July 4th, 2020

In recent years, I’ve felt increasingly dissonant about Independence Day. I still hold to idealistic beliefs about the principles this country was founded on, and the patriotic songs and symbols still have power to stir me, even as my realizations of the ways in which this country falls short of its ideals deepen each year. This year especially has brought new understanding of the way that racism carved channels in our history that still affect our present. It has been a year of national reflection and reckoning, perhaps because we have all been quarantined with more time to reflect, leading to an extraordinary pulling down of monuments and symbols once considered venerable, and the consideration of ideas formerly inconceivable. As I put up the flag tomorrow, how can I help but think about the reference to slaves in the less-than-admirable third verse of The Star Spangled Banner or the odious racism of its author, but also of the redeeming fifth verse added during the Civil War. It is fitting that the anthem should be considered amendable like our Constitution, a work in progress like our country itself. Our founders recognized their principles as aspirational when they sought to form a “more perfect union”. And as our country was nearly torn apart, Lincoln, standing among the fresh graves of Gettysburg, called upon us “to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced,” and that this nation “shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.” Seven score and seventeen years later, we still have much unfinished work. It can be discouraging to assess how far we yet fall short of our stated ideals. But it’s worth looking back to see how far we’ve come, and it’s worth looking around to see where we are relative to the rest of the world. As I put the flag up tomorrow, I’ll be thinking of Frederick Douglass’s 1852 speech “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?” and of all the recent protests. But I’ll also be thinking about living in a country where we can have such protests, and where monuments can sometimes be toppled, even as citizens of Hong Kong are losing their freedoms before our eyes, as Uyghurs suffer cultural genocide in China, and as much of the world suffers under dictatorships, oligarchies, and theocracies. It may be tattered, but the banner yet waves.

Dia de los Muertos, East LA

I spent much of today in a cemetery in Boyle Heights (an East LA neighborhood with a traditionally Mexican-American population) seeing how people there were marking Dia de los Muertos. While it was a large cemetery, the bright orange marigolds specific to the Mexican tradition, used in abundance, made it easy to spot the graves that had been decorated for the occasion. The bright orange flowers, both whole and strewn petals, were arranged to illuminate a path for the souls to make their way back to earth for one night. It is presumed that the souls would be thirsty from their journey, so bottles of water, or perhaps the deceased’s favorite beverage (beer, tequila) would be left on the grave. Candy was common as well, and at one grave, I even saw fries and chicken strips awaiting one returning soul. I saw a number of people in the graveyard visiting loved ones and decorating their graves. The mood is somehow both reflective and festive. I saw whole families with children, some setting up umbrellas and making a picnic of it, some blaring Nortense music from their car. There was an elderly couple visiting some graves, the man in a wheelchair and his wife reading inscriptions to him. (I helped them back to their car when I saw she was having trouble maneuvering his wheelchair through the uneven grass.) As I always do in graveyards, I get lost in reading the inscriptions on the stones, finding little pieces of stories. In this cemetery, many had died way too young, and some had married and parented quite young too. Others lived good long lives and were mourned by generations. I like the attitude of this holiday. It reminds us all that we are a thread in a larger tapestry, a thread with a beginning and an end, but which finds a larger meaning woven together with the threads that came before us, and that have touched us, and that we will touch.

In my Dia de los Muertos tour, I also made a couple of other stops. Self Help Graphics & Art is a community art center in Boyle Heights, and in October, it’s an ofrenda factory. You can find it easily by the murals covering the building on East 1st St. While most of their handiwork is now on display in Grand Park, there were a few community-themed ofrendas still here. One was an altar to those who had died suffering the stigma of mental illness. Another was an altar to children who had died trying to cross the border, with a “sea” of messages of encouragement written by local school children on construction paper fish. Yet another was a tribute to passed heroes, where people left photos and notes to those who had inspired them, some famous figures and some very personal. My other stop was La Monarca Bakery, a Boyle Heights tradition, where I sampled pan de muertos, a mildly sweet bun with hints of orange zest, with crossed bones on top. They had piled boxes of these, which many people will bring to the graveyard tonight and tomorrow, or just to other Dia de los Muertos celebrations. And they also had an ofrenda, remembering those passed in the La Monarca family. (And of course this altar had pan de muerto on it!)

