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October 27, 2016

The Protest Theology exchange, part 1: Judaism’s long tradition of confronting God

” target=”_blank”>Pious Irreverence: Confronting God in Rabbinic Judaism.

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Dear Professor Weiss,

Your book explores what you refer to as “confrontation” or “Jewish protest theology” – the age-old history of Judaism's arguments and confrontations with God.

For my first introductory question, I'd like to begin with the basics: How do you define confrontation, what would you like your readers to learn about the phenomenon, and why have there been no systematic studies of the history of this theme in Judaism?

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Dear Shmuel,

Despite its centrality in contemporary liberal Judaism, no academic book has comprehensively analyzed the ancient roots of the Jewish tradition of protesting God. While two Jewish theologians, Anson Laytner and David Blumenthal, have composed important and influential constructive works on the arguing-with-God expression, and other scholars have treated the motif as it emerged in Hasidic thought and the post-Holocaust theology of Elie Wiesel, little has been done to trace the origins of this distinctive feature of Judaism. In fact, Ephraim Urbach, Arthur Marmorstein, and Max Kadushin, the leading scholars of ancient Jewish theology of the past generation, ignore altogether the theme of protest. Consequently, the tradition of arguing with God is often assumed in contemporary literature without understanding and appreciating its roots and history in the most canonical of Jewish works: Midrash and Talmud. (70 CE -800 CE).

My recent book, Pious Irreverence, examines how the rabbis of late antiquity produce moral critiques of God. The rabbis, however, do not challenge God directly, but indirectly by placing critiques of God into the mouths of various biblical heroes when they retell the biblical story. Through this literary method, the rabbis can express their own struggles, ambivalences, and discomforts with the biblical God who, at times, acts capriciously, arbitrarily, and without due mercy. Although from a scholarly perspective the critiques are designated as “rabbinic” creations, the rabbis, of course, do not admit this. This act of protest ventriloquism provides a literary safe space or shelter for the rabbis to generate their own critiques of God with impunity as they present themselves not as originators of the confrontation but only as their transmitters. The sages thereby remove themselves from the picture, placing sole responsibility for the challenge onto a biblical character. This act of ventriloquism does not solve the moral problem, but it does provide a cathartic outlet for the sages to work through their own theological and moral anxieties with a problematic scriptural God.

Building on the prior works of Laytner and Blumenthal, Pious Irreverence analyzes the Jewish protest expression from a variety of perspectives, including the comparative, conceptual, historical, and theological.

Adopting a comparative lens, the book traces and explains — for the first time in modern scholarship — the emergence of anti-protest traditions in both rabbinic Judaism and early Christianity. I argue that rabbinic and early Christian anti-protestors adopted different ways to explain how heroic biblical protestors such as Abraham, Moses, Jeremiah and Job launched their critiques of God with seeming impunity.

From a conceptual perspective, the book uncovers the midrashic rationales behind both the rabbinic anti-protest tradition and the pro-protest position. It asks, why should protesting God be deemed a sinful act, or how can it be logically defended?

Third, using a historical lens, the book isolates the emergence of pro-protest Jewish traditions in the third century, and offers explanations as to why a similar pro-protest position never surfaces in early Christianity. The book also demonstrates how the six and seventh-century rabbinic Midrashim called “Tanhuma-Yelammedenu” radicalize earlier pro-protest traditions, and then offers historical, cultural, and literary reasons to account for this intensification.

Fourth and most controversially, Pious Irreverence highlights the theological implications of these late rabbinic texts. I argue that many of these rabbinic protests — particularly in Tanhuma-Yelammedenu literature–rely on the theological premise that God is not morally perfect and, thus, God’s goodness does not necessarily need to be defended in the face of biblical accounts of unethical divine action.

The bold notion that God is fallible and not morally-perfect — and therefore protesting God might be legitimate — surfaces in amoraic literature (fifth century CE), and appears most starkly in post-amoraic rabbinic literature (sixth-seventh century CE). In these latter texts, we read of biblical heroes teaching or counseling God to adopt a more ethical approach to governing the world. Strikingly, God accedes to these moral critiques, declaring that the contentious encounter has caused Him to adopt a new moral position. In these midrashim, God’s apparent capitulation is transformative and substantial, expressing an essential change in God’s moral compass. They reflect an ongoing and fundamental change in God’s attitude toward His governance of the world, rather than a one-time concessional act of divine mercy as we have in the Hebrew Bible or earlier rabbinic texts.

