Sometimes Chazal make drashot on a word that you just find totally implausible. Like on daf 10b of Ketuboth they say that the term Almana- Widow- is based on the word Maneh- the amount of money an widow receives in her Ketubah if she remarries (as opposed to the double portion – maataim- that the virgin receives).

Are they for real or is it just a cute mnemonic device that happens to linguistically work out?

Thankfully the gemarah expresses the same consternation. When the word Alamana appears in the  Torah, it wasn’t known that the Rabbis would later institute this kind of Ketubah, with this specific amount. To me this is another way of saying that creative linguistics shouldn’t work backwards; you can’t assume origin from the current usage or the current value assigned. Other voices in the gemarah quiet the question by citing additional locations where the language employed by the Tanach seems to reflect a reality much later than its period of composition.

Now I’m getting into Biblical Criticism and that’s not a place I feel comfortable going….. Just want to say that while the Rabbis play with language, and imbue words with multiple meanings from multiple periods of history- granting the word  a timeless power- I also think they are winking at us, aware of the elegant word games they are playing.

The week of Yom Haatzmaut, as I prepare a shiur on whether one should say Hallel to celebrate the founding of the State, the police are blowing up a Chefetz Chashud outside my window.

First I hear a cop speaking into an intercom telling people not to cross the police line, but that could just be the end of a Hachnasat sefer torah or a street fair, which are frequent in the neighborhood.  But then I hear the sound of the police robot shooting into a chefetz chashud, blowing up a suspicious object that might be a bomb. They are unmistakable loud tight targeted shots.

I am forced to think about Rav Ovadiah’s claim that the miracle of the founding of the state is incomplete; that we can’t say Hallel on a country that still isn’t safe and secure, to the extent that there are suspicions of bombs on a quiet residential street. I think of his claim that we can’t say Hallel over a war that was so bloody and the limbo state in which we are still suffering casualties.

But then I see, in the lamplight, the silhouette of the policeman in his bulky ephod, proud as a Cohen Gadol, saunter down the street. He takes off his helmet and tells the people on the sidewalk they are free to walk down the street. There is something in his swagger, in his pride to sound the all clear to the neighborhood children, that reassures me. With all its dangers and shortcomings, this is our country and we take care of each other here, and that is reason enough for me to say Hallel.

To day is Yom Hashoah, Holocaust remembrance day. The siren sounded at 10:00 am for a moment of silence where people even stop in the highway to stand at attention. It is such an Israeli way to commemorate. It is the sound of war, a call to war to defensive stance, to miluim, to bomb shelters. It is not a sad sound, it is a fearful sound. Like at the seder where we are asked to relive the feeling of leaving Egypt, you too should feel like you lived through the holocaust and survived, you too should feel what it means to be in war to panic to think fast to make creative solutions to save yourself and to fight back.

I thought this article was a nice clear overview of Rabbi Dr. Sperber's work and ideas, and a convincing review of modern/liberal/ "friendly" psak (law decisions) that are still based on texts and tradition.

The part of the Seder that is most vivid for me – being obsessed with Talmud- is the scene of a few “founding fathers” holding a Pesach Seder at Rabbi Akivah’s house in Bnei Brak. Their conversation about leaving Egypt was so engaging that they nearly missed the time for morning Shema, loosing all track of time. This story proves statements made in the haggada: “even the wise have a responsibility to talk about the Exodus, the more the better” and “we all must feel as if we ourselves were leaving Egypt,” for the telling of the past was more real than the actual sunrise and the present responsibility to pray.

Interestingly, there is another story about a seder of Rabbis who are so immersed that they too almost miss Shema; this Seder is lead by Rabban Gamliel. The Tosefta records an interesting detail: these Rabbis were not discussing the national story of our leaving Egypt, as Akivah was, but rather were talking about the laws of performing the Korban Pesach- the Sacrifice of Passover.

