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Torah portion Chukat (Numbers 19:1 – 22:1), which we read this week of Rosh Chodesh Tammuz, concludes with a section about a series of battles and the defeat of King Sihon of the Amorites and King Og of Bashan. The Israelites’ victories in these battles marked the beginning of settlement after the wanderings in the wilderness. The Torah tells us that the land of which the people took possession went from the Arnon to the Jabbok. The latter river was earlier the scene of Jacob’s mysterious encounter, after which he become Israel.

These battles really were Israel’s first Wars of Independence and thus the point at which the sons and daughters of Jacob became the settled nation of Israel, even if it would fall to future generations to cross the Jordan one summer night, possibly on 3 Tammuz, when the sun stood still. However, as Plaut notes in his commentary (p. 1023 of the revised edition), the stories of these battles “are told without any particular theological overtones.” They are historical accounts that appear somewhat fragmentary and even out of context.

These warfare accounts in Numbers 21:1 to 22:1 are the first accounts of their kind that we see in our cycles of Torah readings. That they come up in summer time, and this year coincident with the week of American Independence celebrations, present us good opportunity to reflect on the purposes of sovereignty and statehood, of independence and the exercise of liberty.

While there may be no theological overtones to the account of these wars of independence in Numbers, later biblical authors would provide the theological content needed to situate the striving for secure settlement in our own land with its bigger purpose.

Consider Psalm 136. This psalm is a recounting of creation, of liberation from bondage in Egypt, of God’s leading the people through the wilderness, and of the otherwise obscure battles against those “mighty kings” Sihon and Og. Each line of the psalm concludes with “His steadfast love is eternal” (ki l’olam chasdo). Thus in a mere 26 verses, a people by then settled in their land are given a theological connection that gives a broader purpose to their historical narrative.

Verses 10-15 speak of liberation from Egypt, 17-20 of these battles against the kings, and Verses 21 and 22 are the clincher: “and [God] gave their land as a heritage—His steadfast love is eternal—a heritage to his servant Israel—His steadfast love is eternal.”

What can we take from this today? Yes, literally today, American Independence Day? Liberation comes with responsibility. We were liberated from Egypt so we could serve God, as an ethical people, a Light unto the Nations, as Isaiah said.

But we need not go back as far as Isaiah or the Psalmist, to see the connection between freedom and ethical responsibility. Let’s turn to an American secular prophet, Thomas Jefferson. In his last known letter, acknowledging but declining, for ill health, an invitation to the 50th anniversary celebrations of American Independence from mighty King George III, Jefferson wrote:

All eyes are opened, or opening, to the rights of man… those are grounds of hope for others. For ourselves, let the annual return of this day forever refresh our recollections of these rights, and an undiminished devotion to them.

Ten days after writing this words, Jefferson would die. On July 4, 1826.

“Grounds of hope for others.” “A Light unto the Nations.”

I think Jefferson and our prophets meant the same thing.

This morning was the aphelion; hard to believe such a hot summer sun could be so far away! And it’s Rosh Chodesh Tammuz, the new moon of the first full month of summer. And the 4th of July means there should be some extra candles lighting up a dark sky tonight.

Shavuot is upon us. It seems a rather under-appreciated holiday, at least in the more progressive and ’secular’ Jewish circles that I associate with. Maybe that’s because it has a bit of an identity crisis.

Of all the various names the holiday has in the Torah, the one we conventionally use, which is Hebrew for Weeks, is somewhat less than inspiring. Other names in the Torah for the holiday mean the Day of Firstfruits or the Feast of Cutting (the Harvest). The holiday’s original purpose was to bookend, with Pesach, the grain harvest period. Thus the alliterative potential of the Feast of the First Fruits is almost irresistible to me.

Most of all, I like the idea of calling it The Feast of the Covenant, as that name fits the post-biblical definition of the holiday as commemorating the sealing of the covenant at Sinai. Apparently this term is used in the book of Jubilees (which I have never read) and, as a result, used by some Christians for Pentecost. That would not necessarily deter me from calling Shavuot the Feast of the Covenant. The name fits.

Whatever we call it, few words could sum it up as well as Isaiah 42:6 (from one of the haftarot offered in Plaut’s Reform commentary to the Torah):

I, the Eternal, have called you in righteousness,
and taken your hand.
I am the One who created you
and made you a covenant people,
a light to the nations.

That, for me, perfectly encapsulates what this holiday is about. Whereas a mere seven weeks ago, we celebrated our freedom through the rituals of Pesach, now we celebrate the purpose of that freedom. For freedom is not merely a value in its own right; with freedom comes responsibility. Freedom for what? Responsibility to do what? Freedom to serve God, humanity, and all creation. Responsibility to work to make the world a better place, to foster shalom.

May your Feast of the Covenant be a joyous one!

I should not let it go too many days past without at least pausing to note that, via the Hebrew calendar, the one-year anniversary of my emerging from the mikveh a member of the people, Israel, was this week: the 29th of Iyyar!

It is hard to believe it has been a year already, even if it was a 13-month year. But, then, as one friend at shul said to me, “I know I met you at Sinai.” Nice.

