Mesachek be-Kubia and Wall Street

According to this article, should Wall Street investors be disqualified from bearing testimony in Jewish courts? Read on...

Sanhedrin might be my favorite masechet. I've learned the whole thing through 4 times, and have had several other sedarim to learn various parts be-iyun, and am currently learning the first parts of Choshen Mishpat, which is heavily based in Sanhedrin. I've always found it to be a great mix of material. But I digress.

The third chapter of Sanhedrin deals with those who are disqualified to bear testimony, including relatives and those whose professions are 'shady'. Outright criminals are presumed by the Mishnah to be disqualified (for at least certain types of case, ayen sham), but there's another class who are considered to be rabinically disqualified.
One of those is the 'mesachek be-kubia' - the dice-player, the gambler. The Gemara records a dispute regarding the rationale for this disqualification - is it because they take money that the original owner really had no intent to part with (asmakhta lo kanya), or because they do not positively contribute to society (eino oseik be-yishuvo thel olam)? In other words, who is disqualified - the hustler or the gambler?

The practical difference between the rationales would be an occasional gambler - he participates in society with his day job, but then makes people part with their money on weekends. He's disqualified by the first rationale, but not by the second. Similarly, a particularly poor gambler, who only loses money, would be disqualified according to the latter, but not the former.
Practically speaking, the Rambam, and the Shulchan Arukh in his wake, ruled in accordance with the latter position, that oseik be-yishuvo shel olam determines the status of the potential witness.

A number of years ago, I asked the following question: what about someone who 'gambles' in a different way - a speculator, for instance. One could argue that investment - especially speculative investment - is what allows economies, and everything else in their wake, to develop. Investments were a bona fide contribution to society. Furthermore, investors often made money for others - perhaps if I gamble (and win) with other people's money, I'm oseik be-yishuvo shel olam because I'm not just in it for myself?
OK, then, so what about a day trader. His investments are very short-term - not helping to develop anything - are designed to be small enough not to create or upset trends, and is often done with one's own money. Perhaps such a person is truly not oseik be-yishuvo shel olam.

My thinking was largely theoretical, but I was reminded of it when reading this article. The description (caricature?) of the Wall Street investor in the article is very close to the mesachek be-kubya described by the Gemara the one who plays games of chance as a profession, and who engineers it so that he always comes out on top. It even fits with both rationales (asmakhta lo kanya has been taken to an entirely new dimension in the last year). So the question remains - if that NYT article describes what you do for a living, would you be fit to bear witness in a Jeiwhs court? If I was one of the judges, I'd have some serious doubts.

[Someone recently asked me for an example of something that I'm machmir on. There you go.]

On Tzohar Rabbis Accepting Pay for Services

There was a news report today that Tzohar rabbis will now be allowed to accept payment for providing religious services such as officiating at weddings. This is ostensibly a response to the financial reality, but it's probably more complicated than that. I have no doubt that Tzohar is suffering financially; their original sugar daddy, Avi Chai, is slowly cutting off funding (they fund organizations for a fixed amount of time and then gradually phase out their funding, expecting the organization to stand on its own two feet), and donations are not coming in like they used to. Tzohar has a hard time fundraising in general, since they are not perceived to be addressing an urgent concern in the same way that, say, MADA and ZAKA are, they don't have big buildings or programs that one would be likely to contribute to in memoriam, and, frankly, the people they serve are not usually what you would call 'needy'. We're talking about average Israelis - perhaps even above average when you consider that Israel's poorest sectors - the Arab and Haredi sectors - have little or no use for Tzohar.

That being the case, why did Tzohar make themselves 'free' in the first place? The answer is, basically, to distance themselves from the status quo. If the official rabbis were taking money under the table, then Tzohar made it a policy to take no money for services. The other elements of their commitment - to be on time and to meet with the bride and groom beforehand - have the same objective.