I wonder at the philosophical debate that is being waged by these two texts - story vs. law, a divide that also seems to appear in the questions and answers offered by and to the four sons. The wise son asks about the laws and is answered with the minutia of halakhic information, while all the other sons receive answers that focus on the story of leaving Egypt and its importance.

I want to suggest that Rabban Gamliel’s choice to focus on the sacrifice reappears later in the haggada as well. Towards the end of Maggid, we read: Rabban Gamliel says anyone who does not say the following three things did not fulfill their responsibility: Pesach, Matza and Maror. The Hagadda goes on to explicate these three elements in relation to the Exodus story: Pesach is the sacrifice that the Jews gave on the night before they left, Matzah is the bread they made in a rush as they left Egypt, and Marror represents the harsh labor of their enslavement.

But knowing that at Rabban Gamliel’s seder they discussed the laws of the korban and not the story of Exodus, I would suggest that this part of the haggada is a gloss. (In fact Rabban Gamliel’s original short quote appears in the Mishna without the explication.) The original meaning of his exhortation is a desire to bring to our seder night the elements of the sacrifice, which we are no longer able to perform. After all the elements of Matzah and Marror were part of God’s original command for how to eat the Korban Pesach even before the Jews leave Egypt, before historical fate forces them to make Matazh, and before they are free from the servitude, which the Marror will eventually represent.

Raban Gamliel is placing the emphasis on the Korban, and only the later gloss sides with “Rabbi Akiva’s seder,” turning the Korban into representative elements that connect back to the story of leaving Egypt. In our own time, we are so distant from the culture of sacrifices that we can’t understand why these two positions – focus on the Korban and focus on the Exodus – should stand opposed to each other. Surely the Korban is only relevant in so far as it represents and teaches us about the Exodus! But the existence of these two parallel Seders, told in the same literary form, suggests to me that they are either opposed or complimentary but not identical.

One binary that we may draw is that Rabbi Akivah tells a national story while Rabban Gamliel tells a religious story. Some suggest that Rabbi Akivah was discussing the Bar Kochba revolt with his fellow Rabbis who had all just returned from a trip to Rome to lobby on behalf of the Jews. The National story of Exodus- rather than the details of law- inspired their own rebellion for independence from the political slavery of Roman rule. However, I worry that presenting their opinions as a strict binary insinuates that while Akivah ran a current and relevant Pesach seder, Rabban Gamliel was detached from the present reality of the Jews, and chose to be busy with the irrelevant details of a sacrifice that was never to return.

But as we examined Rabbi Akivah’s historical moment, we also must understand Rabban Gamiliel’s. Rabban Gamliel is one of the founders of the project of Yavneh, which is at its heart a religious rabbinic pursuit. Its founding is literarily tied with Yochanan Ben Zakkai’s leaving of Jerusalem, the choice to pursue religious sovereignty and national survival over physical political sovereignty. However, religious pursuit is not by necessity detached from reality. Rabban Gamliel may be interested in the sacrifice first and foremost because the temple is destroyed in his lifetime and the pain and loss of the korban is too fresh to imagine a full seder where the sacrifice plays a purely representational role.

At the beginning of his reign as Nasi of the Sanhedrin there probably was no formal Seder, because when the korban was offered in the Mikdash the bringing and eating the sacrifice itself was all that was needed to fulfill the commandment to feel as if you were leaving Egypt. In the most tangible way possible, by eating the Korban Pesach with Matzah and Marror, a Jew could actually act out the moment of Exodus, and relive the sense of declaring National Unity (separation from the Egyptians) with their sacrifice. When the temple stood, the seder was improvisational theatre, whereas only afterward it became storytelling. It would have been insensitive not to mourn the passing of the korban at this point in the Jewish trajectory.

More importantly enactment of the korban encapsulates within it several important values; therefore Rabban Gamliel’s choice to talk of the details of the sacrifice was not a hollow act of halakhic nitty gritty. Korban Pesach is the one sacrifice that all Jews do at the same time, yet individually. On Yom Kippur and other holidays the koahim sacrifice one korban in the name of the entire nation, while individual sacrifices were brought when one sinned or had something specific to be thankful for. Korban Pesach is the one sacrifice that all of Israel individually part of a national ritual.