(See full album of pictures from my Dia de los Muertos tour.)

July 4th, 2019

On the eve of our nation’s 243rd birthday, I think about what America represents to the world, as a nation uniquely founded on a set of Enlightenment ideas governed by a Constitution, not embedded in tribalism and traditional authority. It has been a shared commitment to those ideals that has bound us together through our relatively brief history. We have no common ethnicity nor national religion, so it is only those ideals and the struggle to live up to them that binds us together as an American people. Our founders understood that they themselves fell short of fully living up to the ideals they proclaimed, but had faith that the shared commitment to those ideals would call upon the better natures of its citizens to make the union “more perfect”. We began as a nation of slaveholders and slavery-enablers, dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal, and went forward from there. We enshrined freedom of speech and of the press in our First Amendment, then one of our first administrations outlawed published criticism of the government, and even as recently as WWI our Supreme Court would endorse criminalization of expressions of anti-war opinion. We prohibited racial discrimination in the hard-won Fourteenth Amendment, but then discriminated by race as we interned Japanese-Americans during WWII. We put up the Statue of Liberty “lifting her lamp beside the golden door”, but then slammed that door shut on Chinese immigrants, and then on southern and eastern Europeans, and then we turned away boatloads of Jewish refugees fleeing Hitler. We seem to be a nation who proclaims ideals but then takes a good while to catch up in actual practice. That “shining city on a hill” we like to tout is not where we live yet, but it’s a glossy brochure of what we hope to build. We do seem to make slow progress when enough eyes focus on the shared vision. So when I look around today and despair how far short we still fall from our ideals, how far we are from the summit of that shining city, it is useful perspective to turn around and see where we started, and how far we have come. May the ideals that have sustained us so far continue to call us onward and upward. Happy birthday, America!

Caesura Youth Orchestra

Part of the Jewish tradition in the days between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur is to focus on "tzedakah" (charity). In that spirit, as I'm writing checks, I'd also like to give a shout-out to some special organizations over the next few days. Here's the first: We are proud to support the Caesura Youth Orchestra since its founding just over a year ago. You may have heard how LA's superstar conductor Gustavo Dudamel came from a program in Venezuela that brought music education to children in impoverished circumstances. Caesura was created to bring the same model to our local community in Glendale. Music education in the context of an orchestra not only teaches children music, but it gives them the self-confidence that comes from mastery through practice and putting in the time and work, and the value of community and cooperation that comes from being a part of something larger. This kind of program is invaluable especially in the parts of our local community that have less financial and social capital than others. The Orchestra has had a good first year, just finished a Summer Music Camp, and they are starting their second school year. When you're thinking about charitable donations, we hope you'll join us in supporting the Caesura Youth Orchestra.

Hawaii Is Not Fairfax

I work on a project with a number of folks from Hawaii, including my office mate. We both like having a variety of calendars up on the walls, mostly for the rotating artwork, and there are usually a few Hawaiian calendars in the mix. I've always been amused that the Hawaiian calendars are well-intentioned enough to remember the Jewish holidays in their annotations, but not diligent enough to put them on the right days. Today I glanced up and noticed that one of the Hawaiian calendars shows Rosh Hashanah beginning on Monday, Sept 29, but then it shows Yom Kippur on the very next day. Oy! Are we to compress ten days of repentance into 24 hours? I checked a different Hawaiian calendar, and that one showed Yom Kippur on Oct 6, which is closer, but still two days off. I wonder if maybe they don't realize that the Jewish holidays fall on different days each year in the western calendar, and perhaps they've just been copying the same dates from year to year. If there are any Jewish people in Hawaii, perhaps they just take a laid back attitude about exactly when they celebrate. If you're harvesting pineapple year round, I suppose the timing of Succoth (a harvest festival) would seem rather arbitrary. Some of the Hawaiian calendars have tide tables on them, so you know when the surf is up. I haven't checked, but I'd bet that's accurate. If there are any Jewish surfers in Hawaii, they'd definitely want to know when the surf is up.