In truth however, it is the official rabbis who should not be charging to officiate and the Tzohar rabbis who should; the official rabbis make a very nice living and their job description is to provide religious services to those in their jurisdiction. Demanding money under the table is nothing short of corruption. For the average Tzohar rabbi, however, the situation is reversed (and I know this first hand, from friends and acquaintances who perform weddings for Tzohar). He usually is not terribly well paid doing whatever it is he does (part time rabbinic position + teaching + hustling around and doing whatever); furthermore, given the commitments that the Tzohar rabbi must make when officiating, there is often a significant time commitment (let's say, including travel, up to half a day). He is permitted to be reimbursed for travel expenses, but that's it. As the old saying goes, altruism is nice, but you can't eat it for dinner. It makes perfect sense for a Tzohar rabbi to be able to charge for his services as long as it is not part of his regular job (for example, if he is the rabbi of a synagogue and a constituent is getting married).

I think, then, that the voices within Tzohar that were advocating allowing rabbis to accept payment have been growing, and the 'financial crisis' rationale is convenient excuse but not the whole truth. Consider that Tzohar does not pay its rabbis; how is Tzohar saving money by allowing the rabbis to accept payments?

Alternatively, it is possible that Tzohar will begin charging membership dues, and this is one of the benefits that would accrue to members. If they do that, I would hope that they publish - far and wide - a standard rate for officiating at a wedding, so that this will not turn sour like the system it strives to replace.

Follow-up n the Issue of Ordaining Women

In addition to the post I linked to below, I made another point about this issue here.
I see four sources of pressure that push toward the ordination (call it what you want) of Orthodox women:

1. Feminism within Orthodoxy - the desire of Orthodox women to gain titular recognition of their achievements and positions. This is part of the general trend toward egalitarianism and feminism (two separate movements, of which I';m more comfortable with the latter than with the former, ve-acamo"l) within the Orthodox world. This pressure, on its own, is generally counterproductive in that it generally provokes disproportionate reaction. It's necessary, though, in order to drive the movement once other pressures are created. Note, for example, that the institutions of to'enet din and yo'etzet halakha were both born of necessity (the former from the misogynist structure of Israeli divorce courts, the latter from the recognition that women are far better purveyors of hilkhot niddah than men are).
   
2. Other Jewish movements - this is not to say that other denominations put pressure on Orthodoxy to do anything. That would, again, only provoke reaction. However, the fact that there ARE non-Orthodox women serving as rabbis in non- or quasi-rabbinic positions (Hillel directors, federations, funds/ endowments, think tanks, community learning programs, NPOs, etc.) puts pressure on the Orthodox community. Many Orthodox women who are equally or better qualified than non-Orthodox applicants to the same position are at a disadvantage due to their lack of recognized credentials. This flaw is not fatal, but it is definitely an obstacle.
3. The changing role of the "Rabbi" - the historical role of the 'rabbi' is the subject of many books and dissertations. There is no doubt however, that it has changed yet again in the US in recent generations. Any religious functionary is now a 'rabbi' - from the first-grade rebbi to the kashrus supervisor to the 'kiruv professional'. Some would argue that the title has been rendered meaningless. I would not go that far; rather, it has a connotation of being a provider to Jewish religious services. Semikhah itself has followed suit. One may get semikhah online with shemayisrael.org. Ner Israel offers a semikhah for mastering 5 volumes of the Mishnah Berurah; I've even heard of a semikhah in Israel (for 'kiruv professionals') which involves a test on 50 blatt Gemara of your choice as well as mastery of the Kitzur Shulchan Arukh. It's hard to know why exactly this change took place, but here are some possibilities: a) the desire to generate more respect for these otherwise minor functionaries (it would be interesting to look at Torah U-mesorah archives to see if they ever made a decision to have the rebbeim addressed as 'rabbis'); b) the general compartmentalization of Jewish proficiencies due to advances in technology and communications: a rabbi used to have to know all about paskenin maros as well as treyfos. With the advent of refrigeration and overnight mail, he needs to know neither in order to be effective. Thus, instead of a single, general role, you have numerous smaller ones, all of which are called 'rabbi'. It could be that smaller roles existed in earlier times, but were not called rabbi> Rather, it was melamed, magid, shochet, mohel, etc. Those divisions may still exist, but all are still titularly 'rabbis' (Rabbi Ploni Almoni, Certified Mohel) - kind of like 'doctors'. Thus, the term has become a marker that says 'this person is an authority/ service provider in the following area'. As this perception grows, there would be an increasing need to do the same for female 'service providers'. In several senses, this has already happened - both with new titles like 'yo'etzet' and 'to'enet' (which, I believe, will ultimately be subsumed under 'rabbi' like 'mohel' and 'shochet' were), and older ones like 'rebbetzin' and 'rabbanit'. Nevertheless, none of these terms offer the blanket coverage that 'rabbi' does. Only the wort ostriches still believe that women do not fill roles that are currently being filled by 'rabbis', or that they lack the requisite knowledge that it takes to be a rabbi. It's about title, nothing more.
   