The scholarly neglect of the protest material in the rabbinic period is due in part to the unsystematic and fragmentary nature of its earliest expressions in the foundational texts of Judaism—the works of Midrash and Talmud—which were produced by rabbis in Hebrew and Aramaic more than fifteen hundred years ago. More importantly, this lacuna should also be attributed to the field’s biases. While there are an abundance of scholarly works treating non-theological rabbinic sub-fields– such as history, law, literature and biblical interpretation — rabbinic theology has been a neglected area. In fact, the last scholarly original English book on the rabbinic conception of God appeared in 1988 (Jacob Neusner’s Incarnation of God). This reality, of course, begs the question: why have scholars of the Talmud and Midrash shied away from investigating theological matters? Part of the answer relates to an old problem – the “embarrassing” depictions of God found in these sacred texts. The divine in the rabbinic documents is not presented as a transcendent, omnipotent or omniscient being, but a complicated, embodied, and fallible deity who evinces greater continuities with the capricious gods of Greco-Roman mythology than the incorporeal, unchanging Christian God of Augustine, Maimonides or Aquinas.

Rather than defend these odd and “embarrassing” anthropomorphic depictions of God as genuine expressions of the rabbinic imagination, the standard traditional Jewish response — from Moses Maimonides and on — was to neutralize the problem by adopting various strategies of containment. These apologetic maneuvers included de-canonizing or devaluing the non-legal sections of the Talmud and Midrash; seeing these strange divine images as mere “poetic conceits” for the uneducated masses; or embarking on various forms of allegorical reinterpretation that expose the deeper “spiritual kernel” of the rabbinic depiction.

In the 1990s and 2000s, however, revisionist scholars such as Michael Fishbane and Moshe Idel sought to break Maimonides’ philosophical hold on rabbinic theology. They stressed the discontinuities between early rabbinic and later philosophical thought. The unapologetic works of Fishbane and Idel have ignited a renewed interest in the rabbinic God. “Scandalous” anthropomorphic texts – including much of the rabbinic protest material — that had been ignored and downplayed are now being read on their own terms. Building on Fishbane and Idel’s recent revisionism, Pious Irreverence reads rabbinic reflections concerning God with a literalist hermeneutic and with utmost seriousness.

The Protest Theology exchange, part 1: Judaism’s long tradition of confronting God Read More »

Brothers

After God created the heavens and the earth, tragedy struck in a catastrophe that has never been forgotten, a tragedy now ingrained in our DNA and  repeated in every generation.

The tale of Cain and Abel is a story of envy, despair, and evil that has stained the human condition (Genesis 4:1-15).

As dramatic as this story is, in only fifteen verses does the episode unfold and resolve. The narrative gives only bare details of Cain’s and Abel’s lives and their fates. Abel (Havel) was a keeper of sheep. His Hebrew name means “vapor,” reflecting his short and purposeless life.

Cain was a farmer and tiller of the soil, the same ground that he polluted when he murdered his brother and his brother's blood soaked the earth.

We learn that the brothers each had brought to God offerings. Cain was first – Abel followed. God rejected Cain’s gift and received Abel’s joyfully. Cain felt humiliated and shunned by the God he yearned to serve.

Why did God reject Cain’s gift? We don’t know. God, however, seemed surprised by Cain’s strong reaction and asked: “Why are you so upset? Why has your face fallen? Is it not thus: If you intend good, bear-it-aloft, but if you do not intend good, at the entrance is sin, a crouching-demon, toward you his lust–but you can rule over him.” (vs 6-7) [An enigmatic ancient poetic passage – see below]

A shame! Instead of sympathy God gave Cain a lecture. Yet, we can’t really blame Cain for his distress. He felt rejected and utterly alone. Even Cain’s parents were missing from the scene, so he struck out against the one closest to him – the only one there – his brother Abel.

Cain and Abel had spoken or argued, but we’re not told about what. The rabbis offer several explanations.

One said that the brothers had agreed to divide the world. Cain took all the land and Abel took everything that moved: but then they fought out of greed for more.

Cain said: “The land upon which you stand is mine. Get off – you may fly if you like, for I don’t own the air. But the land is mine and not for your use.”

Abel shot back: “The clothes you wear are made from the wool of my flock. Strip down. Walk naked. You’ve no right to the product of my sheep.”

A second sage said that each brother owned both land and movable property and that they fought about on whose land the Temple in Jerusalem would be built.

“The Temple should be built on my land,” said one.

“No. It must be built on mine,” said the other.

Their battle thus became a religious war each claiming that God was on his side.