Maccabees Of This Year

As I have been lighting the Hanukkah candles this year, thinking about the Maccabees fighting to defend their faith and freedom, and about the miracle of the oil, which to me is a symbol for enduring spirit in the face of opposition and oppression, I cannot help but think about the Buddhist monks in Burma, and the other Burmese people who have risen up with them in protest of the Myanmar regime. (And I'll agree with President Bush to call that nation Burma, and not Myanmar, in pointed disrecognition of the illegitimate junta.) It has been amazing this year to see those brave people march in protest, get suppressed, beaten, and disappeared, only to have more rise up and protest some more. As we remember G-d who made miracles for our fathers in their years in this season, let us also think of those who are the Maccabees in this year, and pray for them to be rewarded with justice.

Tisha b'Av

Today was the Jewish fast day of Tisha b'Av. In Jewish history, Tisha b'Av (which is just a date -- the 9th day of Av) is like a September 11, only magnified by having several huge catastrophes all happen on the same day throughout history. On Tisha b'Av, 586 BCE, the Babylonians sacked Jerusalem and destroyed the Temple. On Tisha b'Av, 70 CE, the Romans destroyed the second Temple. In 135 CE, when the last outpost of Jewish rebels were vanquished by the Romans, that was on Tisha b'Av. Jews expelled from Spain? Tisha b'Av. So you can see why it is a very solemn day of commemoration. You can also see why Jews might be a little apprehensive about the day. If Hezbollah terrorists were going to land a huge rocket barrage in Tel Aviv, today would have been the day.

While I'm sure there have been quieter Tisha b'Avs, I was relieved that nothing hugely climactic happened today to pile on to the tragic tradition. Not that each of the 8 Israeli civilian deaths, the 4 Lebanese civilian deaths, or the several military deaths weren't tragedies. Sadly, those numbers do not distinguish today from yesterday or from tomorrow. Today was a day for contemplating what has been lost and cannot be recovered. It is also a day for contemplating the remarkable human ability, in the wake of devastation, to pick up and keep on going.

From Passover, For Shavuos

Today was the Jewish holiday of Shavuos (pronounced sha-VOO-us or shah-voo-OAT, depending on where your grandparents came from), one of the three big festivals commanded in the Torah. This festival commemorates the giving of the Torah to the Jews, after they had escaped Egyptian bondage and wandered in the desert for a while. Curiously, while the Torah specifies the month and day for all other feasts and fasts, Shavuos is only identified as being the 50th day after the Passover holiday. Observant Jews will actually perform a ritual counting of the fifty days from Passover to Shavuos, giving the festival a sense of anticipation. In a way, Shavuos is a fulfillment of Passover. Passover celebrates the exodus from Egypt and freedom from slavery. It looks back on where we were, what we came from, and how we got delivered from there. But having escaped from Egypt and become free, what were we free to do and what were we for? It wasn't until we received the Torah that we learned how to live with our freedom, and what to live for. That's what Shavuos is about. So while Passover is about "from", Shavuos is about "for". Notice that it's not about "to", the land, the destination. In fact, surprisingly, I don't know that there is a Jewish holiday that marks the arrival of the Jewish people to the land of Israel after the exodus. The Shavuos festival celebrates the giving of the Law to the people of Israel, which happened before we crossed the river and entered the land of Israel. For it is the Law and not the land that makes the nation of Israel. Customarily, it is always said that Shavuos is about the giving of the Torah to us, not the receiving of the Torah by us. The rabbis say that while it was given to us on that particular day, we are continually in the process of receiving it.

