MESSAGE FROM OUR RABBI
A Jewish approach on diversity...
I want to dedicate this Drash to the memory of my mother, Joan Sinai, Yehudit Miryam bat Yoel U’Bashya, on the occasion of her 6th Yahrzeit. My mother was a warm woman who loved her Judaism and loved teaching others about Judaism and the Hebrew language. She was famed for her hospitality, her love of the holidays, and her chocolate-filled and peanut butter and jelly hamantaschen, among many wonderful other traits. She raised me with a deep appreciation for diversity, within the Jewish community and beyond the Jewish community. I grew up in Albany, NY which has 6 Jewish congregations within the city limits: two are Orthodox, two are Conservative, and two are Reform. She made it clear that while she was a member of 2 of these synagogues, all of them were part of the community and she supported me in attending all of them and exploring the range of opinions which is modern American Judaism. I’m sure if there had also been a Renewal, Reconstructionist, Secular Humanist Jewish, or an ultra-Orthodox congregation in Albany at the time she would have encouraged me to check those out as well. My mother had clear political and religious orientations, and yet was very open minded about other people and their approaches.
I believe that there is a reason that my mother had such a spirit of acceptance, because Judaism, in general, promotes an acceptance of others. Part of the explanation is that despite our ancientness and tiny size as a people, we are only 1/250th of the world’s population; we have always been very diverse. In the beginning we were different tribes, with different roles: The Cohanim were the Temple’s priests, the Levites who were the Temple musicians and helpers, and the Israelites who were farmers and shepherds. After the Romans destroyed the Temple and exiled our ancestors from our homeland, we lived scattered all over the world, developed regional differences and sub-cultures, and yet all remained one family, one people. In the modern age, as we become further divided into modern movements, denominations, political groupings, and ethnic variations between Ashkenazim, Mizrachim, Sephardim, Israeli, American etc., we still maintain our identity as one unique people with one Torah, one language, Hebrew, one holy land that we face during prayer, and one calendar. Judaism has thousands of years of not just accepting diversity, but celebrating it.
Beyond the varieties within the Jewish people, religiously, politically, and ethnically, we also have developed an idea that there can even be multiple truths. As the rabbis wrestled with the meaning of the Torah, literally, spiritually, and midrashically, they realized that every word of Torah can be interpreted in at least 4 different ways. Some explained that it’s like light hitting a prism and refracting into 70 different colors and hues. The Talmud, a vast collection of Biblical interpretations, discussions, debates, disagreements, stories, legends, sayings and even humor has an incredible approach to diversity.
The Talmud goes to great lengths to record majority and minority opinions, just as the US Supreme Court does today. When the Talmud asks why the “wrong” answers of the minority are recorded, the Talmud answers that there may be a court at some point in the future that will want to rule according to the minority opinion. In other words, truth is not absolute; what is right may change over time.
The Talmud even explains that heaven is comfortable with the concept of two different answers both being correct. We see this most dramatically in the stories of Hillel of Shammai, two 2nd century sages who developed two different schools of thought and are famous for always contradicting each other. The Talmud in Tractate Eruvin, page 13b, explains: For three years, the House of Hillel and the House of Shammai argued. One said, 'The halakha, the Jewish way, is like us,' and the other said, 'the halakha is like us.' A heavenly voice spoke: "These and these are [both], the words of the living God...”
In other words, both Hillel and Shammai represented God’s ultimate truth, even though they had completely different opinions. The Heavenly voice then concluded: “...and the halakha follows the House of Hillel."
The Talmud then raises a question: Since the heavenly voice declared: "Both these and those are the words of the Living God," why was the Halacha established to follow the opinion of Hillel? The Talmud answers: It is because the students of Hillel were kind and gracious. They taught their own ideas as well as the ideas from the students of Shammai. Not only for this reason, but they went so far as to teach Shammai's opinions first.
So even though they quoted Shammai to explain how he was wrong, the opinions of Shammai were embedded within the teachings and explanations of Hillel. They both were right, the Talmud says, but Hillel’s opinions are regarding as the ones to follow due to their kindness and compassion.