A third rabbi said that Abel had a twin sister, a magnificently beautiful and alluring woman, and since there was no other woman on earth, each wanted her.

Cain argued: “I must have her because I am the first born.”

Abel too felt entitled: “She’s mine because she was born with me. Together we must stay.”

The rabbis regard Cain and Abel as symbols. Each explanation is an argument for what drives people to hate and kill each other; materialism, religious fanaticism, and sexual obsession.

“Cain rose up against Abel and slew him.” (v 8)

The Midrash claimed that Abel was the physically stronger man, and as he was about to kill Cain, Cain pleaded for his life: “We are the only two in the world. What will you tell our parents if you kill me?”

From fear or perhaps pity, Abel lowered his weapon, and at that moment Cain murdered him.

After the deed (as if God didn’t know), the Almighty asked: “Where is Abel your brother?”

Cain was cold and disengaged: “I know not; am I my brother’s keeper?” (v 9)

God expected moral accountability, but as he had turned on his brother, so too did Cain turn on God:

“You hold watch over all creatures, and yet You demand an accounting of me! True, I killed him, but You created the evil inclination within me. It’s Your fault! Why did You permit me to slay him? You slew him yourself, for had You looked favorably on my offering, I wouldn’t have had reason to envy and kill him.”

God emphasized to Cain the heinous significance of his murderous act, but Cain didn’t understand.

God said: “The voice of your brother’s blood(s) cry to Me from the ground.” (v 10)

The Hebrew for blood (dam) is written in the plural (damim) meaning that killing one human being is equivalent to the murder of every generation to come, of an entire world, genocide. And given that Cain killed his brother, murder is also fratricide.

As tragic as this tale is, the ending is abruptly positive. Adam and Eve chose life again and bore their third son, Seth, in the place of Abel. We are considered Seth’s descendants (v 25) and neither carry the legacy of victim or aggressor. That is for each of us to decide.


Note: The above is a creative compilation of the Biblical text and rabbinic commentary. The translation of the poem – vs 6-7 – is borrowed from Everett Fox's translation of The Five Books of Moses – The Schocken Bible: Volume I.

Brothers Read More »

Is Cleveland Indians pitcher Andrew Miller Jewish?

Cleveland Indians fans have many players to thank for the team’s deep run through the MLB playoffs, but one stands out among the rest: reliever Andrew Miller.

Miller, 31, has been a godsend for the Tribe since the team acquired him from the New York Yankees at the end of July trade deadline. The late inning setup man allowed only 5 earned runs over the final two months of the season and has not allowed a run in the playoffs as of Wednesday. He was named the Most Valuable Player of the American League Championship Series against the Toronto Blue Jays — the first ever pitcher to do so having not started a game or entered a game in the ninth inning (as a closer normally would).

Many fans are probably asking themselves the same question: is the lefty hurler Jewish? After all, Miller is one of the most common Jewish surnames (Jewish genealogy site Avotaynu claims it is the third most common Jewish last name, behind only Cohen and Levy).

However, there is no evidence that this Miller, born to parents David and Kim Miller in Gainesville, Florida, is Jewish. The name is obviously popular among gentiles as well — the 2010 census found that it was the 6th most popular last name overall in the entire country.

Still, he’s a member of a different Tribe on the field — and Cleveland fans are probably satisfied with that.

Is Cleveland Indians pitcher Andrew Miller Jewish? Read More »

Everyone, all together now, sing!

Forget about “The Voice.” Call these “The Voices” — 150 to 200 of them coming together every month to belt out classic Israeli tunes during a rousing singalong.

The lyrics are projected on a big screen, but no one really needs them. Everyone knows the words to the oldies by heart — they grew up listening to and singing those songs. 

This group of Israelis, most of whom immigrated to the United States years ago, is keeping a tradition alive. It’s called shira betzibur, or, in English, public singing.

“We miss Israel and miss the songs,” said Shaul Barkan, 67, a senior vice president of a high-tech company in Northridge. “We enjoy seeing how much fun people are having during these evenings. It’s a great joy.”

Barkan and his wife, Nitzan, 65, started the singing club 23 years ago.

Everyone, all together now, sing! Read More »

Digital hate: After the election, will this be our new normal?

It was February, right after the South Carolina Republican primary, and Donald Trump had been declared the winner. Bethany Mandel, a writer who usually focuses on politics and culture from a conservative perspective, was upset that Trump seemed to be emerging as a legitimate candidate. 

