Torah Lishmah -- New Course by VBM

I have written about "Torah Lishmah" (Torah study for its own sake) in other posts. It is a concept that I really love.

Starting today, the Virtual Beit Midrash is offering a class entitled, "Torah Lishmah - A New Horizon" by Rav Elyakim Krumbein -- http://vbm-torah.org/archive/lishmah/01lishmah.htm

I really look forward to it and cannot recommend it enough. In the course Rav Krumbein will be dealing with one of my favorite Orthodox works of commentary -- Rabbi Dr. Norman Lamm’s work, Torah Lishmah: Torah for Torah’s Sake in the Works of Rabbi Hayyim of Volozhin and his Contemporaries.

In the opening shiur Rav Krumbein quotes Rav Shagar z”l, "One who is not prepared to be part of that tradition and thinks he can begin the Torah by himself, one who is not prepared to reach that intimacy with the world of Torah and with Judaism, one who wants to be an individualist and remain alienated, and study like a 'maskil' – he will never be a ben Torah."

In the footnote to this quote, Rav Krumbein writes, "These words were written by a man who is regarded as a most original thinker and lamdan, despite the tension that he faced between creativity and fealty to tradition, as mentioned in that book." This description makes me want to learn more about Rav Shagar.

What I find interesting is that in David Brooks' Op-Ed column in the New York Times today, entitled, "What Life Asks of Us" he wrote, "In this way of living [living within institutions], to borrow an old phrase, we are not defined by what we ask of life. We are defined by what life asks of us." He goes on to describe how the push toward individualism has degraded and devalued this approach.

For me the words from Rav Shagar and David Brooks resonate together and challenge me to listen.

"Postmodern" Chagigah 3b?

Chagigah 3b

THE WORDS OF THE WISE ARE LIKE GOADS, AND LIKE NAILS WELL PLANTED [ARE THE SAYINGS] OF THE MASTERS OF ASSEMBLIES, GIVEN FROM ONE SHEPHERD [Ecclesiastes 12:11]. WHY ARE THE WORDS OF TORAH LIKENED TO A GOAD? TO TEACH YOU that JUST AS THIS GOAD DIRECTS THE COW ALONG ITS FURROWS IN ORDER TO BRING FORTH LIFE TO THE WORLD, SO TOO, THE WORDS OF TORAH DIRECT THEIR STUDENTS FROM THE PATHS OF DEATH TO THE PATHS OF LIFE. IF the words of Torah are likened to a goad, one might think that JUST AS THIS GOAD IS MOVABLE, SO TOO, THE WORDS OF TORAH ARE MOVABLE. To teach otherwise SCRIPTURE STATES: like NAILS. But IF the words of Torah are likened to nails, one might think that JUST AS THIS NAIL DIMINISHES AND DOES NOT INCREASE the object or wall into which it is driven, SO TOO, THE WORDS OF TORAH DIMINISH AND DO NOT INCREASE those who observe them. To teach otherwise SCRIPTURE STATES: WELL PLANTED. That is, JUST AS THIS PLANT IS FRUITFUL AND MULTIPLIES, SO TOO, THE WORDS OF TORAH cause one to be FRUITFUL AND MULTIPLY.

R'Elazar ben Azaryah continues to expound upon the verse Ecclesiastes, which now speaks metaphorically: THE MASTERS OF ASSEMBLIES -- THESE ARE THE WISE SCHOLARS WHO SIT IN VARIOUS GROUPS AND OCCUPY themselves WITH the study of TORAH. There are THOSE scholars who DECLARE a thing ritually CONTAMINATED AND there are THOSE who PRONOUNCE it CLEAN; THOSE who PROHIBIT AND THOSE who PERMIT; THOSE who DISQUALIFY AND THOSE who DECLARE FIT. PERHAPS A MAN WILL SAY: HOW CAN I EVER LEARN TORAH and understand it precisely, when every issue is subject to debate and disagreement? To allay this concern, SCRIPTURE STATES that ALL the various Rabbinic opinions are GIVEN FROM ONE SHEPHERD. ONE GOD GAVE THEM; ONE LEADER PROCLAIMED THEM FROM THE MOUTH OF THE MASTER OF ALL MATTERS, BLESSED IS HE, AS IS WRITTEN, AND GOD SPOKE ALL THESE WORDS. Hence, YOU TOO MAKE YOUR EAR LIKE A MILL-HOPPER, AND ACQUIRE FOR YOURSELF A DISCERNING HEART TO HEAR intelligently THE WORDS OF THOSE WHO DECLARE a thing IMPURE AND THE WORDS OF THOSE WHO PRONOUNCE it PURE; THE WORDS OF THOSE WHO PROHIBIT AND THE WORDS OF THOSE WHO PERMIT; AND THE WORDS OF THOSE WHO DISQUALIFY AND THE WORDS OF THOSE WHO DECLARE FIT.

Just a few lines later is this wonderful question from R' Eliezer:

WHAT NOVEL TEACHING [HIDDUSH] WAS expounded IN THE STUDY HALL TODAY?

These fabulous words from Chagigah 3b are seemingly 1400 years ahead of their time as they seemingly present a postmodern view of multiple meanings. But I belive that the Talmud is able to walk this fine line far better than the postmodern philosophies that emerged in the 20th century. Most of these philosophies have left of with a seemingly meaningless world, while the Talmud intends and succeeds to leave us with an infinitely meaningful world.

Rav Michael Rosensweig in his essay, Personal Initiative and Creativity in 'Avodat Hashem, discusses this passage from Chagigah and the Maharal's discussion of this issue and he writes:

In essence then, what emerges from the Maharal once again, is the doctrine of multiple truths, significant especially outside the area of pesak, and related to individual intellect and the capacity of each individual to discern the complexity and subtlety which exists in every aspect of life.

Still, how is it possible for there to be multiple truths, but only one pesak? The Maharal argues that while there may be multiple truths, all truths are not equal. Life is complex and everything created does obtain of more than one combination of different components. So, for example, it is possible for an object to possess a sense of tum'ah, but its sense of taharah overwhelms the tum'ah.

Happy New Year -- May your 2009 be filled with peace, love and joy and many new discoveries and hiddushim.

Talmud as love letter

Some more early thoughts about the Talmud:

A story about Rav Soloveitchik says that he said he learned the most important thing in life from his mother – “to feel the presence of the Almighty and the gentle pressure of God’s resting upon my frail shoulders.”

Thoughts of the day during my reading of the Talmud: 1) I am amazed at the enormous effort that is spent to try to understand and live out the rules set down by God. This is about what happens when someone enters a house that is afflicted with impurity, which can make one tamei – impure.

But if HE WAS WEARING HIS GARMENTS AND HIS SHOES WERE ON HIS FEET AND HIS RINGS WERE ON HIS FINGER – then HE BECOMES TAMEI [impure] IMMEDIATELY. – BUT THEY [his garments, shoes and rings] REMAIN TAHOR [pure] UNTIL HE LINGERS in the house THE AMOUNT OF TIME THAT IT TAKES TO EAT A HALF-LOAF – of WHEAT BREAD RATHER THAN BARLEY BREAD – eaten while he is RECLINING AND EATING, the bread together WITH a RELISH.

