Showing posts with label non-Jews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label non-Jews. Show all posts

Thursday, August 8, 2013

Intermarriage Education

See here for my previous posting on this subject

Parshat Shoftim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

For as far back as I can remember, I have heard rabbis and community leaders utilize catch phrases in public lectures: "We must stem the tide of assimilation!" and "Intermarriage rates are skyrocketing!"
            
Most Jews I have met who grew up in the 1920s and 30s married Jewish and tried to raise Jewish children. Marrying a non-Jew was out of the question – and perhaps in a slightly more bigoted and less-tolerant society the feeling was mutual.
            
Many Jews who grew up in the 40s and 50s were fed similar instructions. But perhaps the emergence of Israel as a state created a human, and even admirable face to the enigma of the Jew, and marrying whomever for love began to become an option.

Nowadays, with intermarriage in the United States being over 50%, many Jewish children grow up hearing, "As long as you love your spouse, as long as you are happy, it doesn't matter to us." More than likely, a number of parents who don't inculcate the need for their children to marry Jewish don't themselves understand why it should be important.

This is not to say any Jewish parents whose child married out did not try very hard to teach their children, nor is it to suggest they are failures. In our society, people choose spouses, often enough without, despite, or deliberately against their parents' input. More couples than I can count have said to me, "I am not happy about my kid's choices. But what can I do? I still love him/her."

Is intermarriage bad?

Not wishing to be judgmental, or to point fingers, let us just say that it is particularly frowned upon in the Talmud (Yevamot 76a, Kiddushin 68b, Avodah Zara 36b) and its commentaries, and most clearly in the words of Maimonides (Laws of Forbidden Relations chapter 12).

The Torah itself says (Devarim 7:3) "Do not marry them, don't give your daughter to his son, nor take his daughter for your son."

In all fairness, one of the Talmudic debates directly addresses the question of whether this verse applies only to the 7 Nations of Canaan, even if they convert, or to all non-Jewish nations who do not convert. Other than people from a few nations that no longer exist, those who convert are no longer subject to the prohibition of this kind of inter-marriage. After all, one who converts is a Jew.

The main reason given for the prohibition, as described by Targum Yonatan, is that a nuptial of this sort paints one as having married (embraced) the other person's gods. While the Talmud in Kiddushin goes back and forth postulating whether a man follows his wife's religion, or whether a woman follows her husband's, all of which has repercussions in defining whether the children of such a union are Jewish (the Talmud's conclusion is that only a Jewish mother bears Jewish children), the verse in 7:3 suggests that either union does not promote the kind of Jewish continuity that our People need. Rabbi S.R. Hirsch has a powerful essay on this point in his Torah commentary on this verse.

The Torah's solid prohibition of intermarriage often comes into question in the context of next week's parsha, in the opening section about the "Yefat To'ar" – the beautiful, sometimes married, woman that an Israelite soldier brings home from the battlefield. (21:11-13) Rashi there says the Torah responds to one's evil inclination.

The problem is exacerbated, however, because the permissive mode comes up elsewhere: in the war with Midyan (Bamidbar 31:9,18) and in our parsha (Devarim 20:13-14). In these cases, the Torah does not seem to be responding to a particular lust – it is saying that the female prisoners of war are now available to you.
            
The Alshich in our parsha couches it all nicely saying the intent is to reflect and change one's ways through utilizing these people in helping one perform commandments.
            
In an article discussing Yefat Toar, Rabbi Michael Rosensweig addressed the question of the Torah's allowing these kinds of unions.
            
His message is quite relevant here.
            
A careful study of the Yefat Toar process affirms the need to "refashion one's emotional response to avoid even sanctioned halachic compromise."  Quoting the Kli Yakar, Rabbi Rosensweig noted that "in order to succeed against the concrete enemy on the battlefield, one must first struggle internally to refine one's halachic values and vanquish the yetzer ha-ra that is accentuated by the passions of battle." The Rabbis spoke of the negative consequences of marrying the Yefat Toar, even if it is a legal union, consequences Rabbi Rosensweig described as coming from "diluted and compromised standards of discipline, restraint, and mutual respect, [which are otherwise] cornerstones of the halachic vision of sanctity in family life."

That the Torah allows these unions specifically as a result of war stands to indicate that even these unions, valid in a specific context, are far from ideal. Suggesting "the Torah allows it and it is therefore OK all the time" is an invalid argument.

There are many people who intermarry who nonetheless agree to raise their children Jewish. I would invite the non-Jewish spouse who is raising Jewish children to consider converting – why not be completely on the same page as your children?