Observing that many Twitter users who proclaimed their love for Trump were just as generous with their anti-Semitic rhetoric and invective, she tweeted: “Another night blocking all the anti-Semites who are helping Trump make American [sic] great again.” 

Mandel, an outspoken anti-Trump Republican, had been a Twitter target before, so she expected some Twitter hate. But she wasn’t prepared for what was to come.

“The floodgates opened,” she said in an interview with the Jewish Journal. 

That first night she blocked an estimated 350 to 400 accounts that had begun sending her anti-Semitic and threatening messages, along with what she described as “a lot of Holocaust imagery.” There were images of her Photoshopped into photographs of Holocaust victims or concentration camp scenes, and cartoons depicting Jews being shoved into ovens. 

“It was impossible to keep up with; it seemed like a coordinated attack, not an organic thing,” she said, speculating that the perpetrator of the deluge was “a Russian bot farm, doing this to interfere with the electoral process. 

The ADL report

Last week, the Anti-Defamation League’s (ADL) Task Force on Harassment and Journalism released “Anti-Semitic Targeting of Journalists During the 2016 Presidential Campaign,” a report that set out to document these attacks. Mandel makes the list as one of the “top ten most targeted.” 

The ADL report noted 2.6 million tweets containing language frequently found in anti-Semitic speech from August 2015 to July 2016, with a significant uptick starting in January as presidential campaign coverage kicked into high gear. At least 800 journalists received anti-Semitic tweets with an estimated reach of 45 million impressions. 

The report also noted that all of the top 10 most targeted journalists are Jewish. They received 83 percent of “overtly anti-Semitic tweets” “which may contribute to reinforcing and normalizing anti-Semitic language on a massive scale.” Offenders are even creating new words — such as using “skypes” instead of “kikes” — in order to evade spam and hate-speech filters. 

The ADL plans to publish a follow-up report outlining recommendations for how to respond to anti-Semitism online during its Nov. 17 event, “Never Is Now: The ADL Summit on Anti-Semitism,” in New York City.

Among the highest profile examples, journalist Julia Ioffe was targeted after writing a profile of Melania Trump for GQ Magazine in May. She was met with anti-Semitic responses from people musing that her face would look good on a lampshade; at a conference in June, she also said that people had ordered caskets and homicide cleanups to her apartment. (Mandel and Ioffe are advisers on the ADL task force that published the report.)

New York Times editor Jonathan Weisman tweeted about casino magnate Sheldon Adelson’s support for Trump, and about the anti-Semitic response to Ioffe’s article, which made Weisman a target as well. In a piece called “The Nazi Tweets of ‘Trump God Emperor,’ ” Weisman reported that the only image he blocked and forwarded to Twitter was “a photo of my disembodied head held aloft, long Orthodox hair locks called payot Photoshopped on my sideburns and a skullcap placed as a crown. I let stand the image of a smiling Mr. Trump in Nazi uniform flicking the switch on a gas chamber containing my Photoshopped face.” 

Weisman subsequently disengaged from Twitter altogether, defecting instead to Facebook, “where at least people need to use their real names and can’t hide behind fakery to spread their hate.” 

Trump: Not the cause, but a connection

While the ADL report “identifies some self-styled followers” of Trump to be the source of these anti-Semitic Twitter attacks against reporters, it also states that “we cannot and do not attribute causation to Mr. Trump, and thus we cannot and do not assign blame to Mr. Trump for these ugly tweets … while we cannot (and do not) say that the candidate caused the targeting of reporters, we can say that he may have created an atmosphere in which such targeting arose.”

But other observers are more blunt in assigning blame to Trump and the forces his campaign has unleashed. Over the past few months, there have been incidents that paint a picture of the atmosphere in question. 

“Once Donald Trump entered the scene, something changed. … Suddenly a lot of people who were normally in shadowed corners of the internet felt emboldened,” said Jason Weixelbaum, a historian and a doctoral student at American University in Washington, D.C., who has also been the target of Twitter hatred for his work — his dissertation focuses on American businesses in Nazi Germany. 

More backlash — and questionable intentions

In June, Wilshire Boulevard Temple’s Rabbi Susan Goldberg participated in “Stop Trump: Vigil Against Violence and Hate.” She tweeted a photo of herself and several other Jews bearing signs reading “Jews Against Trump” and used the hashtag #weveseenthisbefore, which has been in use over the past few months to rouse Jews to action against Trump’s campaign. 

