What the Bible has to Say About Blaming the Victim:

Some Thoughts on the Origins of Slavery in Egypt

Thank you to Abigail Hirsch for her constant support, and Chris Zacchia for his exceptional camera work

Interest Free Loans: The Uncharity

Charity comes straight from the heart. Everybody can feel the pain of those in need, which is why compassionate people want to give the hungry food. When it comes to charity, the Jewish community can certainly take pride in the remarkable sums that we raise each year to take care of the poor. This philanthropic excellence highlights what is called “the Jewish heart”.

But charity at its best doesn’t only come from the heart; it comes from the mind as well. Charity should be given in a way that maximizes the impact on the recipient, and it should be given in a way that best preserves the dignity of those in need. The Bible tells us that we need to dream of a day when “there may be no more destitute among you”; to accomplish this, we must not only give from the heart, but also from the mind. When you give from the heart, you give the poor food; when you give from the mind, you give the poor a livelihood.

The Jewish tradition of giving from the mind is best expressed by the interest free loan. The Bible insists that we lend to our hand “to strengthen” those who are slipping by lending them some money. As the 11^th commentator Rashi explains, to strengthen a person when they slip will save a great deal of effort; a lot less help is required to help someone who is slipping than to help someone who has fallen. Lending to someone who is in a credit crunch is much easier for the community than supporting someone who has fallen bankrupt.

But the interest free loan is more than a preventative measure. It is actually a form of charity that isn’t charity, the “uncharity”. Maimonides, the great medieval Jewish thinker and author, explains that there are different levels of charity; the highest form of charity is found when you give someone an interest free loan or a job. By giving someone an opportunity to flourish independently, we have given them the greatest gift of all, and by giving someone a loan rather than a gift, we have preserved their dignity. Ironically, the greatest form of charity is not a charity at all, it is the uncharity, where the recipient leaves without a handout, but with his head held high and with hope for a better future.

Today, the world has begun to understand the Jewish wisdom of the uncharity. Microlending, another form of what Jews have practiced for decades, is now making a powerful impact on the developing world. It is based on this simple wisdom that one must always give from the heart and the mind, and look to enable the poor to feed themselves. The practice of this “uncharity” can remove poverty from the world, by enabling the poor to support themselves in dignity and pride.

Steve Jobs, Noah, and Living Outside of the Box

Welcome Home Gilad

Tears are running down my face; I have just heard the news that a deal has been reached to bring Gilad Shalit home in a few days. I read articles about the deal, and I cry.

No, I have never met Gilad Shalit; yet I cry about his return anyway. I don’t know his family, yet I have spoken about Gilad every Shabbat for the last five years. In that time, I’ve lobbied the Canadian Parliament for Gilad, run publicity campaigns for Gilad, and written articles for Gilad.

And now I cry for joy. I cry for Gilad.

There is of course, a big question about Gilad’s release: is it worth it? There’s been a great debate about whether or not this deal is a good idea or not. In return for Gilad, 1,000 hardcore supporters of Hamas will be released. Hundreds of them have blood on their hands. Some argue that not only is Israel giving up too much, but that this deal will encourage Hamas to continue acts of terror. And of the 1,000 who are released, who knows what harm they will do?

The other point of view maintains that bringing Gilad home is important for the morale of every soldier. Hamas needs no encouragement to do acts of terror, but Israeli soldiers and their families need to know that the government of Israel will do anything for their release. Both points of view have real merit, and even though it sounds wishy washy, I find it hard not to nod in agreement with both sets of arguments.

But today I’m not thinking of debates; I’m just happy for Gilad and his family, and that’s what’s unusual. I’m left wondering why I’m crying for a total stranger. Is it normal to walk around with teary eyed about someone you’ve never met? And I know I’m not the only one to cry; I’ve seen the reactions of everyone around me to this news. Gilad is not a celebrity, he’s certainly no Steve Jobs; he’s just a nice young man who had the misfortune of being kidnapped. Yet for five years, millions of people have been thinking about Gilad every day, and today, they are crying tears of joy. But why are they crying?

Actually, there’s lesson about Jewish identity in our tears. To be Jewish is not just to be part of a religion or a nation, it’s to be part of a family. The Book of Genesis tells a story of a family, the family of Abraham and Sara, the family that ultimately gave birth to the Jewish people. One would think that Genesis would be a lot shorter, and would only dwell on the spiritual and political achievements of this family; after all, we just want to know a little bit of the early background of the nation, before jumping into the actual history of the Jews. But instead, Genesis goes on at length about this family’s dynamics, telling all about feuds and competition and love and forgiveness. It does so, because Genesis isn’t merely the prologue to Jewish history, it is the foundation of Jewish History. The lesson of Genesis is that even when the family evolves into a nation, the nation never stops being a family. We are, to use the Biblical phrase, “Israel’s children”, brothers and sisters in one large family of thirteen million people.

