9/06/2007

Talmudic Accounts of the Creation of Man: Part I

[This will be cross-posted to Reshimu, where I will now be a contributor]

The fourth chapter of Masechet Sanhedrin is a treasure-trove of Rabbinic contemplations regarding the creation and station of mankind. The discussion is launched as a result of Mishnaic account of the way in which witnesses in capital cases were impressed with the importance of human life. These Mishnayot themselves are the source of well-known Rabbinic statements such as “One who saves a single [Jewish/human, depending on MSS] life is as if he saved an entire world”, “The world was created for me”, and “Man was created unique”. The Talmud introduces a number of discussions and narratives which expand on this theme of mankind’s creation. I felt it appropriate to look into some of these passages in the days before Rosh Hashana, traditionally celebrated as man’s collective birthday.

We’ll start with a short one, but a good one:
תלמוד בבלי מסכת סנהדרין פרק ד - אחד דיני ממונות דף לח עמוד א-ב
תניא, היה רבי מאיר אומר: אדם הראשון מכל העולם כולו הוצבר עפרו, שנאמר +תהלים קל"ט+ גלמי ראו עיניך, (וכתיב +דברי הימים ב' ט"ז+ כי ה' עיניו משטטות בכל הארץ). אמר רב אושעיא משמיה דרב: אדם הראשון [דף לח עמוד ב] גופו מבבל וראשו מארץ ישראל, ואבריו משאר ארצות. עגבותיו - אמר רב אחא: מאקרא דאגמא.
We have learned that Rabbi Meir used to say: Original Man’s dirt was collected from over the entire world, as it says “Your eyes perceived my form” (Tehillim 139) and it says “The eyes of God scan the entire earth” (Divrei Hayamim II 16). Rav Oshaya says in the name of Rav: Original Man’s body was from Babylon, head was from the Land of Israel, and limbs were from the other lands. What about his buttocks? Rav Acha said: from Akra de-Agma.
There are three distinct statements in this little passage. They are clearly related by their subject matter, as each discusses the origin of Original Man’s dirt. I think it would be a mistake to assume, however, that these statements were said as part of a single discussion (which they clearly weren’t, since they are attributed to Sages who lived centuries and countries apart), or that they even have the same agenda. Thus, each should be evaluated independently.
Rabbi Meir’s statement is very different from the subsequent Amoraic statements. He does not mention particular lands and brings Biblical prooftexts for his assertion. He is saying that man was made from the entire world. What does that mean?

In his Talmudic readings, Levinas asserts, based on the teachings of his mentor, the enigmatic Mr. Shoshani, that whenever the Gemara cites a verse, that verse must be understood in context in order to fully understand the Talmudic passage. I generally like to avoid blanket ‘rules’ about how to learn Gemara – different methods are better for different scenarios – and I’ve come across particular cases where this Levinasian assertion quite clearly seems to fall short. However, in this instance, I believe it to be ‘spot on’. I submit that Chapter 139 of Tehillim would be a fantastic candidate to be the ‘Shir Shel Yom’ of Rosh Hashana. It describes God’s creation of Man and God’s intimate knowledge of Man’s innermost workings. The Psalmist describes his own transparency before God and how he comes to grips with it and even welcomes it, as his allegiance is to God alone. The whole Psalm is permeated with what Rudolf Otto might call “creature feeling”, the feeling of a created entity before its Master and Creator, that sense of absolute dependence, loss of identity, and lack of control.

Thus, on one level, Rabbi Meir is saying that Man is as much a part of Creation as the rest of the world – indeed, on the same page of Gemara, it is suggested that Man was created just before Shabbat so that he would not claim that he participated in Creation. Man is a creature, just like everything else. On the other hand, Rabbi Meir’s statement also suggests something very different. Man’s relationship with the world is not a marriage of distinct entities. Man is of the world. In a sense, the study of the world – physics, chemistry, geology, biology, and so forth – is part of Man’s effort to write his own autobiography. Additionally, this passage expresses a certain universality of Man. No land is preferred over another. All men belong to the whole Earth. This idea can lend itself to an environmentalist reading of this passage as well.

