People die every day / for lack / of what is found there

In one of William Carlos Williams poems he wrote:

It is difficult
to get the news from poems
yet men die every day
for lack
of what is found
there

When I think about how I feel when I am at my best and listening to Rav Michael Rosensweig's shiurim, this poem rings true.

In many, many ways it is difficult for me to get clear information or specific "spiritual" ideas or concepts from Rav Rosensweig's shiurim (i.e. "news"). What I can get from them is something far more important. Something that I would argue "people are dying for every day" -- dying, metaphorically from a loss of meaning, from a loss of creativity and passion.

At their best, poems help us focus on the particulars of our lives and find meaning within them, but we are not supposed to find answers in those poems. Only appreciation and perhaps more questions, but most importantly love -- love of the life we are given.

A few lines from another poem come to mind here. They are from Rilke's Ninth Duino Elegy:

. . . Perhaps we are only here in order to say: house,
bridge, fountain, gate, pitcher, fruit-tree, window—
at most: column, tower … But to say them,
you must understand, oh to say them more intensely than the Things
themselves ever dreamed of existing. (translated by Stephen Mitchell)

Perhaps it is this type of intensity that Rav Rosensweig means when he writes about:

• the "maximalist man of destiny" from his essay "The Spiritual Legacy of Noah and Avraham" or
• a "maximalist halachic lifestyle" from his essay "Chanukah as a Holiday of Idealism and Maximalism"

For Rav Rosensweig it is never a desire to find ways around the halakhah, but only a constant search to understand the "maximalist halachic lifestyle" ever more deeply and broadly. This, I believe, is why his shiurim range throughout the entire range of the Talmud. He is not simply focused on a daf or a mishnah or a gemara, but instead the entire Talmud and all commentaries on in conversation and Rav Rosensweig is always trying to find something new, to discover, a new chiddush, a new creation . . . it is this creativity and intensity that I believe on can connect to the art of poetry.

Rav Rosensweig's writings can be found at http://www.torahweb.org/rosensweig.html

More on saying "Yes" to life, even an "unexciting" one

In the last entry I wrote about how rabbis Singer and Rosensweig and their intense love of the Talmud, Hashem and the Halakhah represent for me individuals and a tradition that profoundly says "Yes" to all that life brings.

This fundamental position is the one that inspires me the most and one that I look for in any tradition or practice that I explore.

Just recently I discovered a new poet, Kenneth Koch. He was a friend and colleague of John Ashbery and part of the so-called New York School of Poetry of which he once said “Maybe you can almost characterize the poetry of the New York School as having as one of its main subjects the fullness and richness of life and the richness of possibility and excitement and happiness.”

To this line I want to say, "Amen."

Yes life is so full and so rich, even if is An Unexciting Life, as the title of one of my favorite books describes it. The book is on Benedictine spirituality and its Introduction begins:

Some years ago I read a quotation from a letter of Gustave Flaubert, creator of Madame Bovary, which could easily serve as a summary of one aspect of the spirituality that stems from the Rule of St. Benedict. As I remember it, the text ran: "Be regular and ordinary in your life, like a bourgeois, so that you may violent and original in your work." What he seems to be be saying is that the price paid for the release of the inner spark of creativity is low impact living: the renunciation of superficial excitement, passive entertainment and mindless celebrity. In other words, exterior dullness is a condition of inner excitement. To describe this happy state I coined the phrase "creative monotony."

For us who live in a sensate society dominated by an appetite for excitement, no matter how vacuous its source, the preferential option for a quiet life may seem a little peculiar. No doubt in the midst of the helter skelter of a busy life, the idea of an oasis of silence has a certain appeal, but relatively few of us seriously consider building into our lives the values by which Benedict lived.

This reluctance derives, in part, from a misunderstanding of the nature of the unexciting life. The serenity envisaged by the Benedictine motto pax (peace) is not the deathly stillness of a stagnant swamp where nothing ever happens, nor is it the lassitude resulting from the abandonment of all ideals and the dodging of every challenge. The outward call, the nurtures inward growth is the fruit of a well disciplined life pursued through many years, and of battle-scarred victory in many struggles."

While everything I know and read about and listen to in regard to a Yeshiva is that they are not places of quiet or serenity, but they are places that offer something very different from the "sensate society dominated by an appetite for excitement, no matter how vacuous its source."

In future posts I will explore what Michael Casey says in An Unexciting Life, as well as other views that say a powerful Yes!

Saying "Yes" to life

While I regularly fight my decision to spend time studying the Talmud. because there are times that I question why I should focus on something so particular, so specific, so Jewish?

Listening to my teachers, Rav Michael Rosensweig and Rav Shlomo Singer, I have a profound respect for who they are and how they conduct their shiurim, however, their focus is entirely on the Jewish community.

Whether it is Rav Singer tirelessly learning Succah with those in his yeshiva or Rav Rosensweig using the Brisker Derech to create innovative interpretations (chiddushiim), I do not fit into their audience, nor do all the problems and struggles of those outside the Jewish community.

But . . . when I listen carefully; when I listen between the words, I can hear a profound "Yes" being shouted and lived by each man:

• a "Yes" to Hashem,
• a "Yes" to Torah lishmah (studying Torah for its own sake),
• a "Yes" to a "maximal religious aspiration" as Rav Rosensweig likes to describe the halachic challenge that the Torah presents,

which together create for me a strong and deep, "Yes" to life and all that life offers -- good and bad.

Super blog -- Hirhurim Musings

A new resource that I found a few months ago is a blog written Rabbi Gil Student. The blog is called "Hirhurim Musings" and can be found at http://hirhurim.blogspot.com/

It is truly an amazing blog that at this moment is adding a variety of new features such as a Parashah Roundup -- a weekly collection of commentaries on the parashah (weekly Torah reading). Rabbi Student is a graduate from Yeshiva University and his audience is an Orthodox one. While I, of course, am not Orthodox, whenever I read his words, I sense a true warmth and humility, as well as a fundamental desire to love Hashem through study and sharing his study.

R' Student describes an "important policy" for his site as "This blog is intended only for the interchange of ideas for the purpose of Torah study, promoting enlightened public policy and/or the refinement of character." In particular, I sense this focus on a refinement of character his work.

The traffic on the site is also amazing -- it is not uncommon for there to be over 100 comments per entry, some from such well known Orthodox writers as Lawrence Kaplan and Arnie Lustiger.

I cannot recommend this blog highly enough.

I am back. I hope for a while

In a comment to my last post from February 2007, anonymous asked, "are you ever coming back?"

Since blogging doesn't come simply to me, especially about a topic such as the Talmud, it is much easier for me to not blog, than to blog. But just knowing that someone is reading these words energizes me to pick up where I left off.

Thanks to all who read these pages . . .