And if any of the rabbis of my beit din happen to read this, I never will be able to thank you enough for all that you have taught me.

I am looking forward to Shavuot, for it was at the Shavuot service last year that I had my formal “welcome” to the community and carried the Torah scroll. (Good thing the back injury came only later; I have not been able to carry much of anything for nearly a year.)

The week of the new moon of Sivan, 5768, will go down as a historic week: the week in which Barack Obama became the first African-American to clinch the nomination of either established political party. He is highly likely to be the next President of the USA. Stop and think about that for just a moment!

Somewhat unfortunately, the clinching week was also Pander to Likud Week, otherwise known as the week in which both major-party candidates, plus one still-lingering pretender to the throne, gave their speeches before the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC).While the Forward suggests AIPAC was a “battleground” for John McCain’s and Barack Obama’s differences over Middle East policy, what stood out to my ears was Obama repeating–not once but twice–that as President he would do everything in his power to stop Iran from getting a nuclear weapon. I don’t mean to suggest that Iran’s having nukes would be a good thing (though it is worth noting that other “radical” regimes have become a good deal more cautious upon acquiring the devices). Is accepting a nuclear-armed Iran, if it comes to that, worse than the major war that would be required to use everything in the US President’s power? No. Besides, both McCain and Obama are taking the stock right-wing Israeli/Cheneyist line that Iran actually is about to build a nuclear bomb, rather than questioning the premise itself (as none other than the US National Intelligence Estimate has done).

The taming of Barack Obama–strangely shocking to certain Arab audiences–will continue. It has to continue, for him to be elected President of this country. It will be worth the effort. But it will not be pretty for us left-libertarian, anti-war Jews to watch. We progressives really do need a counterweight to AIPAC.

Still, I am more than ready to declare myself a Jew for Obama and a Green for Obama (sorry, Cynthia).

Post and they will come. Don’t post and they won’t. It is a pretty simple rule of blogging. And I have not been posting much.

Infrequently updated blogs can be easily (and, I have to admit, deservedly) forgotten. However, the concept of the feed exists precisely to provide that occasional reminder of the blog’s existence when a new post appears.

I finally gotten around to generating a feed for this site, and the icon/link for subscribing to Ararat Scrolls is now over there somewhere on the left sidebar–just under the rainbow. (Sorry, no pot of gold.)

One of the very cool things about blogolandia is that one always learns when someone out there has sent a link one’s way. And the currency of all exchange in blogolandia is the link (worth more than the dollar every day!).

I am pleased and honored that this far-too-infrequently-updated blog has made Kineret WillowGreene’s list of favorite Jewish websites! She described herself as “a kosher semi-vegetarian Jew” in Ohio, and she blogs about Jewish life somewhere in the exurbs and other topics.

In the interest of communal support, Willowgreen Mews is added to the Ararat Scrolls blogscroll.

Hooray! Hooray!! Hooray!!!

Rabbi Brant Rosen tells the story of Beth Shalom, a synagogue in Illinois that is seeking to be the first to get a Platinum-level certification as a “green building.” The talk is great, and ranges far beyond synagogue architecture and energy efficiency and into the entire theme of the Jewish mitzvah of living an earth-friendly life and applying our principles to national and international politics.

The podcast is linked at Shalom Rav, and I thank Avi for calling my attention to it (via a private e-mail).

As a social scientist, I know the importance of heuristics–basically drawing inferences by the use of shortcuts or cues. But some folks are rather too quick on the draw.

I have been accused of many things in my time, but saying that it was good that King was assassinated? Well, that’s a new one.

I would not even dignify the post with a link, if not for the fact that I am currently coveting my neighbor’s Hebrew Barack Obama button.

Another item from David Bernstein at the Volokh Conspiracy (2003), is an interesting post about Things you probably didn’t know about Israel. Bernstein makes several observations about life in Israel and, in particular, how “secular” is understood very differently in Israel, compared to the USA.

 Secular, in other words, seems to primarily mean anti-clerical, and I’ve met Israelis who call themselves secular but would be considered quite observant in American Jewish terms.

The post is really interesting, but the one thing that raised my eyebrows just a bit is the item I quoted in the headline. Are mezuzot “the very rough equivalent of crosses”? In the sense that, in most Catholic countries (and some institutions in the USA) there is a cross in every office or other room, I suppose so. But the similarity does not extend much beyond that, does it? Am I being overly sectarian with my raised eyebrows? Well, he did say “very rough.”

From David Bernestein, writing at the Volokh Consipracy, in 2003:

Mr n vwls n hbrw Reader Adam Raizan sent a very thoughtful email on why vowels are not used in Hebrew publishing:

First of all, once you’ve gotten used to reading Hebrew, wowel points don’t help at all, and are actually a distraction. Some English-language dictionaries use diacritics on vowels in order to show pronunciation without rewriting the word in a special phonetic alphabet, but it would be extremely distracting to someone familiar with the language to see those diacritics on every word in a regular text.

Second, it takes time to write or type vowel points. It would probably be something like writing or typing an accent mark on every other letter, and since they are very rarely needed for understanding and they aren’t actually part of the letters themselves, there is a natural tendency to just skip them.