Rav Oshaya, speaking in Rav’s name, does not seem to be the logical conclusion of Rabbi Meir’s statement. Perhaps he works off of Rabbi Meir’s statement, and perhaps not; either way, he is saying something very different. He notices, as the Maharal points out, that different places have different ‘personalities’ just as different parts of the body serve different functions. He is making a statement about the correspondence between human characteristics and the characteristics of various places in the known world. Thus, man’s head, the seat of the spirit and intellect, originates in the Land of Israel, whose very air makes one wise according to Our Sages, who never met an Israeli politician. The supremacy of the Land of Israel in matters of spirit has always been acknowledged as the land of prophecy, as the place on Earth closest to God.
Babylonia, on the other hand, is distinguished by other features. As Maharal notes, the Torah knows Babylon as the cradle of civilization, where Man first built cities, and from where he began to extend his reach across the land. This metaphor of Bavel as the torso from which the appendages begin to reach out parallels the development of mankind as a whole. This passage sees the unfolding of human history as something that was built-in to man’s very creation.

Additionally, if Israel represents man’s spiritual side, then Babylon can lay a strong claim to his physical side. It is, after all, Mesopotamia, the most fertile region of the ancient world. In the Talmudic worldview, these two lands are the important places, and other lands are considered trivial. Perhaps they fulfill functional roles. The notion that the limbs are from the ‘rest of the world’ reflects this bias. Perhaps it can be compared to Israel and the United States in today’s Jewish world. There are other places, but the majority of World Jewry, living in those two places, finds it easy and convenient to ignore everything else.

The last line is by far the most jarring part of this passage. Is Rav Acha serious? Perhaps not. I wonder if he meant it as a joke. I remember my first time at Port Authority in Manhattan; I believe it was on the way to the Siyum Shas at Madison Square Garden almost 20 years ago. I remember that it was like nothing I had ever seen before in terms of the griminess and promiscuity of the place (before the city decided to clean it up). I remember my father quoting my uncle as saying that if God had to give the world an enema, He’d stick the nozzle in Port Authority. Is Rav Acha expressing a similar sentiment? The Sefer Ha-Aggadah understands that Akra de-Agma was indeed a promiscuous place.

Alternatively, maybe it’s not a joke. Every part of the human anatomy serves a function, however unpleasant. Perhaps the same can be said of the Earth. We need coal mines and peat bogs, too. Cities need dumps, sewage treatment plants, and all sorts of other industries which are essential but which I’d prefer not to live near. Perhaps Rav Acha is reminding us to appreciate these places, even if from a distance.

9/02/2007

One Tale of Two Cities, and Two Tales of One

Kiryat Sefer, also known as Modiin Ilit is a completely Chareidi city of about 30,000. It has no basketball courts. In a lot of ways, it’s like a Bizzarro version of Modiin – both are called Modiin. One is called ‘The City of the Future’ and the other is called ‘The Chareidi City of the Future’. Both are populated mainly by young families. In Modiin, there are barely any chareidim. In Kiryat Sefer, pretty much everyone is chareidi. Both are teeming with kids. I've posted about Kiryat Sefer before - here, here, here, here, here, and here.

There are many Modiin residents who shop in Kiryat Sefer, which is about 12 minutes away by car. There are some products that are more available or cheaper there. There are even people (women, basically) who have special clothes for when they shop in Kiryat Sefer (skirts, shawls, head-coverings), so that they do not offend the locals.

This past Friday, we ran some errands in Kiryat Sefer. One was that we are trying to get a stroller which was damaged by El Al repaired. We also picked up some fruits and vegetables. The store which sells strollers would be called a basement business in the U.S. In Israel, it’s a living room business. The entire front part of the house is filled with products for newborns and toddlers. He took the stroller and estimated that it would cost about 100 NIS to get fixed. A new (inferior quality) stroller would be 160 NIS.