4. Money - there's money to be made and money to be saved by women who have some type of clerical title. Perhaps the financial pressure is not yet so great, but it's there, and it will grow. As we all know, economics are a much greater stimulus of halakhic innovation than ideology or anything else.

There is not yet pressure to find a title for the husband of such a female Orthodox clergyperson. That's why I like Maharetzin.

I Am the Maharetzin

[Note: My wife is not a Mahara"t, though she has, for many years, filled roles that may easily be described as rabbinic]
As part of my husbandly duties as Maharetzin, I would like to announce that my wife will be speaking 3 times in the next two weeks in the Baltimore/ Washington area: For the next two Tuesday nights (7/7 and 7/14), 8-9:30pm at the National Synagogue (free of charge), on the topic "Asking for What you Want: Chana and the B'not Tzelophchad"; Wednesday, July 15 at WIT Baltimore, 10-11pm. The topic has to do with the biblical DIna, and there is a charge for the class, but I don't have any more details right now. All shiurim are for women only.

This gives me the opportunity to write about a topic I've been avoiding for a while - the Maharat. The record shows that I wrote, in February 2006, that "that there's a real problem that there's no way to recognize a learned Orthodox woman" and that "there's actually a pressing need for some way to recognize the achievements of Orthodox women so that they can get the benefits that they would accrue if they were a different gender or denomination". Will the title "Maharat" allow its bearers to claim parsonage on their income taxes, or land those non-rabbinic jobs that are reserved for those with ordination (e.g., Judaic studies principals, Hillel directors), only time will tell. Time will tell if this is attempt to address the issue will succeed; there's no question, though, that it is addressing a very real need.

In truth, there are many "Maharat"s out there already - perhaps not 'officially', but in terms of all but name (and pay scale) they fill those quasi-rabbinic roles (since I'm no longer practicing as a rabbi, but my wife still serves in a quasi-rabbinic capacity to many of her students, I guess that makes me a Maharetzin).
By the way, the Maharetzin often fills a major role (I propose that there be a session at the next JOFA conference entitled: 'The Role of the Maharetzin'). In my case, I help prepare the shiurim - often providing an idea and a few sources, which the Rebbetzin/Maharat then runs with and teaches better than I ever could.

Notes from the First Day in the Alter Heim

we're back in the US for a good chunk of the summer. We'll be in the DC area for the next few weeks (let us know if you're in the area and want to get together) before heading up to camp. The rebbetzin has a few teaching engagements lined up in Baltimore and DC.

Although I normally like having the opportunity of listening to regular MLB night games. Last night, the combination of jetlag and disappointment had me turning it off in the 4th inning, with the Sox up 6-1 and threatening to run up the score. What a mistake!

The rental car comes equipped with Sirius satellite radio. I found some stations with music from the 80s and 90s - amongst the first few song I heard were People are People (Depeche Mode), Welcome to the Jungle (GNR), and Mysterious Ways (U2). Needless to say, they're now pre-set and I'm trying to figure out how to get this set up in Israel.

The woman behind the service desk at the airport (I will not provide any more detail, though it should be fairly obvious that this took place at BWI) had a name tag that said LEWQUANDIS. And she wasn't even that talkative.

My Daughter's Kushya

My second grade daughter, currently learning Parshat Vayechi, came up with the following question:
Q. Why did Dina not get a bracha?
My wife and I think it's a great question.
She also came up with an answer:
A. It probably would have been something really girly, like "get married and have lots of kids".