Because of the simultaneous individual and national nature of the korban, there are other special laws. Jews are allowed into the sanctuary to offer this korban in concert with the kohaim. He is even allowed to do the shchita. On the other hand, the meat of the may be eaten in all of Jerusalem, not only in the walls of the sanctuary as with ordinary sacrifices. The ordinary Jew is allowed into the Mikdash, and the kodesh is allowed out side of the Mikdash.

Lastly korban pesach models the creation of smaller communities within the national whole, in which every individual counts. Several families would join together in order to ensure that the sacrifice would sufficiently feed those who gathered to eat it and meat would not be left over or wasted. Men and women need to be counted ahead of time to a given group, so that every individual is included in the korban at the time of the sacrifice. This magnificent law again highlights the importance of the individual in the community within the nation. Each person is included in a smaller community, counted in that community, while circles upon circles are huddled into the walls of Jerusalem all taking part in the Korban.

If these were the laws of Korban Pesach that Rabban Gamliel wanted to discuss, it seems to me that he too wants to talk about nationality and community, the importance of the individual to the whole, and the ability to import the holiness of the temple into the walls of Jerusalem and beyond, into the actions of each individual.

The korban may have been the most appropriate vehicle to discuss the issues of community building in the wake of the destruction, the task of his generation. While for Rabbi Akivah the need to throw off the yoke of political slavery was better served by returning to the story of leaving Egypt without intermediary of the Korban.

I think that both of these stories are embedded in our seder, though the further we get from the time sacrifices the less relevant it seemed to the framers of the seder and to us us. However the value of joining the individual and community in partnership to extend the umbrella of holiness and memory is still relevant and perhaps should be reemphasized in our seder as well.

As modern Jews we tend to privilege aggada- story telling and narratives, which teach values- over law, which we often assume is meaningless in its details. But in truth the two work together, and just as we act to emphasize the values of our religion, we must work to unveil the importance of halakha rather that dismiss it as misguided and empty.

Here are two Pesach tracks that Doogree Rec (my brother) has produced. This first is Ori's dub version of Vehi Sheamda. And the YouTube video is of Mat Bar's take on the ten plagues, it's part of his Bible Raps project. Enjoy!

I was reading the beginning of Shmot where we first learn about the Jews’ slavery and Moshe’s birth. It is interesting to ask ourselves: why does the story start here? Why are the details of Moshe’s birth significant to the story of the Jewish people’s redemption from Israel?

I think the specific vignettes are very telling; let me share arc of the story with you. We start with the midwives who disobey Pharaoh, making excuses as to why they did not kill the Jewish babies as they are born. Then we are told of Moshe’s parents’ decision to marry, and his mother’s hiding of Moshe for three months, after which Miriam guards over him as he floats down the Nile. Lastly, Pharaoh’s daughter finds Moshe and saves him.

We can read this as simple narrative describing how Moshe is born but I think each vignette is carefully chosen. Each character (all women) – the midwives, Moshe’s mother, Miriam, and the daughter of Pharaoh- each make a decision which goes against the grain or is downright risky in the name of morality or saving a life. Starting with the midwives who outright disobey Pharaoh’s command to the daughter of Pharaoh who knowingly raises a Jewish boy, destined for death, right under her father’s nose.

This trajectory all comes into focus when the next story in the text tells of Moshe’s first moral and risky decision. Moshe steps out of the palace of Pharaoh, identifies with his “brothers,” and kills an Egyptian who has been beating a Jewish slave. The next day when he witnesses two Jews fighting, he also tries to get involved (though perhaps verbally and without violence). Moshe has clearly taken a risk in acting on behalf of the Jewish slave, because he flees when he realizes that Pharaoh knows about his activism.  

Why tell this of all stories about Moshe’s youth? He flees and is clearly not ready for the yoke of leadership for which God will pick him out. But these initial gut reactions- the attempt to protect the slave from the overseer and the desire to stop two Jews from fighting- are the necessary first steps to moral leadership. He could have remained safe in the palace but he takes a risk both moral and brotherly for his people.