Rashi’s commentary then says, “The ‘half-loaf’ is the amount of bread a person normally eats at one meal, for the reference is to a standard two-meal loaf . . . Wheat bread is eaten more quickly
than barley bread, and that which is eaten in a reclining position is eaten quickly, since the person concentrates fully on the food and does not divert his attention to other things. Similarly, eating the bread together with a relish hastens its consumption.”

When I view these efforts, often torturous efforts, to understand and “follow” the rules “correctly,” I sometimes think how could a loving God want people to struggle so much to understand and in so many cases “fear” God and God’s commandments?

Yet, what struck me today, was that I could also see these struggles as the attempt of a lover to decipher and understand and cherish a love letter. If one sees the Torah (Written and Oral) as this love letter from God, which is not simple and not perfectly clear because of the human agents necessary to create it [and I now would add -- because of the importance that Hashem placed on creativity] – then these struggles to interpret, to understand, to live out – are expressions of profound love and faithfulness.

Then when we study in this way and strive to hang onto every word, every nuance, every clue – these are the efforts of the lover striving to please and love his/her beloved.

It seems to me additional profundity comes when one can also see all of creation and each moment as another Torah, another opportunity to understand and respond to the actions and messages of our beloved.

Early notes about my first volume of the Talmud

A number of years ago I was keeping a fairly regular journal and tonight when I was looking for some quotes about the Talmud, found this that made me smile. So I thought I would share it:

I just got my first volume of the Talmud in the mail yesterday -- and this tractate is about kosher and non-kosher animals at a truly "talmudic" level -- the first page of the tractate I have is about whether an animal is okay to eat if it has been born during the kosher slaughtering process. Why do I care, not being Jewish or keeping kosher? What fasicinates me is sitting with Rebbes as they discuss and struggle to understand God's intentions. Their striving and struggling is so determined, so serious, so multi-sided that it is a marvel to dwell within this atmosphere of debate and dialogue.

For them God is truly present and interested in every element and moment of life.

"Pray continually" with the help of my iPod and Rav Rosensweig

It has been a long time since I have posted anything, which hopefully I will comment on later. I just had the idea this morning about the concept of "praying continually," which comes from Paul's 1 Thessalonians 5:17, but resonates with most religious traditions I believe.

For example, I believe the Zen tradition encourages a being present in the moment, whether one is walking or driving or doing the dishes, which has a sense of "praying continually."

But I want to talk about how listening to Rav Michael Rosensweig can help me accomplish this -- at least striving to be present to devar Hashem at many moments (even if not "continually"). I often begin listening to the Gittin class first thing in the morning and then on the way to work and back home again, and any time I go for a walk or do various chores around the house. While I should certainly give the shiurim more focused and concentrated time, I find having Rav Rosensweig's analysis and creativity with me so much is quite rewarding.

I have tried to find other sources of this type of constant inspiration or exploration, but have found works like the Catholic Divine Office, which contains prayer, song and reading, as something that just doesn't connect with me. I have also listened to many other talks from the Buddhist tradition, but for me they lack the passion and creativity of the Rav Rosensweig's shiurim. I have even tried philosophy lectures on iTunes U or poetry from Pennsound, but they don't give me that constant, non-stop drive.

While there are obviously, many, many other shiurim on http://www.yutorah.org/, I must declare that Rav Rosensweig is my Rebbe. And like te tradition states, I can learn much from simply being around the rebbe (of course for me, "being around" is been 5,000 miles away and listening on my iPod). Simply listening to the energy and the non-stop exploration, creativity and the commitment to a maximalist spirituality, I learn much and am inspired much.

Infinite and wonderful life

In his editorial entitled, "The Luxurious Growth" from July 15, 2008, New York Times columnist, David Brooks writes:

[S]cience finds itself enmeshed with social science and the humanities in what researchers call the Gloomy Prospect, the ineffable mystery of why people do what they do.

The prospect may be gloomy for those who seek to understand human behavior, but the flip side is the reminder that each of us is a Luxurious Growth. Our lives are not determined by uniform processes. Instead, human behavior is complex, nonlinear and unpredictable. The Brave New World is far away. Novels and history can still produce insights into human behavior that science can’t match.

...

This age of tremendous scientific achievement has underlined an ancient philosophic truth — that there are severe limits to what we know and can know; that the best political actions are incremental, respectful toward accumulated practice and more attuned to particular circumstances than universal laws.

In reading these lines this morning, I could not help but think of the seemingly infinite openness that is the basis of Talmud study as I have slowly learned--an openness that does not allow an "anything goes" type of interpretation or implementation, but one that encourages and nurtures creativity and personal initiative.

Within our finite limits and the infinite possibilities that our imaginations and creativity can produce, we are challenged with the task to strive to build and develop an in-depth, heartfelt relationship with Hashem, with Hakadosh Barukh Hu, with God. We are challenged to find the truth of our lives. It is also my profound belief that that play of poetry, at its best, can also help forge and develop this relationship and help develop this truth.

The philosopher David Michael Levin, who I quote it my essay on the poet Charles Olson, compares this more open sense of truth (in contrast to truth as correctness) that only can emerge is the space of this type of openness:

In poetizing discourse, both sound and sense require a theory of truth which understands and appreciates their ‘ecstatic’ play within an open field. In the phonological dimension, there must be a field for the play of sounds: echoes, resonances, overtones and undertones, onomatopeia, polyphony, emotionally evocative sounds. Similarly, in its semantic dimension, the dimension of signifiers, there must be a field for the play of meanings: ambiguities, allusions, metaphors, shades of meaning, adumbrations of what is to come. Truth as correctness, truth represented in the discourse of statements, assertions, propositions, cannot do justice to the interactive processes essential to poetizing discourse. Truth as aletheia can, because it is hermeneutical: it lets sound and sense play in the interplay of presence and absence, identity and difference. To the poetizing process, the process of bringing experience as it takes shape into words that further shape it, aletheia gives a multi-dimensional field in which to unfold. (437)

Aletheia is the Greek word for truth that Heidegger defined as "unconcealing" and which in some way to my mind expresses the work of Talmud Torah and the creativity that underlies it.

More on multivalence . . . the heart of lomdus

In a recent comment to a post, a good friend wrote:

"Multi-valent" is a good, strong word, though I prefer "particulate", in the sense Blake meant when he referred to 'reality' as made up of "Minute Particulars" . . . Particulars can be collected -- and we don't pick flowers-in-general, we pick these daisies in front of us here and now.

I believe his description of particulars is an important one for each of us to remember in our day-to-day lives as we interact with all the individuals (persons and things) in our lives and strive not to simply generalize or categorize our encounters.

However, for me "multi-valent" has a different meaning. It points to the nearly infinite number of meanings and chiddushim that Rav Rosensweig can seemingly discover within a sugya. It refers to what Shalom Carmy calls "polyphonic diversity" in his essay entitled, "Polyphonic Diversity and Military Music," from Lomdus: The Conceptual Approach to Jewish Learning, edited by Yosef Blau.