Another couple shopping there looked at us incredulously as we ordered the repair. El Al had told us that if we could not repair the stroller, then they would reimburse us for a new one. So why didn’t we just get the new one? My said that we can’t get a new one because the old one could be fixed. Yes, they countered, but El Al doesn’t have to know that. At this point, the store/homeowner added that he would be happy to write El Al a letter stating that he cannot fix the stroller. Yet, my wife insisted, that would be a lie.

Later, near the supermarket just a few blocks away, I noticed that there is a newsstand on the street. This was not a newsstand that looked like the ones that I am familiar with. There was a table with two piles – one with the Yated Ne’eman, the other with HaModia. Two slotted boxes (pushkes) were mounted on the wall above the papers, each labeled with the name of one of the papers. The papers were sold on the honor system, completely and totally.

These stories, having happened so close together both spatially and temporally, generated a bit of cognitive dissonance. How was it possible that one could assume such a degree of honesty that one could leave merchandise literally on the street and know that he would be adequately compensated, and at the same time it was all but assumed that one could tell a lie in order to gain a larger reimbursement check from a corporation that damaged his property?

We were baffled, but came up with a few working theories to explain the phenomenon, and also a few that don’t work. I’m not totally satisfied, so I’d be curious to hear more:

· ‘Us vs. Them’ – this is the most obvious explanation, but one which I don’t think is true. The theory would be that there’s more tolerance for theft from non-chareidi entities than there is for those who are ‘ana”sh’ or ‘fun unzere’. I don’t buy it. If the guy leaving the papers there was not Chareidi, and everybody knew it, he could still expect to find sufficient payment in the box. If it was a goy, it might be a different story (not that it’s justified), but I don’t think that the property of a fellow Jew would be treated so disrespectfully.

· Individual vs. Corporate – if I don’t pay for the paper, the guy who put it there loses money. A guy who sells newspapers on the street for a living is not a terribly wealthy guy. If we don’t pay him, he takes home less cash that week, his Shabbos table is a bit more bare, there’s a bit more stress in the house. Nebech. I’ve got to pay this guy; it’s his parnassah. On the other hand, El Al is a large corporation. Nobody goes hungry if they lose and extra 50 shekel here or there. The owners are so wealthy that they won’t even notice if it’s 5000 shekel.

· Pragmatic – if we screw the newspaper guy, he’ll stop selling papers here because he’s losing money on it. Our community is his entire clientele. Who will sell us papers, then? But if we screw El Al, what are they going to do, stop letting us fly with them? They tested those waters already, and found them to be quite uninhabitable. They need our business. Besides, we’re still a minority of their customers. Who says they would even notice that one sector claims higher damages than another sector? And who says that other sectors don’t claim damages that are just as high?

· Restoring Balance – I don’t know the guy who sells me the paper, but I have nothing to do with him otherwise. I’m paying him for this one service, and that’s the extent of our relationship. But El Al is different. Do you know how much they charge for flights? I have a family of seven! They jack up the prices during bein hazmanim because they know that’s when we travel! This 50 shekel is a pittance compared to all the money that I’ve flushed down the toilet with them. Besides, I’ve had delays which forced us to alter our plans and spend extra money, I had to make 25 phone calls, on my own dime, before they acknowledged that they damaged or lost my luggage – they owe me!

· Theft vs. Bargaining – I’m not actually ‘stealing’ from El Al. They are willing to pay for a new one anyway. They realize that they owe me money. If they really wanted to save, they could get it fixed themselves. When they send me that check, it will be wholehearted and without me pointing a gun at their heads. But to just grab something that it not yours? That’s burglary! That’s something a common house-thief would do! Chas ve-Shalom that I would just take something that doesn’t belong to me!

