Four Approaches to Fasting

Why do we fast? What is fasting supposed to accomplish?

Within Judaism and other religions, fasting is conceptualized in different ways. There are three, possibly four different approaches, only one of which has biblical support.

The first approach sees fasting as a form of expiation: my bodily suffering serves as retribution for bodily sin. I experience a little bit of pain or a little bit of death, and that cleanses me from the stigma of transgression. The pre-Yom Kippur ‘Tefilah Zakah’ prayer is an excellent example of this idea within the Jewish tradition. Line after line, the prayer expresses the hope that each element of suffering purges a corresponding area of sin: not wearing leather shoes atones for when my feet ran to do evil, not eating atones for forbidden foods I consumed, and so forth. The traditional ‘BeHa”B’ fasts are in this vein as well - fasts were observed after major Jewish holidays to atone for conspicuous consumption during the holidays.


The second approach views fasting as sobering corrective. I return to spirit by denying the body. By removing the distractions of the flesh I am able to turn back to the soul and nourish it with what it requires. This is the classic Platonic view of asceticism, that the body actually impedes the soul. One need not take an extreme ascetic view in order to see fasting as a manifestation of this idea; just as easily, fasting might be an attempt to restore balance between body and spirit. It is a temporary measure to create a certain atmosphere for a brief period of time, after which things return to normal. Perhaps the mitzvah to eat on the day before Yom Kippur echoes this view that asceticism has value, yet must be tempered. In the contemporary milieu, a form of this approach is advocated by those who cast fasts as days to reflect on personal food choices.


A third possible approach was taken by R. Tzadok Ha-kohen of Lublin. He turned the equation on its head by reconceptualizing fasting not as a set of behaviors intended to effect change, but as a set of behaviors that reflect a mood. On Yom Kippur, when your life hangs in the balance, food is the last thing on your mind. How can you think about eating? On Tisha B'Av, while contemplating the smoldering ruin of God's Temple and the destruction of Jewish civilization, who even has an appetite? Who can eat?


A fourth approach is implied in Chapter 58 of Isaiah, which is tellingly recited as the Haftara on the morning of Yom Kippur. The prophet begins by criticizing those who fast and beat their chests while continuing to oppress and persecute. He declares that this is not the fast that God wants. What, then, is the fast that God wants?

Is it not to...loose the fetters of wickedness, undo the bands of the yoke, let the oppressed go free, and break every yoke? Is it not to deal your bread to the hungry, and bring the homeless poor to your house? when thou see the naked, that you cover him, and that you do not ignore your own flesh? (Isa. 58:6-7)

 At first blush, the contrast seems to fail. The "fast that God desires" is not a fast at all - it is feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, and sheltering the homeless. On further contemplation, however, an entirely different conceptualization of fasting emerges.


A Jewish "fast" is more than not eating or drinking. It included wearing sackcloth and ashes as well as congregating in public places to pray and mourn (see, for example, Mishna Taanit 2:1 or Ch. 4 of the Book of Esther). Isaiah's prescription for the fast that God desires addresses precisely these elements: when you gather in the town square to call out to God, think of the people who sleep there at night because they have no home. When you feel the pangs of hunger after not eating for a day, think about those for whom this is a regular occurrence. When you don your sackcloth and ashes and take off your comfortable shoes, remember that there are those who do not have what to wear. The point of fasting is to sensitize us to those for whom such denials are a daily occurrence, and not by choice.


This approach to fasting is shared by Islam. According to Islamic law, one who cannot fast on Ramadan must instead feed the poor for a day. This link between fasting and feeding the poor is precisely the same as the one made by Isaiah.


The Jewish people, if not prophets, remain the children of the prophets (b. Pesachim 66a). Although the synagogue has replaced the public square as the site of our fasts, and although Isaiah's linkage of fasting with social welfare goes largely ignored, it is refreshing and inspiring to see that the core instinct has not completely evaporated. Over the summer, hundreds of thousands of Israelis took to the streets to protests their country's lack of social justice. Regardless of one's opinion of the protests' aims, this linkage between voluntary homelessness and sensitivity to social ills harks back to the prophecy of Isaiah.

Marginalia

Shai Secunda and I have co-authored a review of Joseph Cedar's award winning film Footnote (He'arat Shulayim). Our review appears in the new issue of Jewish Review of Books, and has appeared just in time for the film's Oscar nomination in the category of Best Foreign Film.