Rabbi Carmy opens his essay with these sentences from the Arukh ha-Shulhan, Hoshen Mishpat:

Indeed it is the glory of our holy, pure Torah, for the entire Torah is called a song (shirah) and the glory song is when the voices vary; that is the primary pleasantness. Whoever sets sail in the sea of Talmud will discover varied melodic pleasure in all the varied voices.

A student who is comfortable with the polyphonic world of the Talmud is also comfortable with complexity and ambiguity, and does not seek simple answers, because in the end they do not exist. Rabbi Calmy writes:

Typical of the polyphonic consciousness is the Rav's assertion that when human beings are faced with many crucial dilemmas and orientations of value, Halakhah "tries to help man in such critical moments," but does not provide a formulaic "synthesis, since the latter does not exist."

It is this type of student who appreciates what Rabbi Calmy calls, "the infinite challenge that defines the human endeavor to study Torah."

To help me better understand what lomdus is and how it is lived out, I found this essay on the internet entitled, Humility and Halakah: Placing Derekh Ha-Limud in Perspective, by Rabbi Doniel Schreiber.

At first he describes various types of iyun or lomdus (in-depth gemara study) this way:

• One end of the spectrum, reflective of classic iyun found in Ge'onic times, would place the elucidation of texts as its main goal. All questions and analyses, in this approach, aim to arrive at a better understanding of the texts.
• On the other end of the spectrum, reflective of more contemporary lomdus, is the attempt to understand concepts by classifying, conceptualizing and defining halakhic matter.
• In the middle of the spectrum, one finds a more balanced system embracing both the importance of text and the centrality of concept. The text generates analysis of concepts, while concepts shed light upon new ways of reading text.

He then defines lomdus practiced by Rav Rosensweigh in the following manner;

More recently, mori ve-rabi HaRav Michael Rosensweig shlita, Rosh Yeshiva at Yeshiva University, has catapulted iyun into a new sphere of analysis. It demands, on the one extreme, a microscopic approach. This entails an exhaustive, comprehensive, and often tedious sifting of the most subtle halakhic minutiae and the most seemingly trivial detail. On the other extreme, it requires one to ascend to a macroscopic perspective, in which one, taking into consideration a wealth of sugyot revolving around a broad issue, peers downward upon the sweeping, halakhic landscape. This method, in essence, expands Brisker analysis to the farthest reaches of both ends of the sugya.

These two polar extremes, rigorous scrutiny and panoramic vision, when concomitantly implemented, enable one to integrate and interpret all forms of nuances and detail into the landscape of the sugya in the broadest sense of the term - the meta-sugya.* For example, elements of halakha associated with the process of beit din (courts) may shed light on how to understand the broader concept of din (Jewish civil law); details in the topic of eidim zomemim (false witnesses) could reflect on the larger picture of eidim and eidut (witnesses and testimony); minutiae in the discussion of gittin (bills of divorce), might clarify the wider topic of shtarot (legal documents). The incessant and rigorous investigation of a detail's relationship to the meta-sugya is the hallmark of this system. To some degree, this may represent the pinnacle of lomdus and the Brisker derekh.

*I use the term meta-sugya to refer to mori ve-rabi HaRav Rosensweig's emphasis on analyzing classic sugyot and then treating each of them as a detail within a broader enveloping sugya, which in turn may become a detail in an even broader sugya, and so on.

I am proud to say that I have listened to many of Rav Rosensweig's shiurim in which he has done very similar to the ones described above . . . they truly are quite a ride.

As Rabbi Schreiber continues in the his essay, he also speaks of some of the benefits and reasons for taking such an approach:

When one is involved in conceptual analysis of sugyot, reaching great depths of understanding, one achieves a genuinely rich sense of satisfaction. While this is partially due to the fact that one is involved in the important and basic mitzva to learn Torah, it is largely because one is engaged in something that is the most meaningful and penetrating experience as humanly possible. It is the endeavor, in our never-ending pursuit to draw close to God, to understand Divine intent.

The only real way finite man has to reach God is to be involved in what God has revealed to us. This, to be sure, includes performance of mitzvot, but especially pertains to talmud Torah, because talmud Torah is THE embodiment of the will of God. While thrashing out questions of kinyanei geneiva (theft law) is not as obvious a method of bringing one closer to God as learning the laws of avodat Hashem is, it accomplishes it as effectively.

Although one may be serious about talmud Torah, if one does not relate to this experience, if one is not animated by it, one cannot be passionate about learning Torah. Anyone who is really passionate about his learning, to the extent that he is actually consumed by, and excessive in, his talmud Torah - not just that he derives a certain pleasure from it - has certainly, whether consciously or not, encountered the Shekhina.

As well as these:

Success [in lomdus], inasmuch as there are always new facts, new definitions and new situations, lies in the ability to perceive new concepts in new facts, to penetrate to their meaning as much as possible, and apply them to new situations. This is the pursuit of Divine intent and its inner logic.

and these:

It is important to keep in mind throughout that lomdus is not a formal method which merely requires a series of steps, nor is it an artificial process consisting of stale categories of thought. Rather, lomdus is a response to internal stimuli; one must always endeavor to be creative, open to nuances, formulations, and shifting winds - flexibility is critical. Thus, while these tools are useful, one must not let them dull sensitivity and constrict creativity.

Lomdus, when successfully implemented, allows one to respond to sugyot with intuitive precision and depth of understanding.

and finally these:

A skillful lamdan, thus, transforms the passive absorption of information into an encounter, an engagement with devar Hashem.

To learn more about this approach I came upon this recorded shiurim by Rav Rosensweig, which I intend to listen to shortly: Derekh HaLimud 1 (11/21/05) and Derekh HaLimud 2 (11/28/05).

In a few words, I guess I am drawn to the profound ability and desire to find infinite depths in the finite world around us. While my good friend Gary's words opened this post, about the importance of the particulars around us, which certainly holds much truth, I cannot help but think that a lamdan, might see the same flowers that Gary speaks about and immediately ask him or herself, halakhic questions regarding its permissability to be eaten or planted or uprooted on Shabbat, etc.

To close this too long post, I want to share some quotes from Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik's Halakhic Man:

When a fruit is growing, halakhic man measures the fruit with the standards of growth and ripening that he possesses: budding stage, early stage of ripening, formation of fruits or leaves, and reaching one-third of complete ripeness. He gazes at colors and determines their quality: distinguishes between green and yellow, blue and white, etc., etc., “between blood and blood, between affection and ffection” (Deut 17:8) p21

There is no real phenomenon to which halakhic man does not possess a fixed relationship from the outset and a clear, definitive, a priori orientation. . . . The Halakhah encompasses laws of business, torts, neighbors, plaintiff and defendant, creditor and debtor, partners, agents, workers, artisans, bailees, etc. p22

When his soul yearns for God, he immerses himself in reality, plunges, with his entire being, into the very midst of concrete existence, and petitions God to descend upon the mountain and to dwell within our reality, with all its laws and principles. Homo religiosus ascends to God; God, however, descends to halakhic man. The latter desires not to transform finitude into infinity but rather infinity into finitude. p45

The study of the Torah is not a means to another end, but is the end point of all desires. It is the most fundamental principle of all. p87

Charles Olson, poetry and multivalence

A number of years ago I wrote an essay for a modern poetry class. The topic was Charles Olson and what I called a "Polis of Attention and Dialogue."