Shakespeare on Hanukkah

My analogy the other day of enduring spirit as Hanukkah lights called to mind this beautiful quote from the opening scene in Shakespeare's Measure for Measure:

Heaven doth with us as we with torches do,
Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues
Did not go forth of us, ’twere all alike
As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch’d
But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends
The smallest scruple of her excellence,
But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines
Herself the glory of a creditor,
Both thanks and use.

Hanukkah: The Miracle of Spirit

Even more powerful than the "political" Hanukkah story of the Maccabees defending their faith and freedom, there is the spiritual Hanukkah story of the miracle of the oil. When the Jews rededicated the Temple, they lit the menorah which is supposed to burn continuously, even though they only had enough consecrated oil to last one day and it would take a week to prepare more. Miraculously, the small supply of oil burned a full eight days. Thus today, when we light the Hanukkah candles, we say a blessing to G-d "who performed miracles for our ancestors in days of old in this season". That a small amount of oil lasted much longer than it should have was a miracle. It was also a symbol for the spirit of the Maccabees, who lasted through battle after battle, against vastly greater numbers, when no one rationally would have expected it: the miracle of the victory of a faithful few against a mighty tyrant.

As I light the candles, I think not only of those particular miracles of enduring spirit and light, but I think of all of the miraculous spirits who have lit and who continue to light our world. How many stories have we heard of people who faced personal hardships, natural disasters, debilitating illness, or tyrannical oppression, and who amazingly endured, tapping some hidden strength, an inner well of miraculous oil, to carry them on long past when reason would have expected them to be exhausted and quit. The man who loses his home, his family, and everything he's built in a hurricane, but returns after the storm waters subside to the arduous work of clearing out the muck and starting to rebuild. The woman who was gang-raped by men of her own village for a crime committed by her brother, and who faced down the ire of her family, her village, and her people to challenge a vicious and unjust tradition. People like these, and many others whom we may never hear about, these are all "Hanukkah lights".

"Baruch atah Adonai eloheynu melech ha'olam she'asah nisim l'avotaynu b'yamim haheim b'zman hazeh v'asah nisim l'anu b'yamim hazeh ub'col hazmanim."

Let us bless G-d not just for the miracles done for our ancestors in days of old in this season, but for the miracles done for us in these days and in all seasons.

Happy Hanukkah, America

It occurred to me the other day to wonder why more Americans don't celebrate Hanukkah. (Well, aside from the understandable goyische difficulty of not knowing how to spell or pronounce it.) Too many Americans know too little about this holiday, thinking it's just an eight-night-long Christmas with funky candelabras instead of trees. The tradition of the holiday should have a particularly American appeal. Hanukkah is actually a celebration of religious freedom, and a small band of patriot rebels defeating a tyrannical imperial power against long odds. Sound familiar? It's really a lot closer to the 4th of July than to Christmas.

Forget whatever you thought about eight nights of gift-giving, and flash back 2170 years ago. The Jews in Israel were living under the yoke of an increasingly tyrannical emperor in Syria named Antiochus. Antiochus was a political descendant of Alexander the Great, who had conquered most of the known world a century earlier. But after Alexander's death, his vast empire became subdivided into several regional empires, and the rulers after him slowly forgot that allowing conquered peoples to keep their own customs and traditions was a key ingredient for keeping the peace. Antiochus started issuing decrees requiring all of his subjects to worship his pagan gods and to abandon their own religions. The Jews were specifically required to go against their religion by eating pork, not circumsizing their children, and paying homage to Hellenistic gods like Zeus. Copies of the Torah were burned, and people following the Jewish Laws were killed. Antiochus ordered the sacred Temple in Jerusalem to be profaned by slaughtering pigs there and setting up an altar to Zeus.