In the same issue, Yehudah Mirsky reviews By Faith Alone, the biography of Rav Amital that I translated.

Both reviews are currently behind a pay wall. JRB occasionally unlocks some articles. I'll let you know if the articles are made available.

UPDATE: The Mirsky review is no longer blocked. Read it here. [h/t: Nate and Reuven].
UPDATE #2: Now the Footnote review is unblocked. Read it here.

The Tikvah Fund and Straussophobia

My response to Zachary Braiterman's critique of the Tikvah Fund is now up on Hirhurim and eJewish Philanthropy.
Enjoy!

No Praise for Folly

The New York and Jewish media is abuzz with the tragic story of Rabbi David Reichenberg, who lost his life in an attempt to save two neighbors, a father and son, who were entangled in live downed electrical wires during Hurricane Irene. R. Reichenberg is being nearly unanimously hailed as a hero for his act of supreme altruism and selflessness.
[Note: Reports differ in their descriptions of the events. Compare the first report I read to the one that later appeared in the New York Daily News].
Yet it is probable that R. Reichenberg was halakhically forbidden to do what he did, and there is a danger in lionizing actions that were, by all indications, misguided. I therefore write the following not, God forbid, to minimize the heroic virtue displayed by R. Reichenberg or to argue that he was anything less than deserving of the praise that will undoubtedly be heaped upon him. My goal is rather to argue that his actions (as opposed to his virtues) are not worthy of emulation, and that it is important to teach what Jewish law says about such instances, so that lives are not unnecessarily forfeited in the future.
The question of whether one may endanger himself to save another has arisen often, and in various contexts, over the years. It is obviously a very thorny issue, but the nature of the beast is that everyone must have some kind of guideline, since there is little time to start clarifying positions when cases arise (though occasionally there are - for example the dilemma of whether to donate a vital organ such as a kidney or partial liver to save a life). These are the basic guidelines:

• There is a duty to save another's life. The Torah enshrines this duty in Lev. 19:16: "Do not stand idly by the blood of your neighbor." In Judaism, there is such thing as a "guilty bystander".
• One is not required to risk his life to save another life.
• One is permitted to risk his life to save another life as long as the risk to the would-be-savior is justified by a greater (or possibly equal, as long as it is not a definite case of trading one life for another) reduction in the risk to the endangered party.

Obviously, it is impossible to conduct a statistical evaluation at the zero hour. Yet the would-be-savior must quickly assess that the risk he incurs to himself is not greater than the chances that he saves the endangered party. Risk can be assessed in terms of how things are generally perceived by society. The case of R. Reichenberg seems to clearly have been such a case where one should not act. Perhaps it will emerge that this assessment is incorrect, but when live wires and copious amounts of water are involved, I suspect it will stand.
I hope that I never have to make such a decision, and I can imagine that it would be excruciatingly difficult to decide not to act. On some level, though, deciding to act is easy - either I will be a hero or will fail; I will not have to live my life thinking that maybe I could have saved that kid.
So where does that leave us with R. Reichenberg? Ambivalent. We can certainly praise the virtues that motivated him to act, but Judaism is a religion of duty before virtue. We ought to resist what Prof. David Shatz calls the "halo effect" created when someone does a morally wrong act as an expression of virtuous character. And if the final analysis shows that R. Reichenberg's actions were indeed reckless and foolhardy - that he incurred significant risk to his own life without much of a chance of helping the others - it would be warranted to apply another epithet - that of hasid shoteh, or 'pious fool'.
With the school year beginning now, and this tragic case still all over the news, it behooves Jewish (and non-Jewish) educators to devote a lesson or two to clarifying the question of when self-sacrifice and altruism are unwarranted and even morally problematic.