For the sake of the future of our People, while I hope we all bear only friendly will towards our non-Jewish neighbors, coworkers and friends, it behooves us to remind ourselves and our children (and extended family!) that we marry Jews to maintain our heritage and to preserve the best way to serve God according to the dictates of the Torah.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

How to Judge

Parshat Devarim


by Rabbi Avi Billet


The book of Devarim begins (1:12-18) with Moshe reminding the people of how when the Law was first given he was unable to personally deal with every dispute. At the time, he appointed a tier system of judges over specific population sizes to work with the people. Moshe would serve, in a sense, as the equivalent of the Supreme Court (sans the politics), as the highest arbiter of the law, whose decisions are final.
          
It is worth noting that the way Moshe describes what he did at the time is mostly a reflection of the steps he took following the advice given to him by his father-in-law Yitro in Shmot 18. The Or HaChaim uses that story to indicate the Torah's approach to learning from anyone who has wisdom to share – Yitro being a model non-Jew who was able to teach Moshe organizational skills.
          
In his recounting of those early days of appointing judges, Moshe recalls the instructions that were given to the initial appointees: "Listen to every dispute among your brethren, and judge honestly between each man and his brother [or] his 'ger.'" (1:16) He continues to describe how favoritism is to be avoided, whether based on wealth, looks, or some other criteria. Just judge by the book, based on the evidence presented.
          
In order to understand what this form of judging means, we need to understand what the term "ger" means in this context. While "ger" sometimes means "convert" or "proselyte," the fact is that one who has converted to Judaism is really supposed to be referred to as a convert for one second – at the moment of conversion. Afterwards, the person is meant to be included in the term "his brother" – because one who has joined the Jewish people is a full Jew (with a few restrictions on certain positions they may hold, which do not transfer to their children).
          
It could be referring to a "ger toshav" – what we might call a "righteous gentile" or a non-Jew who has opted to live with the Jewish people, abide by the 7 Noahide Laws, and accept Jewish sovereignty. This category would clearly be distinct from "his brother."
          
Rashi offers two interpretations. The first focuses on the word "his" (which is a one-letter suffix in Hebrew), which Rashi explains to mean "his litigant." Rashi comes to this interpretation from a play on words from the word "agur," which means one who "collects arguments" to present against him in court. This likely refers to a litigant who is classified differently than a "brother" – who comes to court to settle a friendly dispute – particularly one who comes as an adversary.
          
Rashi's second interpretation is that the word "ger" is a play on words on a similar word which means "where one lives" (think "gur ba'aretz"), referring to people who are dividing property, such as siblings who are splitting physical objects they inherited together.
          
Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch expands the sphere, saying "his ger" may refer to a neighbor, or one who lives under the same roof (think apartment buildings or condo units).

What is clear from these commentaries, the 'ger' in this context seems to refer to anything but a convert.
          
I think the message of "his ger" is that disputes – some may be civil, some uncivil –  come up with those who are fairly close to you and they should be brought before the magistrate and adjudicated.
          
While this may be informative as to when or in what circumstance a case is to be brought before the court, it does not instruct us as to how to go about presenting the cases best so they can be judged properly.
          
Which leaves us with the tale Rabbi Hertz shares in his Chumash. It is a Chassidic tale of a rabbi's wife who has a dispute with her "ozeret" (helper), who decides to present her case to a court. As she leaves the house, her husband rushes to accompany her, and when she asks him why he is coming, he says, "To provide a defense for the other woman, who will otherwise not have an advocate before the court."
          
The word "ger" can mean "stranger," and it can also mean "other." And the message of this tale is the message of how to judge others.
          
Maybe the best way to judge others is really not to judge others. But human nature is such that we always see ourselves as being right and the other person as being wrong. And we do rush to judge. And while some cases are black and white (like the shooter apprehended in Colorado in the aftermath of his horrific act), most cases between people are gray and have two sides to the story.
          
And it does not matter who the other side is – whether the person is wealthy, poor, a prominent person in a community, a maid, or even a derelict. Every person has a story, every perspective should have a chance to be heard, and after all sides are presented and defended, a judgment can be made.
            
As we come to Tisha B'Av once again, we are reminded of the kinds of behavior that Chazal tell us brought about the destruction of Jerusalem and the Holy Temple. May our shift to reserving judgment until after we've heard both sides serve as a merit for us to let us see the Temple rebuilt, speedily in our days.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

A Big Fish Story?