I have been silent on this blog for almost a month now for many reasons, but thinking about what I wanted to say, I returned to this essay, which tried to described the multivalent (many meanings) nature of Olson's poetry and in turn the multivalent nature of our world. And I believe that it is my interest in the viewpoint that drew me to the Talmud's multivalence, and why I have been attracted to it over time.

I thought I would share a number of paragraphs from the essay, the whole piece can be found here.

Charles Olson’s Maximus: A Polis of Attention and Dialogue

Don Byrd in his Charles Olson’s Maximus says this about Olson’s interest in more traditional academic work, “His problem was simple: how does the writer manage to finish a project when every day he discovers information which changes the entire picture?”. This is how I feel about my own work with Charles Olson, every page of Maximus seems to open new angles on Olson, on the world, on reality and on myself.

What draws me to Olson’s work is his ability to hold in tension two apparently opposing messages. The first is that “life is strangled by systems” (Christensen 212) and the second is the importance of “making a mappemunde” that includes his “being” (Olson M II 87). While Olson clearly desires to join with Nietzsche and others in toppling the “whole line of life that makes Delphi that center,” (Butterick 7) he does not simply create a mass of ruins. Rather, he takes those ruins and creates a mythology and cosmology out of them. However, these creations are not a Ptolemaic system of perfect circles. Instead, it is a wild, open, becoming, creative, imaginative, unfinished mythology that asks readers for their attention and participation.

A example in nature of this process of both destruction and creation is a terminal moraine–the geological deposits left at the end of a glacier’s journey. It contains everything that the glacier consumed in its path. This image works on many levels with Maximus. First, on a literal level, the section of Gloucester known as Dogtown is actually a “terminal moraine” as Olson says in “Maximus from Downtown–I.” Second, Maximus, itself, can be seen as a terminal moraine created by the movement of Charles Olson–a glacier of a man, whose interests included:

Hopi language, Mayan statuary, non-Euclidean geometry, Melville’s fiction, the austere thought structures in Whitehead’s philosophy, the fragmentaary remains of the Sumerian and Hittite civilizations, Norse, Greek, and Egyptian mythology, numerology and the Tarot, the history of human migration, naval and economic history, the etymology of common words, pre-Socratic philosophy, the historical origins of the New England colonies, the development of the fishing industry off the coast of Massachusetts, accounts of the conquest of Mexico, the collapse of the Aztec and Mayan civilizations. (Christensen 5-6)

Finally, the image of the terminal moraine also resonates with the view of the mythologist, Joseph Campbell, who used this image as a description of the state of myth in our time. Campbell imagined that individuals in the twentieth century were standing on a terminal moraine containing the fragments of thousands of years of myth. And from this great treasure chest of myth he encouraged individuals to create their own personal mythology by picking and choosing from what lies about them. It is with a similar sentiment that Olson writes Maximus.

. . .

Heidegger’s work is immense and extremely complex, but if one turns to his essay on “The Origin of the Work of Art,” one can find some interesting descriptions of truth and the role of the artist in the revelation of that truth. The essential aspect of truth for Heidegger is “unhiddenness,” which Heidegger uncovers within the traditional Greek term for truth, aletheia. It is this sense of truth that Heidegger refers to when he writes,

The art work opens up in its own way the Being of beings. This opening up, i.e., this deconcealing, i.e., the truth of beings, happens in the work. In the art work, the truth of what is has set itself to work. Art is truth setting itself to work. (390)

For Heidegger, art creates an opening out of which truth is unconcealed. Thus, for Heidegger, much like Olson, truth emerges in the openness of a field created by art, by poetry. In a passage that seemingly could have come from Olson, we hear Heidegger say,

What poetry, as illuminating projection, unfolds of unconcealedness and projects ahead into the design of the figure, is the Open which poetry lets happen, and indeed in such a way that only now, in the midst of beings, the Open brings beings to shine and ring out. (72)

Reality, being, truth only emerge in the Open, not within the confines of a clearly delineated system of classification and identification, which stagnates life. The nature of the Open allows for the freedom of creation necessary to bring art to life­–an art not of measure and control, but one of freedom and creativity:

The more poetic a poet is–the freer (that is, the more open and ready for the unforeseen) his saying–the greater is the purity with which he submits what he says to an ever more painstaking listening, and the further what he says is from the mere propositional statement that is dealt with solely in regard to its correctness or incorrectness. (216)

In this passage from “‘. . . Poetically Man Dwells . . .’” Heidegger could have been talking about Maximus, since it certainly requires a “painstaking listening” and cannot be judged on a basis of “correctness or incorrectness.” It also clearly relates to the nature of reality that Olson is striving to give voice to and create a space for–a reality that demands “painstaking listening” and “eyes,” and cannot simply be measured, organized or classified.

. . .

Olson does not simply tell his readers "to find out for yourself." Instead, he forces them to make those discoveries on their own. He does not provide simple answers or solutions. How could he, if he truly believed in the centrality of process and the fluidity of absolutes? By using unorthodox sentence structures, incomplete statements, obscure references, original layout techniques, Olson forces readers to engage the text in an attentive, conversational, dialogical manner in which new meaning is created in the opening of the poem. One cannot assume that the next word will follow from the previous. Each word has to be attended to and given the space to play. Readers must work; they must use their eyes, ears, breath and bodies to engage the text. If they do not pay careful attention to the text and its nuances and participate in a open, transforming dialogue with it, then they will miss its meaning completely, and will fail to create the “polis of the self” (Christensen ix) that it challenges them to create. Eniko Bollobas describes the participatory nature of reading Olson in the following way:

The rich texture of Olson’s poem demands a participatory (creative) reading from the reader rather than “literate” passive listening. Also, it demands from this reader a certain openness and a willingness to resist and ignore prior expectations, preconceptions, prejudices, and routines of apprehension. The multivalent text, the text characterized by free syntactic and semantic valencies, seems a more faithful transcript of the creative moment, and at the same time promises a more active, activating reading experience. (62)

Olson, in fact, gives readers a hint on how to engage his text by how he uses texts within Maximus. Olson makes the texts he reads (e.g. an Algonquin legend in M II, 21) his own by incorporating them into his poem. He may change a word or two, but that is all. However, the new context Olson creates for the story gives it new meanings of which the Algonquins probably never dreamed. Through juxtaposition with other stories and repetition (Olson repeats this legend in M II 142) the meaning of the story is unleashed from its indigenous roots and allowed to float within the readers’ lives where it can possibly plant new roots. In this way Olson demonstrates that reading is not a passive process, but is an active and integrative process in which readers are challenged to unleash Maximus and make it their own in order to give “daily life itself a dignity and a sufficiency” (Christensen ix).