Sources and further reading:
Igrot Moshe YD II:174:4 [Heb]
Radbaz III:627 [Heb]
David Shatz, "As Thyself: The Limits of Altruism in Jewish Ethics" in Reverence, Righteousness, and Rahmanut: Essays in Memory of Rabbi Dr. Leo Jung
Yitzchak Blau, "The Implications of a Jewish Virtue Ethic", Torah U-Madda Journal 9
Naftali Bar-Ilan, "Be-inyan Mi  She-torem Lev O Kaved Le-hashtala" [Heb]
Eliezer Melamed, "Hatzalat Nefashot" [Heb]

The Morethodox Don't Say 'She-lo Asani Isha'

This week, the Morethodox chevre wrote several posts (1, 2, 3, 4)about she-lo asani isha [full disclosure: I'm not a regular reader of Morethodox; not my cup of tea]. Their basic argument is that the berakha of  she-asani Yisrael should be salvaged from the halakhic scrap-heap and instituted, thereby obviating, according to one acharon, the need to say all three berakhot (she-lo asani goy... eved... isha).
I have mixed feelings about the approach. I'd never suggest that someone who practices it is being non-halakhic or making a berakha in vain. On the other hand, what can I say, I have a real aversion to altering matbei'a shel berakhot that have been accepted (note: this does not refer to the introductory material of a berakha, but the actual conclusion of the berakha itself; I believe the other material to be more flexible and free-style within constraints - how can one not after learning the 7th chapter of Berakhot?).
However, I don't think the solution they present is the only, or even the best, option. A long time ago (in one of my earliest posts, from over 6 years ago), I offered several other solutions to the dilemma (I referred to the Morethodox solution as 'hackneyed', along with the solution that everyone loves to cite based on a 13th century Provencal manuscript). I still believe that the best solution would be for everyone, men and women alike, to recite she-asani ki-rtzono. Read the full post here. Also check out JID's look at the issue - with some excellent links to other sources - here.

Was Ralph Branca Fasting when he Served Up the Shot Heard Round the World?

The New York Times today reports that Ralph Branca's mother was born a Jew. This might explain why he gave up the infamous homer to Bobby Thompson - October 3, 1951 was, in fact, Tzom Gedalia! (confirmed by HebCal!)
The idea that Branca was fasting was presciently suggested by Rav Aharon Lichtenstein (to R. Binyamin Tabory). I wrote about that here.

The Slaughterhouse Rules

I have written an article about shechita and government regulation, which is today's feature on Jewish Ideas Daily. It represents part of my efforts to educate myself about the food choices that I make on behalf of myself and my family.
Not long ago, I posted about my grandfather's job as a shochet and the tension between his slaughterhouse and government inspectors. I've done a bit more digging (not a ton) and found that there was a concerted effort around that time to get rid of small, local slaughterhouses and consolidate into larger ones. Regulations were designed to favor consolidation, as only the largest plants could afford what the government required (but only the largest plants needed all the safeguards that regulations mandated). With the proliferation of regulations, the slaughterhouse had something like 6 full-time inspectors, causing my grandfather to quip, "I wish the boys in Vietnam would get the same level of medical care that my chickens get."  This actually dovetails with what I learned from reading The Omnivore's Dilemma.
Of course, there is legislation that kosher slaughterhouses must implement, and legislation they are exempt from or actually oppose. To distinguish between actual slaughter practices and the handling of the animal before and after slaughter may fall short; for example, there was no opposition to the regulation that animals could not touch the ground after slaughter, and the shackle-and-hoist method was implemented relatively easily after 1906's  Food and Drug Act. I haven't found a distinction that works.
In any event, enjoy the article, and "od chazon la-mo'ed."

Jews with Tattoos

The tragic and untimely death of Amy Winehouse has raised the not-so-age-old question of whether Jews with tattoos can be buried in Jewish cemeteries. Apparently, this myth is so pervasive that it is even believed by large segments of the traditionally observant Jewish community. Although the "primary sources" for this myth seem to be popular culture - a line from Lenny Bruce's autobiography, an episode of the Nanny (4:9), an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm - discussions on mainstream media blogs, as well as the first question I was ever asked on an interdenominational panel, indicate that the myth is widely believed.

I am hopeful that the emerging discussion will lay to rest, once and for all, this terrible falsehood. Tattoos - perhaps because of their associations with the Holocaust, perhaps because of their indelibility, but who really knows? - remained taboo for Jews who had given up many other observances (when a distant relative started going out seriously with a non-Jew, the immediate family wasn't terribly happy, but they made their peace with it; but when they found out he has a tattoo, all hell broke loose). The tattoo taboo seems to have disappeared in recent decades, and perhaps the young generation has latched onto this myth as a way of conceptualizing the earlier generations' opposition. Alternatively, perhaps the earlier generation latched onto it because it allows them to distinguish between tattoos and the myriad observances that they abandoned. In either case, a myth is a myth, and it will hopefully be recognized as such.