My mother’s yahrtzeit, the 9th of Adar, is in fact a minor fast day according to the Code of Jewish Law to commemorate the disagreements between Hillel and Shammai. As the Mishnah, the oldest part of the Talmud explains “In the attic of Chananiah ben Chizkiya ben Gurion, when they went up to visit him, they counted and [found that] there were more of Beit Shammai than of Beit Hillel on that day, and they decreed 18 decrees.” (Mishnah Shabbat 1:4)
The later Babylonian Talmud describes what it was like on the day that the students of Hillel found themselves outnumbered by those of Shammai:
“They [Beit Shammai] thrust a sword into the study house and declared: “Whoever wants to enter may enter, but no one may leave!” And on that day Hillel sat in submission before Shammai, like one of the disciples, and it was as wretched for Israel as the day on which the [golden] calf was made.” (Shabbat 17a). The Jerusalem Talmud, which is considered less authoritative than the larger Babylonian version adds a horrible detail: “The students of Beit Shammai stood below them and they began to kill the students of Beit Hillel. It was taught: Six of them ascended and the others stood over them with swords and lances.” (Jerusalem Talmud, Shabbat 1:4). We are left to ponder if this is a poetic description or did these ancient disputes for the sake of heaven actually turn to violence and murder on this date. Amram Gaon, in his Siddur from the 9th century, the oldest Hebrew prayerbook that we have, explained: "On the ninth of [Adar] they decreed [a fast] because Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel argued with each other.
Rabbi Mordechai Yaffe, writing in Poland in the 16th Century adds: “On the ninth [of Adar], Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel disagreed with one another, and since a disagreement fell between the scholars of Israel, even though their disagreement was for the sake of heaven, nevertheless the Torah had become, God forbid, as if it was two Torahs, this one forbids and this one permits, this one declares a matter impure, and the other declares it pure, and no law is known completely. Behold this is like a tragic day and we fast on it.” So my mother’s yahrtzeit, the day of her passing, is evidently an ancient day for recalling what happens when we don’t show tolerance, compassion, and accept or celebrate diversity.
But that is not the end of the story. The Babylonian Talmud in Tractate Yevamot, page 14b, has this to add:
Although Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel are in disagreement on [their interpretations of almost all aspects of Jewish wedding requirements] (questions of rivals, sisters, an old bill of divorce, a doubtfully married woman, a woman whom her husband had divorced and who stayed with him over the night in an inn, money, valuables, a perutah and the value of a perutah), Beit Shammai did not, nevertheless, abstain from marrying women of the families of Beit Hillel, nor did Beit Hillel refrain from marrying those of Beit Shammai. This is to teach you that they showed love and friendship towards one another, putting into practice the text [from Zechariah 8:16]: “Love truth and peace.”
In other words, they hotly debated what constitutes a kosher Jewish wedding, but they still married each other; they remained one family, one people. Today, in an age of deep division in our country: political, religious, ethnic, where we even argue about what is true and factual, we should remember this concept: know when to put it all aside, and know what is more important: remaining a united nation, celebrating our common sense of humanity. As the prophet said: love truth and peace.
Shavuah tov!
Rabbi Shalom Bochner
I want to dedicate this Drash to the memory of my mother, Joan Sinai, Yehudit Miryam bat Yoel U’Bashya, on the occasion of her 6th Yahrzeit. My mother was a warm woman who loved her Judaism and loved teaching others about Judaism and the Hebrew language. She was famed for her hospitality, her love of the holidays, and her chocolate-filled and peanut butter and jelly hamantaschen, among many wonderful other traits. She raised me with a deep appreciation for diversity, within the Jewish community and beyond the Jewish community. I grew up in Albany, NY which has 6 Jewish congregations within the city limits: two are Orthodox, two are Conservative, and two are Reform. She made it clear that while she was a member of 2 of these synagogues, all of them were part of the community and she supported me in attending all of them and exploring the range of opinions which is modern American Judaism. I’m sure if there had also been a Renewal, Reconstructionist, Secular Humanist Jewish, or an ultra-Orthodox congregation in Albany at the time she would have encouraged me to check those out as well. My mother had clear political and religious orientations, and yet was very open minded about other people and their approaches.
I believe that there is a reason that my mother had such a spirit of acceptance, because Judaism, in general, promotes an acceptance of others. Part of the explanation is that despite our ancientness and tiny size as a people, we are only 1/250th of the world’s population; we have always been very diverse. In the beginning we were different tribes, with different roles: The Cohanim were the Temple’s priests, the Levites who were the Temple musicians and helpers, and the Israelites who were farmers and shepherds. After the Romans destroyed the Temple and exiled our ancestors from our homeland, we lived scattered all over the world, developed regional differences and sub-cultures, and yet all remained one family, one people. In the modern age, as we become further divided into modern movements, denominations, political groupings, and ethnic variations between Ashkenazim, Mizrachim, Sephardim, Israeli, American etc., we still maintain our identity as one unique people with one Torah, one language, Hebrew, one holy land that we face during prayer, and one calendar. Judaism has thousands of years of not just accepting diversity, but celebrating it.
Beyond the varieties within the Jewish people, religiously, politically, and ethnically, we also have developed an idea that there can even be multiple truths. As the rabbis wrestled with the meaning of the Torah, literally, spiritually, and midrashically, they realized that every word of Torah can be interpreted in at least 4 different ways. Some explained that it’s like light hitting a prism and refracting into 70 different colors and hues. The Talmud, a vast collection of Biblical interpretations, discussions, debates, disagreements, stories, legends, sayings and even humor has an incredible approach to diversity.