Even the incompleteness of Maximus, which was only gathered together in its current form after Olson's death, provides yet another entrance, another challenge for the reader. In some ways Maximus begs for the reader to complete it. Or perhaps more correctly expressed, to continue it. By engaging the text and attempting to continue it, to make it their own, readers become part of an ongoing conversation, a never-ending process of creating a “mappemunde” out of the terminal moraine on which they dwell.

Teaching Torah to non-Jews . . . a dilemma

In a recent post on Hirhurim Musings, Rabbi Student kindly referenced my interview in the Commentator. In the comments about the interview, the issue of teaching Torah to non-Jews was raised. You can read the short post here and the comments here. Note that only some of the comments to this post deal with my Commentator interview.

In one of the comments, Professor Lawrence Kaplan makes reference to J. David Bleich writing on this issue. After a quick google search, I found that Rabbi Bleich had written on the issue in Tradition magazine in 1980 (I assume that this is the essay Prof. Kaplan was referencing).

In reading through the article (I have included quotes below), it seems that at least instruction on the seven Noahide laws should not be a problem or concern. What is interesting is that one of the things that I have learned from Rabbi Shlomo Singer's shiurim is that you can't divide up the Talmud. He is fond of saying, it is "one page" -- all sections, all issues are interconnected. While I haven't heard Rabbi Rosensweig say this, certainly in how he moves throughout the entire Talmud in nearly every shiur, he seems to make the same case.

With all this in mind, I must admit I feel justified in continuing my exploration and study, particularly since I do feel it helps me look at everyday life with new eyes, while at the same time helping me come closer to God, by coming closer to the Torah.

Below are some quotes from the opening and closing pages of J. David Bleich's, "Survey of Recent Halakhic Periodical Literature: Teaching Torah to Non-Jews" (Tradition, 18 (2), Summar 1980.

The prohibition against teaching Torah to non-Jews is well known to students of Jewish law. Equally well known is the role of Abraham as the "father of the multitude of nations," entrusted with the sacred task of carrying the teaching of monotheism to idolatrous peoples. A person unfamiliar with the extensive rabbinical literature devoted to this topic may perceive a certain tension, and perhaps even contradiction, between a recognized need to disseminate religious truths and an almost xenophobic reluctance to share the greatest repository of such truth—the Torah. Yet even a cursory examination of the relevant sources dispels the notion that while the community of Israel jealously guards its spiritual wealth, it refuses to share these riches with others. On the contrary, it is unique among Western religions in its willingness to share its teachings without seeking to impose its observations. This necessarily involves a vocation of teaching despite the stricture against teaching Torah to non-Jews. The latter, while based on substantive philosophical considerations and of definite halachic import, admits of sufficiently broad exclusions to assure that Israel remains true to its role as a lamp unto the nations. p192

In the medieval period no less a personage than Rambam entirely Christianity from this prohibition, while in the last century Rabbi Israel Salanter, the acclaimed founder of the Mussar movement, actually mounted a campaign for the incorporation of talmudic studies in the curricula of European schools and universities. p193

It seems to this writer that, while there exists no obligation to volunteer information (although it may well be laudable to do so), there is an obligation to respond to a request for information. Jews are commanded to disseminate Torah as widely as possible among their fellow Jews, but there is no obligation to seize the initiative in teaching the seven commandments to Noachides. Nevertheless, when information or advice is solicited there is a definite obligation to respond. When the non-Jew take the initiative in posing a query, the Jew must respond to the best of his ability. p203

Despite the absence of a specific obligation to influence non-Jews to abide by the provisions of the Noachide Code, the attempt to do so is entirely legitimate. Apart from our universal concern, fear lest “the world becomes corrupt,” as Rambam puts it, is also very much a matter of Jewish concern and self-interest. Disintegration of the moral fabric of society affects everyone. Particularly in our age we can not insulate ourselves against the pervasive cultural forces that mold human conduct. Jews have every interest in promoting a positive moral climate.

Accordingly, Jews should certainly not hesitate to make the teachings of Judaism as they bear on contemporary mores more readily accessible to fellow citizens. That is the most direct means available to us for exercising a positive influence in improving the more atmosphere in which we all live. p203

My Talmud set is complete -- returning to the beginning

I recently picked up the final volumes of the 73-volume Artscroll Schottenstein English Edition Talmud Bavli from my mother's house in the US. Since I live in Switzerland and with the increase in shipping costs from Artscroll's European distributer, I have usually had volumes sent to my Mom and then picked them up during my bi-annual visits.

I had been slowly adding tractates for about three years and am finally finished, which in many ways is clearly both anend and a beginning. Rather mystically, this would have been the last time I could pick books up at my Mom's, since she actually passed away in April at the wonderful age of 88 and having lived what she often called "a wonderful life." So, when I was in town for the funeral I was able to complete my Bavli. I had placed my final order in December, never knowing what would follow.

For me completing this set and finally having the whole sea of the Talmud to swim in gave me the idea to return to one of the earliest posts in this blog. In it I share the 11 points that at the time I wrote about concerning why I was studying the Talmud. I wanted to see what I thought of them now after a little over three years of exploration.

Here is what I wrote:

I find the Talmud:

1. a work of unimaginable dedication and commitment to God.
2. a work focused on the particular day-to-day, moment-to-moment elements that make up life (obviously also many moments that don't make up my life -- temple sacrifices, etc.). It truly seems to avoid abstraction and focus on the particular.
3. a work that accepts discord and multi-valent views of the world.
4. a work that is basically INFINITE in its scope and depth and diversity.
5. a work that stimulates intense interest today and has for 1500 years.
6. a work that connects to the past and holds within it the explanations and explorations of God's will that have continued for over 2000 years.
7. a work that can help me focus on and recognize the ever-present nature of God.
8. a work of great creativity and imagination that can help stretch my mind.
9. a work of which the study is a holy possibility and opportunity.
10. a work that screams, shouts, contemplates and argues this basic fact -- "We are commanded!" This is something I deeply believe.
11. a work large enough (a true sea) to welcome even an outsider in, who simply wants to enter and learn out of love

In looking at these points after three years, I think they are all still valid. Though, one additional point that I would add now is the importance and centrality of creativity and chiddushim to Talmud Torah. And it is this encouragement of creativity that I truly find so inspiring and challenging, and which Rabbi Rosensweig writes about in the article, "Personal Initiative In Avodat Hashem," from the Torah u-Madda Journal. I hope to post on this article soon.

Over this time, I have, I must admit, frequently lost the drive and push to continue my study. At times, it seems too irrelevant to me, too caught up in details on issues don't touch my life, too much work, etc.

But I return again and again, I recently began again to listen to the daily Daf Yomi talks from CD Shas and still try to listen to Rav Rosensweig's classes as often as possible.

As the Bavli warns, studying alone is not easy, though I don't feel completely alone since the wonderful YU Torah resource provides so many shiurim.

Creativity . . . the purpose of the universe?

In other posts (here, here and here), I have written specifically about the importance of creativity. Today, I want to try again. As the title declares, the questions I want to ask are:

• Is creativity the purpose of the universe?
  
• Is creativity our purpose?
  
• Is the universe fundamentally creative?
  
• If so, are we?
  