The acts of brave women lead directly to Moshe’s moral urge. Without the many risks of the enablers in his life- the midwives, his mother, sister and adopted mother- he would not be afforded the chance to be a leader. Neither would he had the chance to live, nor would he have the perspective of a prince stepping out of the palace with the prerogative to take a risk on moral grounds to save his people. The redemption from Israel as a whole can be seen as starting with the many small acts of resistance, which together were able to produce a leader who could leave the Jews out of slavery.

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Here is an insight on Yom Agunah from Rena Sherbill:

This past Thursday, March 20, was Yom Agunah (Agunah Day).  On Wednesday, March 19, in recognition of this day, there was a protest march from the Beit Din (Jewish Court) in Jerusalem to the Knesset. Agunah, literally a "chained" woman, is a term applied to women whose husbands refuse to give them a get (bill of divorce).   
For almost three years, this term has applied to me.  After countless meetings at the Beit Din, and between our two lawyers, the process of divorce is still dragging on, despite the fact that we have lived apart all this time and that each of us has dated other people.  This situation, that men are granted the power to withhold a divorce, without a doubt mocks the entire halachic system as antiquated and misogynistic. 
The way the Beit Din tells it, however, is that women and women's organizations are simply misleading the public with false statistics.  In fact Arutz Sheva has run two articles on this topic, both times only quoting one source – the Beit Din itself.  The article states, "In 2007, an Israeli survey revealed that there are only 180 cases of refusing-get husbands including 69 documented agunah cases. In contrast, there are 190 cases in which the wife refuses to give the husband a divorce."  To hear them tell it, not only are men being refused divorces, but there are even more of them than women (this source is also quoted in the "agunah" entry on Wikipedia).  How can this be?  Are the myriad women's organizations who have taken up the cause of agunot misinformed?  Or worse, are they padding the facts to get their point across? 
Contrastingly, how can a so-called news organization write an article on an inflammatory and controversial topic like agunot while only quoting one side (that of the Beit Din)? 
To put these matters in perspective, I would like to take note of what Dr. Ruth Halperin-Kaddari said this past July at the Kolech (Religious Women's Forum) conference in Jerusalem.  Dr. Halperin-Kaddari, director of the Center for the Advancement of Women's Status in the Faculty of Law at Bar-Ilan University, presented statistics that compared how the religious courts (Batei Din) calculate the number of agunot versus the way the women's organizations do.  For instance, the Batei Din do not include in their category of men witholders, any couple who is engaged in "[disagreement over] mezonot (child support)," meaning where the woman is asking for child support and the man refuses to give it. The women's organizations' statistics take into account that many of these mezonot cases are actually cases of men who are offering a get only if the woman will give up her right to child support.  The Batei Din allow this blackmail to go on, and cover up this fact by using a misleading title for the category that makes it sound as if the two sides are equal. 
From my experience in this process, I can attest to the fact that this practice runs rampant.  My ex-husband used the get as a bargaining chip in a multitude of ways.  Just two examples are when he said he wouldn't give me a get unless the amount of child support was lowered (even though the Court mandated the lowest legal amount of child support), or unless I gave up my right to appeal to the Civil Court in matters of visitation and child support.     
Another disparity in statistic collection between these two bodies is a result of the Beit Din leaving out any case where there have been no court hearings for six months or more.  By their very nature, most of these agunah cases drag on indefinitely, which makes this omission a glaring one. 
Another article, this time coming from a Haredi website called the Shema Yisrael Torah network, also makes its case.  Here is a quote, "The distorted claims of National-Religious (modern-orthodox) women's groups that have joined Reform circles to wage a joint campaign against the Rabbinical batei din and the dayanim who act in accordance with halacha, on account of the alleged "thousands of agunot" and "ongoing foot dragging in resolving their plight" have been exposed as grossly exaggerated and misleading and in fact, altogether groundless."  Misleading?  Let's see, first the author attempts to shame these Modern Orthodox women by putting them in the same category as (gasp!) Reform circles, thereby juxtaposing them with the dayanim (judges) who they say are acting in accordance with halacha. 