Third, the phonology of Israeli Hebrew is different from the phonology of Tiberian Hebrew, for which the vowel points were devised, and thus to correctly vocalize a text, you must have knowledge of a fairly large number of picky details in order to distinguish between the different vowel points which are pronounced identically in Israeli Hebrew. Though everyone studies the rules in school, most Israelis would not be able to correctly vocalize a text, and even someone who has a good basicknowledge of the rules would still make numerous mistakes because of exceptions and less common rules.

I think that non-vocalized Hebrew text could be considered analogous in some ways to English spelling. It would be easier for non-native English speakers to simplify English spelling, but for native speakers or people who are experienced with English, a spelling reform would cause more distraction than it would be worth. Unlike English, it wouldn’t be a savings even in the long run, because once you gain experience in Hebrew, vowelless text is simpler and easier.

I especially like the point about how we don’t publish English with diacritics on vowels to show pronunciation. Indeed, we don’t even do this for early childhood literature, while in Israel basic children’s books do have vowels. Anyone who has sat (suffered, in my experience, but that’s a topic for another post, on deficiencies in grade school education) through a second or third grade class in which one of the slower kids is asked to read aloud knows how difficult it can be to for those with poor reading skills to correctly pronounce English vowels in different words.

[The following is a re-post of an item I originally put in this space on April 1, 2007. I know in some purist blogging circles, recycling old posts is considered cheating. Not in mine.]

Are oats to be considered chametz, grains not to be consumed if leavened (e.g. by fermentation) on Pesach?

I started with Wikipedia, even though I always take what I read there with a grain of salt.

The Torah (Exodus 13:3) prohibits Jews from eating leaven (chametz) during Passover. Technically, chametz is only leaven made from the “five grains”: wheat, spelt, barley, shibbolet shu’al (two-rowed barley, according to Maimonides; oats according to Rashi) or rye…

Evidently we have some disagreement, going back a few years, about whether oats are prohibited. Searching some more (and thanking God for Google), I landed on a JTS document, Haggadah Shel Pesah (in PDF, and very interesting for more than this short quotation):

The five grains which can be used to make halah, and therefore can become
hamaiz and are prohibited on Passover are:

Hitim - wheat [Triticum durum and vulgare]
Se’orim - 6- and 4-rowed barley, [Hordeolum sativum and vulgare]
Kusmim - {Even Shoshan=Triticum dicoccum, J Cohen=spelt}emmer/lesser spelt/ rice wheat
[Triticum dicoccum]
Shibbolet Shu’al - {Even Shoshan=Avena; J Cohen=oats}2-rowed barley [Hordeolum distichum]
Shippon - {Even Shoshan=Secale=rye, JCohen=rye} spelt wheat [Triticum spelta].

These are the only items which can become hamaiz. While there is virtually total rabbinic agreement since Talmudic times that these Biblical Hebrew terms comprise the sum total of items which can become hamaiz, there is not agreement regarding the proper translation of the terms kusmim and shibbolet. Some authorities include oats in the above list but it is doubtful whether oats should be included. [my emphasis]

(This source also suggests that the inclusion of rye on the prohibited list, according to most authorities, is inaccurate.)

Kashrut.org agrees that oats do not belong on the list:

The Gemara says in Menachot 70a, and so it is brought down in the Halachah, that the five grains are either types of wheat or types of barley (two are wheat & three are barley). Oats does not fit in to this category. It is not a wheat nor is it a barley. Clearly some people went to great lengths to randomly translate each of the five grains into something in English without regard to the consequences. People are being restricted unnecessarily, and others are making a Bracha LeVatalah on Matzot made from Oats. One who uses oats for Matzah is absolutely not Yotzeh (accomplishing) the Mitzvah.

My oat granola will remain on the breakfast menu this Pesach.

One of whom was the Pope.

I have been critical of this pope before, but let’s give him credit for the powerful symbol of interfaith cooperation and understanding represented by visiting Park East Synagogue in New York. It is reported to be only the third papal visit ever to a synagogue, the first in North America.

In his brief remarks, he even referred to our upcoming festival as “Pesach.” Nice touch.

So, Ben Stein has a movie being released today called Expelled, about the alleged denial of opportunity to scientists who believe in “intelligent design.” On the movie’s blog, Stein (who, for what it might be worth, is Jewish) says:

Under a new anti-religious dogmatism, scientists and educators are not allowed to even think thoughts that involve an intelligent creator…

In today’s world, at least in America, an Einstein or a Newton or a Galileo would probably not be allowed to receive grants to study or to publish his research.

What a crock. Scientists don’t censor other scientists’ personal beliefs. They do, however, demand standards of scientific inquiry. Einstein, Newton, and Galileo probably would be able to meet those standards even today.

A CNN segment about the movie today played clips from each of the remaining major-party US presidential candidates. Each one made a statement to the effect that he or she “believes in” evolution as well as has “faith.” The premise is all wrong. Evolution is not something one believes in (or not). Science is not a belief system. If only our public discourse would acknowledge the distinction.