Any other thoughts?

9/01/2007

Getting One’s Wires Crossed

Here’s a gem of a Devar Torah (the link will change within a week; it’s the DT for Ki Savo 5767). Especially the end, where the writer, shlit”a, defines an “Androginus” as “A ‘man’ who is bi’sexual”. I really hope that this issue is merely one of vocabulary.

8/30/2007

Chana, Eli, and Shmuel part III; A reading of Brachot 31b

You can see the first two parts of this installment here and here. I really like the story that appears at the beginning of Sefer Shmuel (Chapters 1-3), and I am currently teaching it. Since the first part is the Haftarah for the first day of Rosh Hashana, it’s inyana de-yoma.

My basic approach to the story remains the same. Eli represents entrenched religious establishment. Chana represents those for whom the establishment does not work, and who actively or passively rebels. Shmuel represents the synthesis between the two.

When teaching this, I found the following question very useful in getting my students to really think in terms of the human drama of the story: Who did Elkanah marry first, Chana or Peninah? Depending on the answer, totally different pictures emerge.

Elkanah himself is a ‘typology’ as well – he’s the wealthy balabus. He’s got a big family, money, and yiches. There’s a midrash that lists Elkanah as one of four blameless people who ever lived (I believe the other three are Yishai, Binyamin, and Mephiboshet). That’s exactly who he was. A really good guy. No enemies. The good life. Thus, he’s totally down with the religious establishment, because it’s good for him. The real test of any social system, including a socio-religious system, is not how it deals with the average or above-average, but how it deals with those on the margins, like childless women.

So lets say, as the psukim seem to indicate, that Chana was Elkanah’s first wife. After however many childless years, Elkanah wanted to start a family so he married another woman, Peninah, who proceeds to bear him many children. How would Chana feel? Superfluous, replaced, alone, inadequate – these are some of the words you might use to describe her situation.

Now imagine the other scenario. Elkanah marries Peninah and raises a large family. After a while, the wealthy Elkanah marries a second woman, who never has any kids. How does Chana feel? It might depend on what everyone else thinks. Did people think she was sugar-daddy Elkanah’s trophy wife? Did people look at her like she was the Anna-Nicole Smith of Ancient Samaria? In such a scenario, she would have a completely different set of feelings to motivate her – shame, invalidation as anything more than eye-candy, objectification.

Just asking the question generated a fantastic discussion.

I also noticed another point about Eli. He and his sons run the show at Shilo. That much is clear. But there’s one image of Eli sitting at the doorpost of the Sanctuary which really sums it all up. He is acting as God’s gatekeeper. He (and his sons) is trying to control access to God. This comes out in several other ways as well (see the earlier posts) – including Rashi on the words ‘lo adoni’, where he has Chana saying that Eli is ‘not her master’ – and that she can approach God without him. And, finally, in the following Gemara in Brachot 31b:

תלמוד בבלי מסכת ברכות דף לא עמוד ב

אל הנער הזה התפללתי, - אמר רבי אלעזר: שמואל מורה הלכה לפני רבו היה, שנאמר: וישחטו את הפר ויביאו את הנער אל עלי, משום דוישחטו את הפר הביאו הנער אל עלי? אלא, אמר להן עלי: קראו כהן, ליתי ולשחוט. חזנהו שמואל דהוו מהדרי בתר כהן למישחט, אמר להו: למה לכו לאהדורי בתר כהן למישחט? שחיטה בזר כשרה! אייתוהו לקמיה דעלי, אמר ליה: מנא לך הא? אמר ליה: מי כתיב ושחט הכהן? והקריבו הכהנים כתיב! מקבלה ואילך מצות כהונה; מכאן לשחיטה שכשרה בזר. אמר ליה: מימר שפיר קא אמרת, מיהו, מורה הלכה בפני רבך את - וכל המורה הלכה בפני רבו חייב מיתה. אתיא חנה וקא צוחה קמיה: אני האשה הנצבת עמכה בזה וגו'. אמר לה: שבקי לי דאענשיה, ובעינא רחמי ויהיב לך רבא מיניה. אמרה ליה: אל הנער הזה התפללתי.