My favorite Jewish teaching about tattoos is a responsum from Dayan Yitzchak Yaakov Weiss, which is reproduced and translated below. The greatness of the responsum is that it does not moralize or criticize, implicitly acknowledging that a tattoo, in the eyes of Jewish law, is a discretionary error like any other, which need not limit access to the Jewish community, living or dead:

שו"ת מנחת יצחק חלק ג סימן יא

ע"ד אחד ששימש כחייל, ובצבא שם לו כתובת קעקע ביד שמאל, במקום הנחת תפילין, תמונה של אשה ערומה, שא"א להסירה מבשרו, ועכשיו נעשה בעל תשובה, והתחיל להתפלל, ורוצה לדעת אם יכול להניח תפילין ביד שמאל, על אותה התמונה, או שיניח ביד ימין.

(א) הנה בהשקפה ראשונה נלענ"ד, דאף דהוי דבר מגונה מאד, ויש שאלה אם רשאי לברך, בשעה שהתמונה מגולה, וכמו שמבואר באחרונים מזה, דיש לומר דשייך משום טפח באשה ערוה, גם בתמונה פוטוגרפית ... אבל עכ"פ לא נסתלק המציאות מיד השמאל, שהוא היד הכהה, ולדעתי היות שמקום יש בזרוע להניח שתי תפילין, כמבואר בש"ע (או"ח סי' כ"ז סעי' ז'), וא"כ אף אם יהי' התמונה מתפשטת בכל הקיבורת, הלא אפשר לכסות חלק גדול ממנה בתמידית, ורק להניח פנוי מקום הנחת תפילין (ויעשה לו תפילין קטנים שאפשר עפ"י דין), אשר באותו מקום לא יתראה כ"כ צורתה, ושם יניח התפילה ש"י, וכמובן שבשעת הברכה יהי' מכוסה כל המקום, וגם הכסוי שמכסה החלק ממנה בתמידית, יהי' נעשה מעור דק מאד, באופן שאם בשוגג ישמטו התפילין קצת על מקום הכיסוי, יהי' אפשר לצרף השיטה דשייך בזה ג"כ משום מב"מ =מין במינו= אינו חוצץ… וצ"ע עוד בזה, וכפי מה שאומרים אפשר להעביר ע"י בקיאים כתובת קעקע.

Responsa Minchat Yitzchak (R’ Yitzchak Yaakov Weiss) 3:11

Regarding one who served in the army, where he got an indelible tattoo of a naked woman on his left arm, in the place where one lays tefilliin. He has now become a baal teshuvah and wishes to know if he can place his tefillin on his left hand, on top of the image, or if he should place it on his right arm.

It seems at first glance, in my humble opinion, that even though it is a contemptible thing, and there’s a question if he can make a bracha when the picture is uncovered, as the latter authorities explain, that ‘tefach be-isha ervah’ applies to a photographic image as well…nevertheless the weaker left arm still exists. In my opinion, since there is room on the bicep for two tefillin (see Shulchan Arukh OC 27:7), so that even if the image covered the entire bicep, it’s possible to permanently cover a large portion of it, and to leave open only the place where he lays tefillin (and he should get the smallest kosher tefillin possible) in a way that her form won’t be seen that much in that spot, and there he should lay his arm tefillin. When he makes the bracha, the entire area should be covered. Also. The permanent cover for most of the image should be made of thin leather, so that if the tefillin slip onto the cover, it’s possible to rely on the opinion that a similar material doesn’t constitute a barrier…and this requires further study since they say that experts can remove tattoos.

Summer Speaking Schedule

I'll be speaking several times while visiting the US over the next few weeks. Here's the schedule:

Shabbat afternoon at 6:55pm, July 23, Beth Tfiloh Congregation, Baltimore, MD.

Topic: "Killing the Rabbis: A Reading of Berakhot 48a"

Shabbat Hazon, August 5-6, at Beit Chaverim of Norwalk/Westport, CT.

“Religion and State in Israel: Is there a Solution that can Work for Everyone?”

“What Makes a Good Jewish Community on Campus?”

“Old Mourning: What Keeps Tisha B’Av Relevant?” 

Tisha B'Av at Ohaev Shalom - The National Synagogue, Washington DC

Morning: A Tisha B'Av related topic, TBD

Late afternoon: A topic related to R. Amital's life and work, TBD.

If you're in the neighborhood, drop in.

Tisha B'Av