In this post I will share quotes from two writers, who I believe would have a wonderful time talking and exploring together, even though their they come from very different perspectives. I will share quotes from Dr. Stuart Kauffman and Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik.

Dr. Kauffman is director of the Institute for Biocomplexity and Informatics at the University of Calgary and is a professor in the departments of Biological Sciences and Physics and Astronomy at the university. More can be found out here.

The YU website has a short bio of Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik here. The last line simply says, "was the most influential figure associated with the spread of Torah in America, and he was singularly known as “the Rav.”

While I enjoy the holistic view of Dr. Kauffman, I must admit that I find the Rav's view more inviting and a more tangible invitation to create on my own and to turn my day-to-day life into one filled with meaning and creativity.

Stuart Kauffman from Reinventing the Sacred draft (a book to be released in May)

Thus, beyond the new science that glimmers a new world view, we have a new view of God, not as transcendent, not as an agent, but as the very creativity of the universe itself. This God brings with it a sense of oneness, unity, with all of life, and our planet — it expands our consciousness and naturally seems to lead to an enhanced potential global ethic of wonder, awe, responsibility within the bounded limits of our capacity, for all of life and its home, the Earth, and beyond as we explore the Solar System.

The third, rather astonishing theme that is emerging in this new world view is that the biosphere and human culture are ceaselessly creative in ways that are fundamentally unpredictable and presumably non-algorithmic or machine like.

I want God to mean the vast ceaseless creativity of the only universe we know of, ours. What do we gain by using the God word? I suspect a great deal, for the word carries with it awe and reverence. If we can transfer that awe and reverence, not to the transcendental Abrahamic God of my Israelite tribe long ago, but to the stunning reality that confronts us, we will grant permission for a renewed spirituality, and awe, reverence and responsibility for all that lives, for the planet.

Stuart Kauffman -- Investigations

'Forever Creative' -- "In this chapter I have been trying to say, argue, articulate the possibility that a biosphere is profoundly generative--somehow fundamentally always creative. The cornerstone of this dawning new conviction lies in the belief I now hold with some confidence that we cannot finitely prestate the configuration space of a biosphere." 135

Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik -- Halakhic Man

“Only man is capable of creative interpretation (hiddush), something which is beyond the power of angels, for since the Holy One, blessed be He, created them in a state of perfection, they need not and, therefore, cannot develop and progress. But this is not the case with man, for he progresses and his intellect gains ever-increasing strength. . . . The essence of the Torah is intellectual creativity. 82

Halakhic man is a man who longs to create, to bring into being something new, something original. The study of Torah, by definition, means gleaning new, creative insights from the Torah (hiddushei Torah). 99

Man’s task is to “fashion, engrave, attach, and create,” and transform the emptiness in being into a perfect and holy existence, bearing the imprint of the divine name. 101

If a man wishes to attain the rank of holiness, he must become a creator of world. If a man never creates, never brings into being anything new. anything original, then he cannot be holy unto his God. 108

The most fundamental principle of all is that man must create himself. It is this idea that Judaism introduced into the world. 109

And halakhic man, whose voluntaristic nature we have established earlier, is, indeed, a free man. He creates an ideal world, renews his own being and transforms himself into a man of God, dreams about the complete realization of the Halakhah in the very core of the world, and looks forward to the kingdom of God “contracting” itself and appearing in the midst of concrete and empirical reality. 137

If we accept that the universe is this abundant and creative realm -- then doesn't it make simple sense that that type of abundant creativity is key to each of us, to the human universe. Therefore, as one investigates ideas, theories, even religions--this notion of creativity and abundance and its nurturing, advocating, encouraging and teaching is fundamental.

What creates the opportunity for more creativity, more diversity, more abundance, more LIFE? This creativity is not simply poetry (the favorite of many philosophers, e.g Heidegger) or art, but the creativity in all of Life's areas -- creatively exploring new opportunities for growth.

With creativity, diversity, novelty as fundamental goods--freedom is another key -- because without freedom, we would not have the opportunity to explore new possibilities, new opportunities, new horizons.

I think the most important thing to remember is that this is how the universe works -- when we block this creativity, this newness, we run counter to life; we block our own creativity, we block the fundamental direction, urge, push of Life.

What are some of the keys to making this happen? Language -- language helps create new possibility, new ways of thinking and seeing by finding/creating the right word(s). Environment -- a rich (though not chaotic) environment creates new opportunities.

Moment to moment to moment -- looking for creativity, opportunity, possibility, growth.

"In all thy ways" -- more on the tightrope

In returning to Rabbi Wurzburger's work Ethics of Responsibilty this morning I found these lines:

The applicability of the norms and values of Jewish Covenantal Ethics is by no means restricted to the members of the Jewish Covenantal Community. Although at the present time the religiously committed Jewish community seems to turn ever more inward and tends to focus primarily upon the particularistic and nationalistic elements of its heritage, I believe it to be of special importance to call attention to its universalistic components. While the ritualistic elements of Judaism are completely particularistic and intended exclusively for individuals who either by birth or by conversion qualify as members of the People of the Covenant, Jewish ethical teachings are not subject to the same kind of limitation but are viewed as possessing universal relevance. p8

I look upon Halakhah as an indispensable component but not as coextensive with the full range and scope of the Jewish normative system. I deliberately avoid the term “Halakhic Ethics,” preferring to speak of “Covenantal Ethics.” In my view, Jewish ethics encompasses not only outright halakhic rules governing the area of morality, but also intuitive moral responses arising from the Covenantal relationship with God, which provides the matrix for forming ethical ideals not necessarily patterned after legal models. To use Erich Fromm’s terminology,35 Judaism provides for an “ethics of responsibility” as well as for an “ethics of duty” or an “ethics of obedience.” p15

35. Fromm, Gods, 56

There is no basis for the claim once made by a prominent Christian theologian that “Judaism recognizes no religious requirement unless one can find through ingenious interpretation of the Law the necessary rules of conduct.”36 The absurdity of this characterization becomes evident when we recall the wellknown talmudic statement that the verse “In all thy ways thou shalt acknowledge Him”37 represents the most succinct formulation of our religious ideal.38 Similarly, R. Yosei declared that “all your actions should be performed for the sake of God.”39 Acts need not be perceived as instances of a specific religious norm in order to be performed for the sake of Heaven. p15

36. Rudolf Bultmann, Jesus and the World (New York: Charles Scribner’s
Sons, 1934), 69.
37. Prov. 3:6.
38. B. Berakhot 63a. See Wurzburger, “Law as the Basis of a Moral Society.” Tradition (Spring 1981): 51.
39. Avot 2:12. See also B. Beitzah 16a, which attributes this maxim to Hillel.

What strikes me in these paragraphs and in the highlighted lines in particular is that in some way Rabbi Wurzburger is again walking the "tightrope between a 'revealed will of God' and 'intuitive judgements'" that I wrote about in this post.