A Very Bitter Rabbi

I originally called this blog "Self-hating Rabbi". I was bitter. I still have some of those sentiments, but, since I'm not a practicing rabbi anymore, I tend not to get all worked up about things anymore. Sometimes I miss it, but usually not. For example, the whole conversion thing is rearing its ugly head again; apparently, R. Metzger backed R. Sherman at a recent EJF convention - and I don't really give a darn (to be sure, if my son came home with a girl who is a ba'alat teshuvah, whose non-religious mother had converted through R. Druckman, I would insist that she do a tevilah le-chumrah before marrying my kid). I took it much more seriously when I was performing conversions and experienced personal outrage when conversions were being threatened. No more.

Anyhow, I'm currently learning a book called Yamin u-Smol by R. Yehuda Leib Graubart. This is the second work of his that I'm learning with someone who is interested in learning the works of this Rav specifically. The rav had a wonderful sense of humor, but was clearly a very bitter person. The current book is a series of essays on his hashkafa, but with a very then-contemporary bent - he talks about the balance between kodesh and chol, personal hygiene, business vs. agriculture (this was a huge issue then), communism, socialism (he believes that the Torah is fundamentally socialist; funny enough, Rav Lichtenstein has expressed similar ideas), Reform (boy, does he go after them) and a host of other issues. It's a lot of fun.

He has a few essays on the role and status of the rabbi, especially in America. He even discusses the relative merits of American rabbinical schools like RIETS and HTC (Skokie, before it was in Skokie). He laments the futility of being a rabbi in America often, but here's a real money quote:

My translation:

Who shall ascend the mountain of the Rabbinate? One who does not have clean hands and a putre heart (cf. Tehillim 24:4) - he will withstand and endure, be sated with bread, and it will be good with him - even though those charlatans did not choose the rabbinate out of wisdom, because had they employed their trickery and strategies in business, they probably would have become wealthy. The situation in the rabbinate is that with all their cunning, they will not amass much of a fortune. The rabbinate is not fertile ground for wealth.

Honest man - do not come here! Do not put your energies into the rabbinate. Run from it. Be a craftsman or peddler, and eat your bread, the fruit of your efforts, in peace, be it a lot or a little. Do not be take on the concerns of the many. Do not be a bundle of nerves. Be absorbed amongst the people - see, but do not be seen. You will fear God, and you will not hate people.

Sitz im Leben

I've been going through some of R. Elchanan Samet's shiurim on Tehilim (in Hebrew; the English ones are coming out a bit slower). I might have mentioned it before, but I find R. Samet to be one of the most exciting contemporary commentators on the TaNakh. I've read a lot of his stuff - on Chumash, on Melakhim, and now on Tehillim, and he's really very good.

In the shiur that I'm currently reading, he analyzes Psalm 44. He often takes the descriptions of events recorded in the psalms and tries to link them with specific historical events. With this one, he runs into trouble. He presumes that the canon was closed, or at least that no new psalms were added to the collection that forms the Masoretic Book of Psalms, from some point during the Second Temple. Thus, this psalm, which refers to exile, must refer to teh Babylonian exile. This, however, presents three problems:

a) The psalm makes no reference to the destruction of Jerusalem or the Temple, which would be expected of a complaint about the Babylonian exile.

b) The psalmist protests the innocence of the Israelites (or the Jews, at this point); this flies in the face of everything else that the prophets wrote - that the exile was a punishment!

c) The psalmist very stirringly relates to the fact that the Jews went to the slaughter for God's sake. This is not characteristic of the Babylonian exile - which seems to have been quite comfortable.

These are R. Samet's questions.
I believe that I can point to a set of biblical events that would answer the questions.
As is familiar to students of TaNakh, the Jewish King Yehoyakhin was exiled to Babylonia about a decade prior to the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple. Along with the king, a group of several thousand of Judea's most promising youths were exiled as well.

So there's your answer. The psalm does not lament the destruction, because it had not yet occurred. It protests innocence, because these youths were, in fact, innocent. It relates to martyrdom because the first biblical account of martyrdom - that of Chananiah, Mishael, and Azariah - is actually from that time period.

Interesting new blog

Check out The Talmud Blog.
I would probably be interested in it even had I not been related to the blogger...