A Yom Kippur Message
In our tradition, the High Holidays are viewed as a time period when all of humanity, not just its Jews, are judged for the coming year.

In his introduction to the book of Yonah, the haftarah read at Mincha on Yom Kippur, Rabbi J.H. Hertz writes, "The essential teaching [of Yonah] is that the Gentiles should not be grudged God's love, care and forgiveness. It is this grudging which is so superbly rebuked throughout the Book, and most of all in the final chapter, which must rightly be considered the climax of the story."

Explaining how this book fits naturally into the theme of Yom Kippur, Rabbi Hertz continues to elucidate its important lessons: "It is impossible to run away from God's presence, God takes pity on all His creatures, He is ever willing to accept true repentance."

For us, one ironic aspect of the tale is that there are two significant groups of people who recognize God's role in their lives, and commit to a level of repentance that saves their lives – and neither group consists of any Jews. The former is the group of sailors on the ship that threw Yonah overboard, and the latter are the people of Nineveh.

The lone Jew in the story, the prophet himself, seems to make a mistake at every turn. Even though he eventually follows God's bidding, he still walks out of tale as the recipient of one final rebuke from God.

First he is told to go to Nineveh, but he runs to Tarshish. When everyone on his ship is working like mad to save themselves from the storm, Yonah is dreaming away in lala-land. After he is thrown overboard, he wallows for three days in the belly of a large fish until he realizes "I better do what God told me to do." He gives the message to the Ninevites, gets really depressed over their repentance, and asks God to kill him. God helps him forget his worries through the growth of a shade-giving-kikayon, but the quick demise of the kikayon puts Yonah into even further depression, when he again wants to die, until God points out Yonah's flaw in reasoning as to the merits of sparing Nineveh from destruction.

God's message is simple. Humans and animals are My creatures too – no matter where they come from and where they seem to be heading. There is always room for people to change their ways – they just need to want to change, and to recognize that changing is a long-term process that has to start somewhere.

The classic interpretation is that the fish really was summoned to swallow Yonah. On the other hand, the Daat Mikra commentary on Yonah records a possible interpretation, suggested by Rabbi Yosef Kaspi, that the big fish story was really just a big fish story – that the first two chapters of the book of Yonah were really a prophesy, and that Yonah dreamt of the city of Nineveh, whose Akkadian symbol was a fish in a house (the word "Nin" means "fish", and neveh means "city") – and that Yonah envisioned himself trapped in a fish for three days in lieu of going to Nineveh which was a three day journey (compare 2:1 and 3:3).

I like this latter possibility because it removes the part of the tale that almost paints Yonah as a bumbling prophet, and puts his choices in terms of a subconscious vision that can be filled with mistakes he might have made had he been awake – but are merely reflections of what he "might" have wanted to do, even though, as a prophet, of course he is going to do God's bidding right away.

Perhaps Hertz's comment about not begrudging Gentiles of God's love, which seems somewhat anachronistic, is meant to be a message to our non-Jewish neighbors that on our holiest day, we are thinking of their welfare as well. In the face of doom, the sailors and Ninevites returned to God on their own terms, through the influence of the story's lone Jew.

Since we believe that all of humanity are judged on this day, we want anyone who might be interested in "seeing what the Jews are thinking about today" to know that we believe everyone in the world has the capacity for good and the capability to return to God in whatever way they deem appropriate - with choices that benefit one another and humankind as a whole.
            
I also believe this passage is meant to show one more lesson. There is one time when the Torah declares straight out that "God loves you." It is Devarim 23:6, which reads, "Of course, God did not consent to listen to Bilaam, and God your Lord transformed the curse into a blessing for you, since God your Lord loves you."
            
Peace in the world and peace between neighbors of different faiths can only come about when leaders, or prophets such as Bilaam and Yonah respectively, ultimately do what God asks of them – bless or guide the [perhaps detested] foreigners for whom they may have personally harbored contempt, so "the other" can survive and thrive on this earth, left alone by outsiders who do not know what is best for them. This is not to suggest Yonah hated the people of Nineveh (though it is clear Bilaam hated the Jewish people), but it is clear that he felt telling Nineveh to repent would reflect badly on his own people who were unrepentant.
            
In the end, we are all God's creatures, and He would like us to find a way to live in harmony in this world, no matter how we might personally feel about "others." This prophesy is no "big fish story." It is the tale of all tales "when the wolf and lamb live together in harmony" (Isaiah 11:6). May we all live to see such a prophesy fulfilled speedily in our days.