For better or for worse, this sense of family is very much a part of Jewish identity. Jews, even total strangers, will treat each other with all the familiarity, warmth and dysfunction of any family. Yes, we argue too much, often about petty things; but when the chips are down, we’re there for each other. One feels connected to a fellow Jew no matter where they are from, whether it be Montreal, Montivideo or Mumbai, because we’re all from the same the family.

And that’s why I had tears in my eyes upon hearing of Gilad’s release. Even though we don’t know each other, Gilad is still part of our family; and even though we haven’t met, Gilad is still my brother. Like millions of other Jews, I’m really happy Gilad’s coming home.

So, welcome home Gilad. Your thirteen million brothers and sisters have been waiting for you.

How to Keep a Defeat From Becoming a Failure (pre-Rosh Hashanah video)



Thank you Abigail!

My Problem with Jason Alexander

I got a sick feeling in my stomach when I read that Jason Alexander, (who played George Costanza on the hit T.V. show Seinfeld), was going to headline fundraising events for the Federation’s annual campaigns in Montreal and Toronto. Of course, events like these are not unusual; similar occasions elsewhere regularly feature all sorts of celebrities, including sports stars, politicians, business executives, models and movie producers. But it still bothers me that we need celebrities to sell charity.

Make no mistake; I absolutely supported inviting Jason Alexander. (full disclosure – I’m a Vice President of our local Federation). Federations have first and foremost a responsibility to raise money to feed the poor, to support Jewish education and to defend the state of Israel. The Montreal and Toronto events sold out, due to the celebrity power of Jason Alexander; and that translates directly into more money for communal needs. If Jason Alexander can help the community feed even one more poor family, then I’m all for inviting him. The needy family receiving some extra support certainly won't mind.

I didn’t have a problem with Jason Alexander’s presentation either. Yes, I cringed when I heard some of the sarcastic things he said about his Jewish background. He made fun of his Hebrew school, his Bar Mitzvah, and his parent’s hypocrisy. Judaism doesn’t inspire Jason Alexander spiritually. But I can’t fault him for that; like many Jews of his generation, Jason Alexander was taught a hollow Judaism, an empty piety based on guilt, fear and hypocrisy. You can’t blame the messenger for the message he delivers.

Actually, my problem with Jason Alexander isn’t with him, but with the size of the audience that went to see him. It’s always easy to get a sellout crowd for a man whose major accomplishment in life was appearing on a hit TV show that ran for nine years. While he was speaking, I couldn’t help wondering; would a similar crowd have come out for Natan Sharasky, who spent nine heroic years in a Soviet prison? Sadly, a hero like Sharansky just wouldn’t sell the same way. Today, celebrity matters most, and style is prized above substance; in virtually any venue, an Oscar winner will sell more tickets than a Nobel Prize winner. The reality is that an actor from a “show about nothing” is far more popular than the real people who have done something, and celebrities garner far more respect than the fireman, policemen and soldiers who risk their own lives daily in order to protect and save the lives of others. North American culture seems to get more superficial by the day.

For Jews, this superficiality is especially dangerous. Far too many Jews subscribe to the movie set version of Jewish identity. All you need is a few Jewish props, and you’re an authentic Jew: a plate of gefilte fish on the table, some cantorial music in the background, and a conversation sprinkled with a few Yiddish words. A Jewish style Jew will know all of celebrities in Adam Sandler’s Hannukah song, but none of the Rabbis in the Mishnah. In an era of superficiality, it’s easy to latch on to a Jewish identity that is about nothing.

Jewish identity used to be about something. Jews have disagreed on about virtually everything, but there was once a universal consensus that Judaism is a serious, thoughtful undertaking. Instead of chasing movie stars, Jews used to pursue ideas. Indeed, Jews have always been passionate about learning. Jerome, the Church father, remarked that in the fourth century that the average Jew knew the Tanakh by heart. In Eastern Europe, bakers and coachmen would hurry to the shtibl to study some Ein Yaakov and weekly Parsha. Even the illiterate would come to synagogue, hoping to catch a snatch of enlightening conversation. We have always seen ourselves as “the People of the Book”*, a name that we have proudly embraced. At the very least, to be Jewish means to be passionate about ideas and learning.