The Article is Up

link

Check Out my Article in Jewish Action (and other ramblings)

I have an article in the Jewish Action that just came out. The topic of the article is the construction of eruvin on college campuses in the past decade.

I'll post a link when it's up.

A couple of random thoughts during the drive up to Akko this week:
1) Does Baka al-Jarbiyeh mean "the Valley of Socks"?
2) It would be extremely cool if there was ever a Megadeth concert at Megido.

While at Akko, Raphi thought that the gallows in the Akko citadel/ prison were really cool: "Just like in 'Pirates ofthe Caribbean'". I actually did some of the translation of the museum signs there, so that was nice to see (if you're there and you notice any spelling mistakes - those are not mine).

I'm currently working on several long-term Torah- and Jewish- related translating and editing projects, with more on the horizon. I can now count five different Hesder yeshivot as clients, plus a half-dozen other Jewish educational NPOs. It's like I'm back in kollel, just the pay is a bit better.

Affiliate Marketing as an Institutional Fundraiser

As part of my shul’s building campaign, I came up with the idea of creating a “virtual mall” to help with the fundraising effort. Thus far, in its 2 months of operation, it has generated about $113 – not a tremendous amount, but we’re just getting started. In truth, once its set up, there is very easy to maintain and it’s “passive income”. The trick is to get the members of your community to do their online shopping through your portal. I’m getting ahead of myself, though. I’ll explain from the beginning.

Most online vendors have affiliate marketing programs. The idea is that you create links to the vendor’s site, and then you get a certain percentage of any purchases generated by traffic that you drive (Amazon pays the best commissions). As a simple example, my shul has my own affiliate account with Amazon. This link to Amazon is a unique link that tells Amazon that the traffic was driven by me. There is no need for the buyer to enter any code or anything.

When it comes to institutions, it’s all about loyalty. If your constituents shop online, and you can educate and convince them to do their shopping through your affiliate links, then you can make money. The best thing about it is that it costs the buyer nothing. It’s essentially an advertising cost paid by the vendor. In fact, I’d say that if you shop online and DON’T go through some sort of affiliate link, then you’re leaving money on the floor.

Setting it up can be complicated. There are three main companies that manage affiliate programs for the most popular online vendors – Commission Junction, Linkshare, and Google Affiliates. The problem is, unless you have a lot of traffic, many affiliate programs will reject your application. Amazon, which has its own affiliate program, does not have an application process – they’re smart that way. You can, however, create links using other sites – such as visitourmall.com, onecause.com, and other “charity mall” sites. You can create your own site within those sites, or you can ‘harvest’ links and embed them in your own site. The problem with these “charity mall” sites is that they take a hefty chunk of your earnings. For example, if Vendor A pays 4% commissions, the charity mall site will take 50-60% of that, leaving you with 2% or even less. It’s better to set up your own accounts, but, like I mentioned, it’s not always so easy to get approved.

On my shul’s site, most of the links are through charity mall accounts; as we generate more traffic by getting friends and family to shop at our “mall”, we will hopefully get more and more of our own accounts approved, and our commissions will go up. Whoever sets it all up for the institution should spend some time learning the ins and outs of affiliate marketing.

There are no privacy concerns. The account manager can not see who buys what, and often not even what was bought.

In all, if your institution has a decent number of loyal constituents who do a decent amount of online shopping, it is worth exploring the possibility of creating a “virtual mall”. It could generate a decent amount of revenue. Until that time, however, feel free to shop at my shul’s mall. You’ll help a great young community in Israel.

Things I DON'T Miss About America

In this week's parsha, the Israelites complained about the things that they missed about Egypt, like fish and watermelon. I sort of satirized this 2 years ago (here), and, fortunately, most people actually got the joke.

Then, about a year ago, I created the "Bounty of Spain" meme to discuss products that olim import from abroad.