In the midst of this situation, there arose a George Washington figure by the name of Judas Maccabeus, who along with his father Mattathias, and his brothers (known as the Maccabees), organized a guerilla resistance to defend the Jewish people and their faith. The Maccabees were greatly outnumbered and out-weaponed by the army of Antiochus (just like the American Revolutionary patriots against the British), but fought with the fierce conviction of knowing they had God and justice on their side:

But when they saw the army coming to meet them, they said to Judas: How shall we, being few, be able to fight against so great a multitude and so strong, and we are ready to faint with fasting today?
And Judas said: It is an easy matter for many to be shut up in the hands of a few: and there is no difference in the sight of the God of heaven to deliver with a great multitude, or with a small company:
For the success of war is not in the multitude of the army, but strength cometh from heaven. They come against us with an insolent multitude, and with pride, to destroy us, and our wives, and our children, and to take our spoils.
But we will fight for our lives and our laws:
And the Lord himself will overthrow them before our face: but as for you, fear them not.
1 Maccabees 3:17-22

The Maccabees routed several armies that Antiochus sent, and eventually won the war and established Jewish religious freedom for the next hundred years. The defining moment of the Maccabee triumph was when they were able to purify and rededicate the Temple, on the 25th day of the month of Kislev, exactly two years to the day after the altar had been defiled. It was proclaimed that an eight-day celebration should be held on that date every year, and that is the origin of Hanukkah (a Hebrew word meaning "dedication").

It seems to me that while this holiday is traditionally a Jewish one, it celebrates themes of defending religious freedom that ought to resonate with all Americans. For Americans who are Christian, they may note that Jesus celebrated Hanukkah (see John 10:22-23), and those who are Catholic or Orthodox will find the books of Maccabees included in their Bibles. But shouldn't any American of any faith understand the appeal of remembering rebels defending their right to worship according to their conscience?

Succoth

This evening begins the fourth day of the weeklong harvest festival of Succoth (pronounced "sue-COAT" or "sook-US", depending on where your grandparents are from). If I were an observant Jew, I'd be sleeping in my backyard this week in a temporary hut called a "succah" (often translated as "booth"). This is to remind us of the 40 years of wandering in the wilderness between being delivered from Egypt and brought to the Promised Land. Although I'm not sleeping in the backyard, the symbolism is appealing. Part of it is to keep us in touch with more humble times in our collective (and personal) past, when we didn't enjoy all the comforts we may take for granted most of the time. Another part is to celebrate that G-d has always been with us. Even when we were wandering in the desert and sleeping in "booths", we carried around a "tabernacle" so that G-d could dwell among us. And it's also a festival of the fall harvest. Part of the Succoth tradition is to decorate the succah with palm fronds, wheat stalks, and harvesty items like gourds. As with most of these traditions, there are all sorts of detailed rules about the construction of the succah, for example, it must be covered with something natural (like thatch) but not completely covered so that you should be able to see stars through the roof. (Of course, if George and I were sleeping in the backyard in a succah, George would have his new bb-gun rifle with him in case that skunk shows up who's been digging up our lawn. But that's another story...)

The harvest festival aspect of Succoth bears some similarity to our American holiday of Thanksgiving, and that similarity may go even deeper than it first appears. Some have speculated that the first Thanksgiving celebrated by the Pilgrims in the Massachusetts colony was actually Succoth. There are some historical reasons to support this idea. For one thing, the timing was right: the original Thanksgiving was probably around this time of year (it was only moved into November much later on here in the US; in Canada it is still celebrated now). For another, the Pilgrims were very Bible-oriented, and would not celebrate any holidays that were not in the Bible. For instance, they were firm Sabbath-keepers, but they did not celebrate Christmas or Easter. (One of the reasons they were persecuted in England was for not celebrating the Catholic holidays.) They certainly would have been aware of the Biblical commandment to celebrate a feast on the 15th day of the seventh month (which in the Hebrew calendar corresponds approximately to our September/October).

So, happy Thanksgiving to you, and take a moment to appreciate the comforts of our homes, which (hopefully) don't have holes in the roof to see the stars through.