But now superficiality threatens to undermine this vital tradition. The new Jewish “Stars of David”** are known for their acting and not their actions. For too many Jews, Jewish learning is no longer a passion. Sadly, we are no longer the People of the Book; we’re now the People of People magazine.

And that’s my problem with Jason Alexander.

* (the phrase "People of the Book" first appears in the Koran)

** (name of an actual book about Jewish celebrities. Jason Alexander is interviewed there as well).

Circumcision is Incompatible with the 21st Century: An Orthodox Rabbi Agrees

It’s easy to dismiss the supporters of a November ballot initiative in San Francisco to make it “unlawful to circumcise, excise, cut, or mutilate the whole or any part of the foreskin, testicles, or penis of another person who has not attained the age of 18 years.” Like all true believers, these “intactivists” engage in junk science and exaggerated rhetoric about “male genital mutilation”. Further discrediting the anti-circumcision cause is the fact that the movement’s leadership peddles propaganda that borders on the anti-Semitic, such as the anti-circumcision comic book “Foreskin Man”, which reads like a sophomoric plagiary of a superhero cartoon, a racy Penthouse fantasy and Der Sturmer. One could imagine that after November the intactivist movement will quickly pass from center stage. But that would be a mistake.

Circumcision is unsettling. As the actor Russell Crowe wrote on Twitter: "I love my Jewish friends, I love the apples and the honey and the funny little hats but stop cutting yr babies.". Despite the politically incorrect tone, Crowe makes it clear why the anti-circumcision movement is here to stay: circumcisions are bloody and make babies cry. Even the committed among us are uncomfortable, and most of us look down nervously when the mohel begins the ceremony. It’s painful to enter the Covenant of Abraham.

In the past, circumcision was considered attractive because of its health benefits, and even many non-Jews were routinely circumcised. Today, it’s debatable if circumcision’s health benefits warrant it being a standard procedure. Without a clear medical rationale, non-Jews will stop circumcising their children, and marginally affiliated Jews are sure to follow. The Jewish community can no longer rely on doctors to do the mohel’s job, and regardless of the outcome in San Francisco, it will be a lot harder to convince apathetic Jewish parents to perform circumcisions. Why would any parent want to endure the blood, pain and tears of their baby’s circumcision for no reason?

In short, circumcision is a marketing nightmare; outside of a deep commitment to Judaism, there’s no good reason to do them. This point is significant, because the Jewish community is intoxicated with marketing. Federations commission countless surveys to find out what young Jews want. Jewish professionals search for ways to make their programs “hipper”. The almighty “social media” must be deployed in the battle for the hearts of the younger members of the tribe. Grant money flows liberally to market driven, cutting edge, jargon laden programs with a social media presence.

I can’t argue against good marketing; representatives of a religion that has prized ideas should be able to communicate well. But there’s a thin line between marketing well and being “market driven”. The market driven vision believes that the customer is always right. So if it’s Yiddish or yoga or Jewish jokes that turn young Jews on, let’s pour community resources into a Yiddish Yoga Yuckfest. (With bagels, lox and cream cheese, of course). Instead of challenging young Jews, a market driven vision of Judaism seeks to produce a 21st century Judaism that will make our customers happy.

But here comes the problem. Aspects of Judaism like circumcision will always be unpopular in customer surveys. If we leave the future of Judaism in the hands of marketing experts, challenging rituals like circumcision or Passover or Yom Kippur will be ignored, and we will end up with a smooth syncretistic mumbo jumbo that has no resemblance to our 3,000 year old tradition.

I’m a modern Orthodox rabbi who talks a great deal about the place of Judaism in the 21st century. But increasingly I’ve come to realize that circumcision is incompatible with the times, as is much of Judaism. But Jews should be proud of how different we are. In an era of unprecedented individualism and hedonism, Jews declare that community is critical, even for an eight day old baby. We take pride in a ritual that affirms that sexual desire is not meant to be left unrestrained, but must be shaped by values of fidelity and devotion. When others seek endless comfort, we are willing to say that doing the right thing might be painful, but it’s still worthwhile.

Over the years, I’ve met inspiring people from the Former Soviet Union who performed circumcisions under heroic circumstances. Defying the Communist dictatorship, they would huddle surreptitiously and perform the covenant of Abraham on children of varying ages. The amazing thing is that these Jews in the FSU had no Jewish education whatsoever. But even with only a rudimentary knowledge of Judaism, they understood that being Jewish means going against the current, and being Jewish requires personal sacrifice.

Even though North American Jews enjoy freedom and prosperity, we need to explain to young Jews that they too have to be willing to defy the spirit of the times to be Jewish. After all, Judaism is more than apples, honey and funny little hats.