The Talmud goes to great lengths to record majority and minority opinions, just as the US Supreme Court does today. When the Talmud asks why the “wrong” answers of the minority are recorded, the Talmud answers that there may be a court at some point in the future that will want to rule according to the minority opinion. In other words, truth is not absolute; what is right may change over time.
The Talmud even explains that heaven is comfortable with the concept of two different answers both being correct. We see this most dramatically in the stories of Hillel of Shammai, two 2nd century sages who developed two different schools of thought and are famous for always contradicting each other. The Talmud in Tractate Eruvin, page 13b, explains: For three years, the House of Hillel and the House of Shammai argued. One said, 'The halakha, the Jewish way, is like us,' and the other said, 'the halakha is like us.' A heavenly voice spoke: "These and these are [both], the words of the living God...”
In other words, both Hillel and Shammai represented God’s ultimate truth, even though they had completely different opinions. The Heavenly voice then concluded: “...and the halakha follows the House of Hillel."
The Talmud then raises a question: Since the heavenly voice declared: "Both these and those are the words of the Living God," why was the Halacha established to follow the opinion of Hillel? The Talmud answers: It is because the students of Hillel were kind and gracious. They taught their own ideas as well as the ideas from the students of Shammai. Not only for this reason, but they went so far as to teach Shammai's opinions first.
So even though they quoted Shammai to explain how he was wrong, the opinions of Shammai were embedded within the teachings and explanations of Hillel. They both were right, the Talmud says, but Hillel’s opinions are regarding as the ones to follow due to their kindness and compassion.
My mother’s yahrtzeit, the 9th of Adar, is in fact a minor fast day according to the Code of Jewish Law to commemorate the disagreements between Hillel and Shammai. As the Mishnah, the oldest part of the Talmud explains “In the attic of Chananiah ben Chizkiya ben Gurion, when they went up to visit him, they counted and [found that] there were more of Beit Shammai than of Beit Hillel on that day, and they decreed 18 decrees.” (Mishnah Shabbat 1:4)
The later Babylonian Talmud describes what it was like on the day that the students of Hillel found themselves outnumbered by those of Shammai:
“They [Beit Shammai] thrust a sword into the study house and declared: “Whoever wants to enter may enter, but no one may leave!” And on that day Hillel sat in submission before Shammai, like one of the disciples, and it was as wretched for Israel as the day on which the [golden] calf was made.” (Shabbat 17a). The Jerusalem Talmud, which is considered less authoritative than the larger Babylonian version adds a horrible detail: “The students of Beit Shammai stood below them and they began to kill the students of Beit Hillel. It was taught: Six of them ascended and the others stood over them with swords and lances.” (Jerusalem Talmud, Shabbat 1:4). We are left to ponder if this is a poetic description or did these ancient disputes for the sake of heaven actually turn to violence and murder on this date. Amram Gaon, in his Siddur from the 9th century, the oldest Hebrew prayerbook that we have, explained: "On the ninth of [Adar] they decreed [a fast] because Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel argued with each other.
Rabbi Mordechai Yaffe, writing in Poland in the 16th Century adds: “On the ninth [of Adar], Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel disagreed with one another, and since a disagreement fell between the scholars of Israel, even though their disagreement was for the sake of heaven, nevertheless the Torah had become, God forbid, as if it was two Torahs, this one forbids and this one permits, this one declares a matter impure, and the other declares it pure, and no law is known completely. Behold this is like a tragic day and we fast on it.” So my mother’s yahrtzeit, the day of her passing, is evidently an ancient day for recalling what happens when we don’t show tolerance, compassion, and accept or celebrate diversity.
But that is not the end of the story. The Babylonian Talmud in Tractate Yevamot, page 14b, has this to add:
Although Beit Shammai and Beit Hillel are in disagreement on [their interpretations of almost all aspects of Jewish wedding requirements] (questions of rivals, sisters, an old bill of divorce, a doubtfully married woman, a woman whom her husband had divorced and who stayed with him over the night in an inn, money, valuables, a perutah and the value of a perutah), Beit Shammai did not, nevertheless, abstain from marrying women of the families of Beit Hillel, nor did Beit Hillel refrain from marrying those of Beit Shammai. This is to teach you that they showed love and friendship towards one another, putting into practice the text [from Zechariah 8:16]: “Love truth and peace.”
In other words, they hotly debated what constitutes a kosher Jewish wedding, but they still married each other; they remained one family, one people. Today, in an age of deep division in our country: political, religious, ethnic, where we even argue about what is true and factual, we should remember this concept: know when to put it all aside, and know what is more important: remaining a united nation, celebrating our common sense of humanity. As the prophet said: love truth and peace.
Shavuah tov!
Rabbi Shalom Bochner