JewishGen

Tonight, on the Sabbath of the high holy days, it seems appropriate that the "charity of the day" should be JewishGen. While the lion's share of our charitable giving goes toward "solving the world's problems", I think it's also important to give some amount to cultural organizations. My own interest in genealogy has significantly deepened in recent years, and in that process I've made use of a variety of services and resources, and joined a variety of historical and genealogical societies. Of the many resources and organizations I've encountered, one of the most impressive is JewishGen, which is indisputably the premier online resource for Jewish genealogy. Among their services:

• several dozen mailing lists serving 25,000 subscribers posting tens of thousands of items each year
• an information-rich website of over 20,000 pages handling millions of hits per month
• the Jewishgen Family Finder, with hundreds of thousands of entries, helping people connect with distant cousins and other researchers with common interests
• the ShtetLinks project, hosting hundreds of websites each devoted to a specific ancestral village
• numerous specialized databases containing millions of records

And that's not nearly the whole megillah.

JewishGen's stated mission is to "gather, document, and preserve our research, and make it available to the Jewish community worldwide as a public service". In this I think they succeed admirably. But I think that beyond that, they foster a community and perpetuate a culture. Since subscribing to JewishGen over a year ago, I have learned so much, not only about the specifics of my own family tree, but about Jewish culture and history in general, from misty geographies of centuries past (featuring countries like Galicia, Bessarabia, and Bukovina) to the struggles of our grandparents as they migrated from place to place (through stories and photos shared by their grandchildren). I have become more aware of the Jewish calendar of holidays, and improved through practice my Hebrew "decoding" skills. In addition to a modest financial contribution each year, I have also been able to contribute both research and website development by writing an article on the genealogical value of a 19th-century book-publishing business model called "pre-subscription lists", and by adopting a "shtetl" (ancestral village) in present-day Ukraine called Makhnovka that may or may not be connected to my great-grandfather's still-obscure origins.

Unlike most genealogical and historical societies, which operate on annual membership dues, JewishGen offers all of its services without charge and operates entirely on donations. It's difficult to apply the usual financial assessments to an organization like this. An examination of IRS filings shows that JewishGen spends 47% of their budget on program expenses, with 51% going to management, and under 2% to fundraising. For a typical charitable organization, these would be pretty poor proportions, but in looking at the details of this case, it seems reasonable. Consider that the total budget is only a few hundred thousand (as compared to, say, the $100+ million budget of ADRA), so it's not unreasonable to expect that a quarter of that goes to the salaries of the 5 full-time employees, and another quarter goes to maintaining an office (including telephone and travel). The "hard" expenses of the program budget are mostly Internet access and computer server maintenance (which at the volume they're serving these days requires some real money). What's missed entirely in a superficial look at these numbers is that the office and handful of paid staffers are coordinating and enabling the efforts of over a thousand volunteers, and all of the time, research, information development, and intellectual property that is contributed. Were all of these "intangibles" somehow valued and included on the revenue and expense statement, the proportions would look quite different. Thus, I'm quite content with the organizational efficiency of this group. Likewise, an impressive track record demonstrating their organizational capacity can be seen in the growth in all dimensions of service provided.

If you have any Jewish roots, you really ought to check out this invaluable web resource. And if it helps you find a distant cousin, or locate or learn more about your great-grandmother's village in the "old country", or deepen your knowledge and appreciation of our cultural history, please consider making a donation to support them.

A New Start?

This evening begins the Jewish holiday of Rosh HaShanah, the Jewish New Year. The next ten days, culminating in Yom Kippur, are a time for repentance, prayer, and charity. Tradition holds that G-d opens the "book of life" during these days, inscribing who will live or die next year, who will have a good or bad year, according to their sins. Genuine shows of repentance during this time may inspire G-d to reconsider our fate before the book is finally sealed on Yom Kippur. This year the Muslim holy month of Ramadan nearly coincides with the Jewish month of Tishri, with the month of fasting beginning Wednesday (the second day of Rosh Hashanah). Ramadan is said to be the time that the Quran was sent down from Heaven. The whole month is a time of fasting and prayer, and on the 27th of the month, Laylat-al-Qadr commemorates the revelation of the Quran to Muhammad. Laylat-al-Qadr is similar to Yom Kippur in that it is believed that Allah determines the fate of the world for the next year on that night.