Every once in a while, though, you come across something American in Israel that you wish had just stayed put. Tonight, I saw an ad for some concert featuring "Israel's Justin Timberlake". That's what I mean. We don't need our own Justin Timberlake. We don't even need yours. Can I come up with a list of 5 American imports that we can do without here? Let's try:

1) Annoying pop music. There's good music in America, but it somehow doesn't find its way onto the Israeli radio stations.
2) Survivor. I just don't understand what all the fuss is about, and Israelis are crazy into 'Hisardut'. I've never actually watched the show for more than 5 minutes and by accident, but I do think that the "Survivor" scene on Curb your Enthusiasm is one of the all-time greatest bits of comedy:

3) Curse words. Somehow, several American profanities have worked their way into the Israeli vocabulary, even appearing in advertisements. In general, I'm not a fan of the street English that Israelis seem to absorb so that they can act all 'American'.
4) RC cola.
5) Basketball. I happen to like basketball a lot. I just don't like the way Israelis play. It would have been better had it stayed an American sport

The Treaty of Tripoli

Gotta jump on the bandwagon of spinning the Obama speech. In delineating the long history of Muslim-American relations, he invoked the 1796-1797 Treaty of Tripoli. This is significant for two reasons, one obvious, and one less so.

The obvious significance is that the treaty established the non-Christian nature of the United States. In fact, Article 11 of the treaty, from which the President quoted, reads, in its entirety:

As the Government of the United States of America is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian religion; as it has in itself no character of enmity against the laws, religion, or tranquillity, of Mussulmen; and, as the said States never entered into any war, or act of hostility against any Mahometan nation, it is declared by the parties, that no pretext arising from religious opinions, shall ever produce an interruption of the harmony existing between the two countries.

The point that he was trying to make with this is that America has always been open and tolerant of Islam. Well and good. Point taken.

The other, hidden part of this is the darker underbelly of the true statement that "Islam has always been a part of America's story". The Treaty of Tripoli was a capitulation to privateering. American ships were being captured in the Mediterranean, so the nascent US concluded a "treaty" with the Barbary States in which they agreed to pay a certain amount per year for "protection". Article 10 of said treaty states:

The money and presents demanded by the Bey of Tripoli, as a full and satisfactory consideration on his part, and on the part of his subjects, for this treaty of perpetual peace and friendship, are acknowledged to have been received by him previous to his signing the same...

That's the obscure part. Of course, this was before the US even had a navy. Once they got one, they went and kicked some Tripolitan a** (that's the "... to the shores of Tripoli" part of the Marines' Hymn). So what was he trying to say? Was he trying to reinforce a 200-year-old US policy of capitulating to what was essentially state-sponsored piracy? Was he trying to say that the US can take a bit of thuggery here and there, but don't press your luck? Or am I being too intertextual about this and it was simply an observation that the US and a Muslim country concluded a treaty over 200 years ago, just don't look at it too closely?

In all, I admire BO's optimism. I'm also not sure if anyone has a better chance of bringing about this vision of world peace than he does. I just don't think it's really possible, that's all.

Ushpizin on Shavu'ot

Since making aliyah, we have instituted a custom in our family regarding the night of Shavu'ot. Our meal is graced by the presence of two very important guests who truly enhance our simchat Yom Tov. Their names are Ben and Jerry.

The wife and I each gave a shiur over Yom Tov - the same shiur, more or less, in fact. It's an expansion of this. I generally don't stay up all night anymore. Maybe when the kids are older (more on that below). I made sure to give the shiur at a time that I could still get a decent night's sleep. I had the 12:40- 1:25 am slot. It went very well - there were a lot more people than I expected (I printed 20 source sheets, and there was not even enought for people to double up). The problem was, I got so jacked up on caffeine before the shiur that I could not fall asleep afterward.

My favorite Shavu'ot memory: I must have been 10 or 11. My father and I were learning mishnayot in the wee hours on Shavu'ot morning, in the basement of the shtiebl on Park Heights Avenue, AC on full blast, soda and chips in reach. We got up to the following mishna (Bekhorot 5:3):

One some children were playing in a field, and they tied the tails of two lambs together, and the tail of one of them was disconnected - and it was a firstborn. The incident came before the sages, and they permitted it. They went and tied the tails of other firstborns, and they forbade it...

I remember poring over the books, trying to figure out (er, make heads and tails?) out of the text, and then we get to this little anecdote, and we just lost it. We probably laughed for 10 minutes, imagining these kids tying the tails of sheep together. So what's your 'all time favorite mishna'?