It is a tightrope that seems to me to exist between the Shulchan Aruch and the Talmud. One that defines very clear religious norms and prescriptions for actions and one that welcomes one into a dialogue and discussion about those norms and much more. But both together in their attention to minute detail both are clearly paths to acknowledging Hashem in "In all thy ways." And only when that is the ultimate motivation and driving desire, it seems would one be in a position to make the "intuitive moral responses" that Rabbi Wurzburger describes.

It is this message of ultimate importance of all our actions that is important for a universal audience, because it can provide an alternative to the messages of meaningless and hopelessness that often surround us.

The importance of our words

As I began to write this, I realized that just yesterday I was writing about how the Jewish tradition and the halacha helped me see the importance of each of my actions and today with the start of a new tractate in the Daf Yomi cycle, I wanted to write about the importance of words. Seeing and recognizing the importance of our actions and our words -- two pretty fundamental topics.

A few years ago I signed up for the daily email that one can receive from the Chofetz Chaim Heritage Foundation that shares the Chofetz Chaim's insights and writing about Loshon Hora -- forbidden speech. I even bought the book Chofetz Chaim: A Lesson A Day from Artscroll. The teachings are truly an amazing collections of insights and recommendations on how to see the power of language for good and for bad.

This is the definition of Lashon Hora from the first day of these teachings:

Loshon Hora (lit. evil talk) is defined as information which is either derogatory or potentially harmful to another individual. A derogatory statement about someone is loshon hora, even if it will definitely not cause that person any harm. To focus on the shortcomings of another person is itself wrong.

A statement that could potentially bring harm to someone – be it financial, physical, psychological or otherwise – is loshon hora, even if the information is not negative.

(It should be noted that the term loshon hora refers even to true statements which are derogatory or harmful. Negative statements that are untrue or inaccurate are termed hotzaas shem ra, slander.)

I remember when I read this for the first time, I couldn't help but think that nearly EVERYTHING I read in the newspaper or on the news would seemingly fall in this category. And when I looked at myself, I was astonished to recognize how often the things I would say about someone were negative or somehow drawing attention to shortcomings. The teachings in this area from the entire tradition, which the Chofetz Chaim relied on, are a powerful antidote to all the angry and mean and hurtful language that surrounds us.

Another important issue regarding speech is addressed in the tractate Nedarim, which as I mentioned above was begun today by those following on the daf yomi cycle. The tractate is about vows (nedarim).

Recently, I have slacked off on keeping up with the cycle, but thought I would make a new start with this tractate and as I was listening to the shiur from DVDShas the rabbi made the point that one of the messages of the tractate is about the simple power of our words to commit one to certain actions and prohibitions. I look forward to learning all I can from Chazel on this topic.

Each of our actions is important

The other day I was reading one of Rabbi Gil Student's posts on his terrific blog -- Hirhurim Musings. It is about the halacha regarding brushing one's teeth on Shabbat, which was an issue raised when his young son had a friend spend the night on Shabbat. I will let you read it, but I have to admit that while I was reading all the detail that R' Student went into about the prohibition of causing bleeding and squeezing on Shabbat, I could not help but think "Unbelievable, this is legalism at its worst!"

BUT the next day as I was listening to a lecture by Hubert Dreyfus on Martin Heidegger's Being and Time, professor Dreyfus was describing sense of the worldhood of the world, but the important thing for this post, is that professor Dreyfus in discussing one of Heidegger's points (I can't even remember the exact point at this time), made the distinction that for the discussion Heidegger was really focusing only on the "important" types of actions that we perform (such as teaching or being a parent -- something that defines us), and not unimportant actions like washing our hands, etc.

On hearing him say this I couldn't help but think about how hard R' Student had worked to describe the issue of brushing one's teeth on Shabbat! Now that is an unimportant issue (except of course for the health of your teeth -- though one day probably doesn't hurt one's dental hygiene much), if I ever heard of one. However, instead of treating in as unimportant the halachic tradition took it very seriously and put much energy into understanding what Chazel and the tradition said on the topic.

A bit later in the day I was listening to Rav Soloveitchik's shiur "Al Hanisim Chanuka" from Boston 1971, which can be found on the http://www.bcbm.org/ website. In it Rav Soloveitchik discusses the dialectic between the importance of the individual and the community within Judaism and while I have yet to finish the shiur and probably couldn't summarize it, even if I did, the one message that came through clearly on it and through much of the other works I have listened to and read from the Rav, was how much and how deeply valued the individual is within the halacha.

The final piece of this puzzle, which brings together many strains of thought I have recently had, comes from Rav Michael Rosensweig's recently posted shiurim on the Pirkei Avos. In the first few shiurim Rav Rosensweig is discussing the first mishnah in the second parek, which reads:

Rebbe said: Which is the straight path that a person should choose for himself?

Whatever is honorable for him and gains him people's respect. Be as careful in performing a slight mitzvah as a weighty mitzvah--because you do not know the reward for mitzvos. Consider the loss caused by a mitzvah in contrast to its reward, and the gain of a sin in contrast to its loss.

Contemplate three things, and you will not come to sin. Know what is above you: An eye that sees, an ear that hears, and all of your actions are written in a book. (translation from Rav Lau on Pirkei Avos from Artscroll)

Again, there is no way for me to try to capture what Rav Rosensweig says, but at the heart of it seems to me the message that while there may truly be a hierarchy within the mitzvot, it is most important for a person to treat each mitzva with the same level of honor and respect. Or as Rav Rosensweig might say, even though I don't think he does in shiurim, a person should treat each mitzva with a "maximalist" level of love, respect and thoroughness.

While this mishnah in Pirkei Avos brings to mind images of God as a strict taskmaster watching and judging every one of our actions, on the other hand it also depicts Hashem as a listening and guarding parent who pays close attention to us and is fundamentally and profoundly concerned about our welfare.

In closing while I am sure that the Orthodox focus on strict interpretation of all mitzvot may at times be used as more of a badge of who is the most frum (most observant), what I do appreciate is that with all that R' Student writes about brushing (and there is a second part to come) at the end of the day, the two boys had different practices (one brushed and the other didn't)! For all the scrupulousness of the halacha this recognition that in some situations there can be differences and that one should respect the tradition that one is raised up in, seems to be an important, if not essential, counter weight to a overly legalistic view of the world.

For myself what I find most inspiring is that sense of importance that this discussion gives to my actions. While the world may be interested in the day-to-day activities of celebrities, politicians or reality show contestants, the message from the halacha seems to be "Everyone of us is important and essential, and each of our actions shapes us and our future and has seemingly infinite depth and significance."

This is a message that I think many, many people need these days. Since today it is easy to feel unimportant, to feel like a number or to define one's value only in what we consume. When I combine this vision regarding our actions with the importance of study, of Torah lishmah (studying Torah for its own sake), it helps see my life with a sense of depth and meaning that is difficult create on one's own within the often time's far too shallow, superficial and fast-paced world in which we live.

In closing, I am grateful to the Orthodox Jewish tradition for providing such an enormous array of online material and beautiful books in translation, like Artscroll's Schottenstein Babylonian Talmud, to help one become engaged in a conversation that began thousands of years ago and will continue for thousands of years in the future . . . What could be more important and exciting than that?