I was encouraged to hear that Ariel Sharon and Mahmoud Abbas have announced intentions to meet and expressed determination to restart the Israeli-Palestinean peace process. It is a fitting time of year for two ancient peoples who share a common origin to express a new resolution to overcome generations of enmity. Obviously, there are those who do not want to have peace. (Two sad examples: the renegade Israeli soldier who started shooting Palestineans, and the Hamas operatives who were responsible for setting off explosives at their own rally in order to create an excuse to restart the violence.) And when peace finally comes, it will be the result of not only much blood and sweat, but more importantly faith and a willingness to recognize one's own faults and forgive those of others. With this coincidence of Tishri and Ramadan, may the repentence, prayer, and charity of us all inspire G-d to inscribe and seal the seeds of peace in the book of life this coming year.

Tisha b'Av

Today is one of the lessser known Jewish holidays, called Tisha b'Av, which is simply the date, the 9th of the month of "Av". This is the saddest day on the Jewish calendar, and the holiday is marked by fasting and mourning in commemoration of great tragedies that have befallen the Jewish people, many coincidentally occurring on the same day. (Actually, for particularly observant Jews, there is a 3 week period of mourning, culminating on the 9th of Av.) It's sort of like September 11 or December 7 for Americans, or October Black Monday for stock investors, but as if the Twin Towers, Pearl Harbor, the stock market crash, and several other and bigger tragedies had all occurred on the same date. That's Tisha b'Av.

If you've ever read the Old Testament history of the Jewish people, you'll recall that it's a long account of G-d smiting the enemies of the Jews, alternating with G-d allowing the enemies to smite the Jews when they grow complacent, hypocritical, and forget about G-d. When the Jews were first given the land of Israel, they built a great Temple according to G-d's instructions. In 586 BCE, when the Babylonians conquered Israel and dragged the Jews off into a long captivity, the 9th of Av was the day that the Temple was destroyed. Eventually, when the Persians sacked the Babylonians, the Jews were allowed to return to Israel, and the Temple was rebuilt. Much later, in 70 CE, when the Jews attempted to rebel against Roman occupation, the Romans destroyed the second Temple. This also happened on the 9th of Av. (The famous "wailing wall" in Jerusalem is a remnant of the destroyed Temple.) In 135 CE, again on the 9th of Av, the Romans vanquished the last outpost of Jewish rebels, and Jews were scattered around the world. One of the better places for Jews to end up, at least for many centuries, was Spain, which under Moorish influence had a relatively tolerant coexistence of Christians, Muslims, and Jews. But eventually there arose the Spanish Inquisition, and by royal edict all Jews (and Muslims) were expelled from Spain, with the last Jew to be off of Spanish soil by a certain date in 1492. Yup, 9th of Av once again. (As Tevye may have said, only the Chosen People get to be so blessed.)

This year, Tisha b'Av will be fraught with extra significance because as soon as the holiday ends, the Israeli government is scheduled to begin the controversial evacuation of the Gaza (and a few West Bank) settlements. While this move is apparently supported by the majority of Israeli citizens, as well as majority of US Jews, it is a highly divisive and emotional issue, and those who oppose it do so vehemently. It is inherent that the settlers who inhabited these outpost settlements were courageous, determined, and motivated by either a political patriotic form of Zionism or a religiously-motivated Zionism. For the political Zionists, I hope that just as they moved to the settlements in the first place for the good of the state of Israel, they can now voluntarily pull up their stakes and move, also for the good of the state of Israel. And in fact, some of them have, although political opinions differ as to whether the pull-out is indeed in the best interests of the state. For the religious Zionists, there seems no room for compromise. They are there because the Torah tells them that G-d gave all of the land of Israel to the Jews. As some have said, if we pack up and quit Gush Katif (one of the orthodox Gaza settlements), why not pack up and quit Jerusalem, Haifa, and the rest of Israel as well? Alas, it's hard to imagine how to reconcile that kind of attitude with any practical path toward peace or even security for Israel (short of counting on G-d to smite all of Israel's enemies, which doesn't appear to be His present intention). Thus, for some the Gaza evacuations will be seen as yet another catastrophe to fall on Tisha b'Av, while for others it will be accepted as part of Israel's trying to make its way forward given the realities of the world.