“I prayed for this child”: Rabbi Elazar said: Shmuel made a halakhic ruling before his master, as it says, “And they slaughtered the bull, and they brought the lad in front of Eli.” Did they bring the lad to Eli because they slaughtered a bull? Rather, Eli had said to them, ‘Let a Kohein come and slaughter the bull.’ Shmuel saw that they were scrambling around for a Kohein to do the slaughtering. He said to them, “Why are you looking for a Kohein to do the slaughtering? A non-Kohein is authorized to slaughter!” They brought him before Eli. He [Eli] said to him [Shmuel]: “How do you know this?” He replied: “Does it says ‘and the Kohein shall slaughter?’ It says, ‘and the Kohein will offer’. From the acceptance [of the blood] on, it is the mitzvah of the Kohanim. This teaches that a non-Kohein is authorized to slaughter.” He [Eli] said, “What you say is good. However, you have made a halakhic ruling before your master, and anyone who makes a halakhic ruling before his master is punishable by death.” Chana came and cried before him, “I am the woman who stood before you here…” He said to her, “Leave him, so that I may punish him, and I will pray, and He will give you a greater child than this one.” She said to him, “I prayed for this child.”

I thank Ace from Talpiot for calling my attention to this Gemara in a comment he left a few years ago (I wonder if he remembers).

The whole thing works right into the theme we’ve been developing. The Kohanim are monopolizing access to God. Even that which is permitted to non-Kohanim is being usurped – perhaps not even intentionally. The Kohein’s role as the middle-man between God and Israel does not mean that Israel cannot get to God but through them – that would be the Catholic Church. But perhaps Eli is indeed practicing a proto-Catholic type of Israelite religion, where the priesthood sees itself not as providing access to God, but as providing exclusive access. That is precisely the issue which Chaza”l have Shmuel calling him on. Just as his mother defied Eli by insisting on paving her own way to God, Shmuel defies him by limiting the cultic control of the Kohanim.

Eli’s response makes a number of assumptions. The halakha is that a student must distance himself from his master’s place in order to pasken without committing a capital crime. Eli’s accusation thus rests on two assumptions: a. Eli is Shmuel’s ‘master’ even though they had just met; b. the Mishkan at Shilo was Eli’s ‘place’. Neither assumption is obvious, yet by making both, Eli is telegraphing his attitude toward the Mishkan and his role within it. It should also be noted that Shmuel’s offense is not considered punishable by human courts. As we noted in an earlier post, Eli seems to have blurred the lines between himself and God.

The last line of the sugya, which is a quote from the verse itself, can be read in two ways. What is Chana’s contention when Eli (again, playing God) promises to give her another child? She says, “I prayed for this child.” I think that at first glace, the emphasized word should be ‘this’. “I prayed for THIS child, not another. You can’t take him away from me.” But perhaps is should be read thus: “I prayed for this child. It’s very nice that YOU can promise me another one, but I want the one that I prayed for myself. This is the child of my prayer – and nobody else’s (despite Eli’s ‘addition’ that Chana’s prayer would be heeded).” This reading is reinforced by the very name she gives her son – Shmuel, ‘because I asked God for him.’

Today is my Havztim Rab

Because I turn 31 today according to the Hebrew calendar.

And because I have to find something interesting about an otherwise completely unremarkable birthday. I mean, prime numbers are so boring.

8/28/2007

Shemittah is from Mars; Yovel is from Venus

I gave my first class on Sheviit today. We went through the different places where the Chumash discusses, or might discuss, Shemittah. All in all, it went pretty well, I think.

