part of its value is, as he put it, making sure we don’t have it. Now, that’s not as contentious a statement as it might originally seem; if all that gold were released to the market, it would cause massive inflation, making our current economic problems even worse. And this is partially true for Torah study as well. Part of the reason to put the law behind a fence is to keep it out of our hands. In this theory, if the people held the law they might get it wrong. And not in a small way; they could destroy Judaism by turning the law into something it’s not!

To a certain extent, I hope I am exaggerating. I hope there is a more positive, affirming, uplifting, spiritual reason for the fence. And if so, I hope someday to learn it. But whatever the reason, the effect is the same. Our only view now is of the walls. And the gold cannot be seen.

My Next Step

I start Hebrew classes today; major step on my journey. The things I need to do for Rabbinic school, at this point, are learn Hebrew, and get involved with a Temple. I have now started both. Hebrew will be easy, but the time required is fairly fixed; the Temple's timeline is completely at my discression, but it will be much harder. So it's an interesing combination. Hopefully, by the time I know enough Hebrew to write a post, I'll also find the software that lets me Hebrew-blog.

Relatedly, I decided it's time to learn about twitter (listed as "bookandcoffee"); it seems that I'll be able to tie that medium to this, I just have to figure out how. If anyone can help, please advise. Otherwise, it will just be a plesant surprise at some point in the future.

Good night!

Lilah tov!

A Kaddish

Note: This should have been posted several days ago; I wrote it, and then couldn't get it posted. These were my feelings in the moment, though.

My friend's died yesterday. He'd been a part of my life for 15 years or so, but I never really knew him.

My friend's family hosted the annual holiday party for my college buddies; after graduation we scattered across the country (not surprising) and found we had only limited time for staying in touch (more surprising), so this party was where we caught up on a year's worth of news, and reclaimed for a night the excitement and joy for living we felt in colege (and also our college ability to drink copiously). It is absolutely one of the best nights of my year, every year. It's always been at my friend's house, so his family became a fixture in our group. And here's his father, a man who's been part of my fondest memories for almost two decades, and I didn't know him. He worked as a postman, which meant early shifts, which meant he was usually heading to bed just as the party got moving. Most years, his presence was defined by his absence – which I guess is how it will be from now on, too.

Here’s what I did know.

Freshman year in college when my friends took me to the Renn Faire for the first time he drove. He was the only one in the car not in garb (or some attempted version of it at least; my early attempts were…frightening), and I think he enjoyed himself but I’m not sure. But he was the one at the wheel; he spent his day off taking us somewhere we wanted to be, and waiting patiently while we had our fun.

A few years later, my car broke down on the highway about 50 miles outside of town. My mom was unavailable, so I called my friend’s house, and his parents drove out to get me. They stayed with me until the truck came, and drove me home while my car went to the shop.

He always welcomed us into his house, into his life, and shared his time, his food, and his laughter.

Maybe I never knew him as an individual, but I knew him to be a mensch, and he will be missed.