Cheers for Esther

Tonight begins the Jewish feast of Purim, one of the most joyous of holidays, commemorating an ancient deliverance of the Jewish people from near extermination. The story is found in the Book of Esther, and it tells of civil disobedience, religious persecution, and courageous action. The 30-second summary: Esther is the king's favorite wife, but he does not know that she is a Jew. The king is deceived by an arrogant advisor to decree the extermination of all Jews in his empire, because "they keep their own laws and do not obey the king." (The arrogant advisor was just annoyed that a Jew refused to bow down to him when ordered.) Esther, at risk to her own life, pleads with the king to save her people, in the process revealing that she is Jewish. The king realizes the right thing to do, revokes the decree, and exterminates the arrogant advisor instead.

The most important thing to do today is to read the Book of Esther. "The whole megillah" (the whole scroll), as they say. It's not too long, and ideally it should be read out loud with everyone raucously cheering Mordecai (the guy who wouldn't bow down) and booing, stomping and hissing for Haman (the arrogant advisor). It's also a commandment that there should be eating, drinking, and making merry. In fact, it is traditional to get drunk enough that you can no longer tell the good guy from the bad guy. (So watch out for drunken orthodox Jews stumbling the streets tonight.) It is also traditional to bring little gifts of food to your neighbors or to the poor.

Some trivia about the Book of Esther: there is the original Hebrew version, but there is also a somewhat later Greek version that has a bunch of extra verses added. (Sort of the like when you buy the DVD and you get some extra scenes that weren't in the original screen version.) The Catholics accept the extra verses as inspired, and include them in their Bibles, but some Protestant translations (and of course the Jewish versions) stick to the original Hebrew. If you stick to the Hebrew and don't accept the extra verses, then Esther is the only book in the Bible that contains no mention of G-d. (Some rabbis say this is to teach that G-d sometimes works behind the scenes.)

Whether you're Jewish or not, whether you believe in G-d or not, the story of Esther is a great story of standing firm for what you believe, being true to who you are, and having the courage of your convictions. So raise a glass for Esther today!

Recommended Reading for Martin Luther King Day

Tomorrow is Martin Luther King Day, which, sadly, is the least celebrated official federal holiday. Cynically, I might attribute that to many white Americans thinking "oh, that's a black holiday, it's not our holiday". Optimistically, I could attribute it to just being too close after Christmas and New Years for another holiday. But MLK was a great man and an inspirational example for all Americans. And this day is a day for all of us. King would not have it any other way. Here are some recommendations for recognizing the holiday with some appropriate reading:

1. Read his speeches. Even better, look and listen. King was a brilliant orator.
2. Read the prophet Amos. This is the source of one of King's famous passages "let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream" (Amos 5:24, cited in King's "I See the Promised Land" speech). It's a short book tucked away at the back of the Old Testament, but filled with the great language of a prophet railing against the injustice of a people who abuse their obligations to the poor and defenseless, while going through the motions of religious piety.
3. Read Shelby Steele's A Dream Deferred: The Second Betrayal of Black Freedom in America. This book is imperative reading for anyone wrestling with the issue of the justice of racial preferences. While Steele believes that racial preferences defy the best democratic principles of our country, this book reaches more profoundly than that argument. Steele offers a powerful analysis of why racial politics remain so compelling, even as their practical effect is to work against their purported goal of freedom and equality. He ultimately broadens his analysis to find that the success of racial identity politics has inspired the spread of a whole market in redemption for any group that can claim to be aggrieved. This enlightening diagnosis rings all too true. (My full review is about the 4th one down on Amazon, or can be found here.)