The gift(s) of the Talmud

Not being able to sleep last night, I thought much about my interests and direction. Recently, I have been reading much from the Benedictine tradition, in particular commentaries on the Rule of Benedict -- a still vibrant document from around 600 CEcontaining rules about living in a monastery and elsewhere. It is a beautiful work that holds many messages for today.

I have also been exploring the poetry of Kenneth Koch, who I mentioned earlier -- his optimistic, creative and playful texts are also quite inspiring and freeing.

But in thinking about this blog and a viewpoint that that I can provide that perhaps others cannot, I returned to the Talmud as a source of meaning and understanding for me to continue to explore. While the Rule of Benedict has been and is being interpreted by a wide range of folks within and outside the monastery, even inside and outside Christianity, and the poetry of Kenneth Koch certainly can inspire, it is meant to be enjoyed and not analysed, the Talmud seems to thrive on analysis, to grow and grow and become richer from every question asked of it, every angle explored.

Therefore, since I do believe I provide a rather unusual perspective on this ancient and current text, I decided that I needed to renew my reading of, listening to and writing about this text that is certainly a gift from Hashem given us through Chazal and all following commentators. But it itself offers us the gift of providing infinite meaning to each action of our lives that often times can seem to lack much significance, much importance.

The Talmud breathes life into each moment by giving us the task of study and learning "day and night" and by focusing on every aspect of our lives it challenges us to see the importance, the beauty, the depth in each of those moments as well.

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.

Why I Study the Talmud

It seems like I ask myself every day, "Why am I studying the Talmud?"

I currently am keeping up with the Daf Yomi process, reading a daf (page) a day. This is a simple morning ritual for me, sometimes reading in depth, sometimes skimming the daf for the day. One important thing that it has offered me is an overview of Jewish tradition and ritual that don't have, since I am not Jewish. While at times the topics can be obscure or seemingly repetitive, there are often wonderful, inspirational gems as well.

In addition to this for that last four months I have been trying to keep up with the class of Rav Michael Rosensweig as he covers parek Meruba of Bava Kamma. Here is a link to all the shiurim the Yeshiva University offers, which I discussed in my last post.

Rav Rosensweig's classes are extremely in-depth discussions of the Mishnah, Gemara and seemingly all the commentaries on a specific topic covered in either the Mishnah or Gemara. The difference between the Daf Yomi level of study and Rav Rosensweig's couldn't be clearer. Since September when I discovered the Rav Rosensweig's shirium, the Daf Yomi has covered over 150 daf, while Rav Rosensweig has covered 6 daf in over 50 separate shiurim each approximately 90 minutes long!

While I don't understand everything Rav Rosensweig discusses, because he uses an enormous amount Hebrew/Aramaic, over time (I have listened to 39 classes so far -- I am still 16 behind where he currently is) I have gathered more and more familiarity with the Hebrew/Aramaic.

But now to the basic question -- "Why?"

I am not Jewish and so I am not obligated to talmud Torah (studying the Torah) like traditional Jews are. The individuals to whom I am drawn like Rav Rosensweig don't represent a universalistic vision of the Talmud (for example, like Emmanuel Levinas), but a clearly orthodox and traditional vision of the Talmud and its study.

Yet, I just can't get enough of Rav Rosensweig's teachings (in other postings I will include links to his writings and other audio shiurim). There is a seriousness, clarity and yet lightness in his presentation, along with a seemingly encyclopedic knowledge of the sources that draws me in.

When I turn to other traditions that I have been drawn to in the past: Catholicism, Buddhism, philosophy and poetry -- while they offer a seemingly more universal message of love or emptiness or creativity or attention, which are clearly useful and helpful, these discussions now seem so abstract, so mystical that they don't appeal at this time.

This reminds me of what Rav Joseph Soloveitchik wrote in Halakhic Man:

It is here, in this world, that halakhic man acquires eternal life! “Better is one hour of Torah and mitzvoth in this world than the whole life of the world to come,” stated the tanna in Avot [4:17], and this declaration is the watchword of the halakhist. 30

The Halakhah is not at all concerned with a transcendent world. The world to come is a tranquil, quiet world that is wholly good, wholly everlasting, and wholly eternal, wherein a man will receive the reward for the commandments which he performed in this world. However, receiving of a reward is not a religious act;
therefore, halakhic man prefers the real world to a transcendent existence because here, in this world, man is given the opportunity to create, act, accomplish, while there, in the world to come, he is powerless to change anything at all. 32

What can be more exciting, more challenging, more inspiring than this?

Nothing!

And it is this sense of dedication and drive that I find in Rav Rosensweig's shiurim, and it is why I listen to his classes nearly every day. They help me get in touch with the "ideal of halakhic man [which] is the redemption of the world not via a higher world but via the world itself, via the adaptation of empirical reality to the ideal patterns of Halakhah." 37-38

To me the parek, Meruba, that YU has been covering -- which basically discusses the issue of stealing (gezeilah -- robbery and geneivah -- thievery) is a perfect example of looking at "empirical reality" through the "ideal patterns of Halakhah," which for myself certainly help me see my day-to-day reality with new eyes.

Making This World Holy

One the strongest things that draws me to study the teachings of Rav Joseph B. Solovetichik and the Talmud as a whole is the focus on this world and making this world holy. The focus on embracing the possiblities, opportunities and blessings of this world, as well as creating and discovering a level of holiness that is so easily overlooked.

Within a shiur entitled "The Infinite Value of Human Life" by Rav Yitzchak Blau in the course on Understanding Aggada from Yeshivat Har Etzion, I found these words that I think express this point beautifully.

[Within the Halakhic Man] Rav Soloveitchik argues that the man of science shows interest only in this world of physics and biology, while the standard man of religion would like to escape this limited world and move on to a transcendent plane. Unlike the above two figures, Halakhic Man attempts to realize transcendence in this world, employing Halakha as a means for such realization.

According to Rav Soloveitchik, this explains why tumat meit , impurity caused by a human corpse, is the most severe form of ritual defilement. This halakha conveys the strongly negative attitude of halakha towards death. Unlike Socrates, we do not look forward to death as a golden chance to be released from the limiting shackles of the body. Instead, we treasure every day of life as a precious chance to engage in Torah and mitzvot. The world to come may be the place to receive our final reward, but "the receiving of a reward is not a religious act" (Halakhic Man, p. 32). It is only this flesh-and-blood world that is the world of spiritual toil and accomplishment.

Here are couple more quotes from Halakhic Man on this point:

It is here, in this world, that halakhic man acquires eternal life! “Better is one hour of Torah and mitzvoth in this world than the whole life of the world to come,” stated the tanna in Avot [4:17], and this declaration is the watchword of the halakhist. 30

However, receiving of a reward is not a religious act; therefore, halakhic man prefers the real world to a transcendent existence because here, in this world, man is given the opportunity to create, act, accomplish, while there, in the world to come, he is powerless to change anything at all. 32

Halakhic man, on the contrary, longs to bring transcendence down into this valley of the shadow of death—i.e., into our world—and transform it into a land of the living. 40

Every day, at every moment, with every person we meet this is the challenge -- how can I hallow this moment, this person?