I did notice one thing, however. As opposed to most other areas of Halacha where there’s some basic familiarity and application to life, this is an area which is completely and totally foreign to the average Chutznik. It was like we were discussing Buddhism.

In truth, I had similar sentiments while learning Masechet Sheviit. It’s hard to get into the head of a farmer, let alone one from late antiquity. Yet, this is a very real and contemporary issue. My goal is that these students experience shemittah and all of its socio-religious implications. After all, Shemittah was intended to accomplish something; in an agrarian society, the meaning of Shemittah would have been truly experienced. The vast majority of us really only experience Shemittah as consumers (yes, even those of us who ‘buy’ small plots of land in Israel in order to let them fallow for the year). I want to try to learn what it would be like to experience it as a producer.

8/27/2007

Hakhel

In just about a month, we would have the opportunity for the mitzvah of hakhel, on Chol Ha-Mo’ed Sukkot of the Shemittah year. Well, according to Ibn Ezra, anyway. I was startled to discover that Ibn Ezra, against pretty much everyone else, says that Hakhel was performed during the Shemittah year itself, and not the year after Shemittah.

During my little bit of research, I came upon several different ideas regarding what Hakhel was intended to accomplish, and, consequently, why it was performed when it was. First, the verses themselves:

דברים פרק לא

(י) וַיְצַו מֹשֶׁה אוֹתָם לֵאמֹר מִקֵּץ שֶׁבַע שָׁנִים בְּמֹעֵד שְׁנַת הַשְּׁמִטָּה בְּחַג הַסֻּכּוֹת:
(יא) בְּבוֹא כָל יִשְׂרָאֵל לֵרָאוֹת אֶת פְּנֵי יְדֹוָד אֱלֹהֶיךָ בַּמָּקוֹם אֲשֶׁר יִבְחָר תִּקְרָא אֶת הַתּוֹרָה הַזֹּאת נֶגֶד כָּל יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּאָזְנֵיהֶם:
(יב) הַקְהֵל אֶת הָעָם הָאֲנָשִׁים וְהַנָּשִׁים וְהַטַּף וְגֵרְךָ אֲשֶׁר בִּשְׁעָרֶיךָ לְמַעַן יִשְׁמְעוּ וּלְמַעַן יִלְמְדוּ וְיָרְאוּ אֶת יְדֹוָד אֱלֹהֵיכֶם וְשָׁמְרוּ לַעֲשׂוֹת אֶת כָּל דִּבְרֵי הַתּוֹרָה הַזֹּאת:
(יג) וּבְנֵיהֶם אֲשֶׁר לֹא יָדְעוּ יִשְׁמְעוּ וְלָמְדוּ לְיִרְאָה אֶת יְדֹוָד אֱלֹהֵיכֶם כָּל הַיָּמִים אֲשֶׁר אַתֶּם חַיִּים עַל הָאֲדָמָה אֲשֶׁר אַתֶּם עֹבְרִים אֶת הַיַּרְדֵּן שָׁמָּה לְרִשְׁתָּהּ:

And Moshe commanded them: At the end of seven years, during the time of the Shemittah year, on the festival of Sukkot, when all of Israel comes to appear before God at the place that He will choose, you shall read this Torah before all of Israel, in their ears. Gather the nation – men, women, children, and immigrants who are in your midst in order that they hear and in order that they study, and they will fear the Lord, your God, and they will observe the performance of this whole Torah. And your sons who did not know will hear and learn to fear the Lord, your God, as long as you live on the land that you are crossing the Jordan in order to inherit. (Devarim 31:10-13)