Liberal readers might immediately write off this source because it comes from a Haredi perspective, but it is the Haredim who are in charge of the Batei Din, and thereby able to dictate the status of these women.  Because there is no civil divorce in Israel (a divorce can only be granted by the Batei Din), it is imperative for those fighting for change to educate people (especially Halachic, Religious Jews) on the gross inequality of the Jewish court system, as it pertains to agunot.  As many in the Religious world see it, the Rabbis are acting according to the letter of the law.  And, in fact, they are.  Just as people claim that they murder or steal in G-d's name, and are able to select Biblical quotes in their defense.  What is missing here, and what these people are failing to see, is the complete disregard for the spirit of the law.  In this day and age, is it still "lawful" to keep women chained to a marriage they want out of? 
Furthermore, it is not only the judges or the Haredi system who are to blame.  It is everyone who upholds this system.  For instance, I know of two fairly progressive Rabbis who once worked on my behalf trying to convince my ex-husband to give me a get.  But in the end, they stopped being a part of things in fear that their names would be blemished in the "Torah World" because of their involvement in my case.  There are also many people who think it is lashon hara (slander) to tell people when a man is withholding a get, when in fact it is deemed necessary to do so by Jewish Law. Many people, even ones who know that the system is outdated, fear going up against the religious establishment because they feel that no matter what, the Rabbis should be the ones to make change, not the people, and certainly not the women.  I was even at a Shabbat meal, where on the topic of agunot, one very learned woman said, "I know it's a terrible thing, but the Rabbis aren't heartless, they have wives and daughters, they must have good reason for not changing the laws."   
This woman, who I otherwise respect, has it all wrong.  In this time between Purim and Pesach, where we are bookended by Esther and Miriam – two strong, independent women who took it upon themselves to literally change the course of Jewish History, it is especially salient for us to realize our role and abilities to create our own fate. It is not cynicism that leads me to say this, or even feminism, but rather, and quite simply, humanism -- the Rabbis are not changing the laws because it is a patriarchal institution, and it does not behoove them to take the power out of men's hands. Despite my experience, I do however, consider myself very lucky.  Because of the strong support of my family and friends, and because I have been blessed with strength and independence, I was able to have my own divorce ritual.  Obviously, I still would not be able to get married again according to halacha, but I consider myself divorced, and anyway because of what I have borne witness to, I would not get married under the auspices of the Rabbinate again.  However, there are at least hundreds of women who live in strictly Religious communities, usually with a number of young children, and typically the victims of some sort of abuse, who must endure years of being chained to their marriage.  In fact, I remember reading two summers ago, how a mother of four in Mea Shearim committed suicide by jumping off her balcony. The stated reason for her suicide was her inability to cope with the strain of being an agunah.    It is in our power to ensure that no woman anywhere feels that kind of hopeless desperation again. 

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Wednesday was Yom Ha'agunah - a day set to raise awareness about and push to solve the problem of agunot. There was a protest in Jerusalem and some press here in Israel. Sara Breger wrote in Haaretz that the Prenuptial is the only solution we have right now; while this was the official message of the ICAR rally, some of the voices I heard while marching to the Knesset were far more disheartened with the entire institution of marriage as it exits today- the reigns of power to consummate and dissolve marriage being  solely in the man's hands. Other's still pray that husbands and Rabbis will find their moral core, while the Toanot Beit Din, women who act as lawyers in the religious courts, fight day in and day out to solve each individual case that comes their way. How long will we need to have a Yom Haagunah, there is something to stable about commemorating a whole day to an issue we hope will not be here next year.

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An article I wrote about Esther's suit to make the Megillah part of the canon was posted on Matan's webcite in honor of the month of Adar. I wrote about the underlying moral responsibility that comes along with our communal memory of Purim.