  • Ibn Ezra, ad loc, states that this was supposed to take place during the Shemittah year itself. He says that, like Shabbat, the purpose of Shemittah is to provide an opportunity to turn away from mundane pursuits and to engage in more spiritually edifying endeavors. Hakhel, which comes at the outset of Shemittah, is a sort of inaugural Shemittah kick-off event whose purpose is to get everybody – even children and non-Jewish immigrants – engaged in Torah. Incidentally, the phrase ‘mi-ketz sheva shanim’ can be interpreted either as during or after Shemittah – see Devarim 15:10
  • The traditional interpretation (Gemara, Rashi, et al) is that Hakhel occurs during the eighth year. It is called Shemittah because it is still being observed de facto in that there’s really not much for a farmer to do then. Perhaps this is why that time was chosen – it’s convenient for everybody, and doesn’t interrupt any farm work. Thus, as indicated in several Rishonim (Rasa”g, Chinukh), the choice of the eighth year is simply coincidental. There should be a gathering of the entire nation every seven years in order to read the Torah publicly and transmit it to those who were not familiar with it, and in order that people hear it and continue to learn it. The choice of Sukkot, a pilgrimage festival, and the eighth year, when there was little, if any, ‘gathering’ taking place in the field, was for convenience.
  • Rabbeinu Bachya provides a rationale which links Hakhel directly to the post-Shemittah year. He relates the seven-year Shemittah cycle, as well as the seven-day Shabbat cycle, to a grater, cosmic Creation cycle in which the world exists for seven ‘millenia’ (purposefully in parentheses), six of ‘creation’ and one of ‘destruction’. The beginning of the first year after Shemitta represents the beginning of a new creation cycle. Therefore, the Torah, which is the world’s blueprint, is read at the site of the Temple, from where the world was created. Thus, according to Rabbeinu Bachya, Hakhel is a mythic re-enactment of the world’s creation after its symbolic destruction during the Shemittah year.
So we have three explanations – the educational, the practical, and the mythic. I think that each one provides a valuable perspective on this mitzvah and, indeed, on the mitzvah of Shemittah as well.

8/26/2007

Kashrut on El Al

I have a funny hakpadah. Whenever I fly El Al, I am makpid not to order 'special' kosher meals. I find it to be a slap in their face. Every meal that El Al serves is kosher, despite the fact that not everyone who flies with El Al keeps kosher or, for that matter, is Jewish. They do this because they are Israel’s national airline and they understand (indeed, it is mandated by law) that they are the airline of the Jewish people. Providing kosher food is much more expensive than providing regular airline food.

I feel that to insist on a ‘special’ kosher meal on El Al flights is to fail to acknowledge the real effort and expense that El Al incurs by providing kosher food to all of its passengers. If I ordered a special meal, I would feel guilty for broadcasting to the other El Al passengers that I don’t think their food is kosher ‘enough’ (let alone that I’d feel guilty about getting my meal before everybody else).

That said, I always order the chicken.

My experiences from last week introduced a new variable into my thinking about El Al. As I wrote, our flight was grounded until after Shabbat. El Al played by the rules – the flight didn’t leave until after Shabbat, and we were all provided with kosher food. However, I got the impression that El Al was not concerned about creating a Shabbat environment. We didn’t stick around for Shabbat because nobody (but me) was worrying about organizing minyanim, getting a Sefer Torah, grape juice, tea lights, or Challah. For all I know, we would have been served airline food all Shabbat, as we were served airline food for lunch on Friday.

Interestingly enough, that never would have happened on another airline. Another airline, knowing nothing about Judaism, would have made every effort to insure that its passengers were well taken care of, would have contacted the local Jewish community about accommodations, and would have taken every passenger request seriously. El Al, because it supposedly ‘knows’ the religious customer, did what it normally does without thinking that this case might be different, or that this case might involve a host of issues that it is not equipped to deal with.

UPDATE: Now that I think about it more (thanks to BZ's comment), maybe it's just about expectations. Maybe with another airline I would never even expect a kosher meal or Shabbat arrangements, and it's on;y disappointing because El Al takes Shabbat into account, but doesn't come all the way through.

8/22/2007

30-3

That’s even a blowout in football. Most runs given up in the modern era. Most lopsided loss in the modern era. Ouch.