The response to the tweet was immediate and vitriolic from white supremacists, Goldberg said. One said that “Jews have always been antagonizing the ethnic interests of white people,” while another gleefully tweeted that “Jewish rejections of Trump are his biggest endorsements.”

In early July, the Trump campaign re-tweeted an image of Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton with the words “Most Corrupt Candidate Ever” shown in front of a pile of money and accompanied by a red, six-pointed star. Was the image a reference to Jews and money, a well-traveled anti-Semitic trope, or was the star — as the Trump campaign alleged — benign, meant to evoke a sheriff’s badge? Was it just a careless social media share, an absence of due diligence by the social media team, or a willful oversight meant to appeal to the white nationalists who had identified Trump as their great hope to make America white again? 

The campaign eventually converted the star into a circle, but didn’t apologize or admit it made a mistake in sourcing the original image. Nor did it condemn the type of content or commit to increased vigilance about sourcing material so it wouldn’t happen again. 

Those who responded negatively to this image and the campaign’s lack of responsibility for circulating it were met with a barrage of anti-Semitic images and comments that invoked the Holocaust. In the case of 25-year-old Laura Silverman, one message read, “I would like you to take a nap in an oven”; another featured a pile of ashes with the caption “Straight Outta Auschwitz.” 

Just last week, media mogul Russell Simmons explained in a video for Fortune why Trump, his friend for 30 years, is not fit to be president: “I’ve heard anti-Semitic things, not blatant, but pretty clear that he was harboring some, we all harbor some hate, right? And the fear is that his statements would take people who would never even admit to having those seeds of hate in them and one of those seeds, in those people, would say things they’d never even imagine saying, and that became the norm.” 

How far does it go?

The hate, while disturbing and graphic and suddenly visible to many who might not have believed that such sentiments could even exist, may actually be louder than it is widespread. 

So said Ben Shapiro — a conservative columnist who is on record as being anti-Trump and who landed at No. 1 on the list of targeted reporters released by the ADL — on his internet television program “The Ben Shapiro Show” last week. He pointed out that the report links Trump support to what he characterized as “a small but loud amount of supporters who tweet gas chamber memes at people,” but that the “vast majority of Trump supporters find this sort of stuff absolutely reprehensible” and  “to overestimate the percentage of the population would be wrong and foolish.”

Mandel said that the most remarkable and valuable part of the ADL report was the finding that about 1,600 accounts are responsible for 68 percent of the hate. 

“It’s much sexier to say there’s an explosion of hate,” she said, “but that doesn’t seem to be the case. This is 1,600 very loud accounts that had an amplified voice this election season.” 

After the election

With the presidential election less than two weeks away, the question those on the receiving end of this rise of hate are asking is whether it will vanish or wane come Nov. 8, or if hate — and its amplification via social media — is here to stay, regardless of who wins the presidency. 

“The seeds have been present for some time,” said Steven Windmueller, professor emeritus at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, where he taught courses on contemporary political issues and American Jewish affairs at the Los Angeles campus. 

“Election season itself, the campaign with both parties, has created a kind of ugliness and negativity where some of these voices have come to play and are more visible.”

Windmueller cited earlier attacks on Marco Rubio for “being too close to the Jews” or Bernie Sanders being seen as a spokesperson for “Jewish interests.” He also said that many factors contributed to the increase in hate speech: the rise of the alt-right, the development of the Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement against Israel, and the fact that Jews are “suddenly being seen as the establishment — high-profile journalists and even as candidates.” 

The new normal?

Mandel predicts — and hopes — that after this campaign season, “the intelligence community takes a serious look at the varied and scary ways that Russia tried to interfere with electoral process this year.” 

While the media have been blaming Trump for the hate tweets, she believes that “this is more Russia than it is him. He might be asking [Vladimir] Putin to do this. The actions of the Russians that we know about [WikiLeaks and Democratic National Committee hacks] are certainly changing the way this election is playing out.”

One of the major shifts will be for the Republican Party, Weixelbaum predicted, explaining that the “rise of existential racism is a culmination of the Republican Party dealing with the entropy between its voter coalitions, social conservatives, evangelicals and business folks,” a tension that he called “not sustainable over time.”

“Trump is not an aberration,” Weixelbaum said. “He’s a culmination, that what was pulling all those coalitions together was racism. Racism is not going to be something that’s going to be successful in a society that’s made up of a lot of ethnic groups, so the Republican Party has to dissolve and clean its own house, get away from the racist common thread or they’re going to be a regional party that may have a seat in Congress but can’t win the presidency.”

Windmueller said that the Jewish community’s national organizations, as well as its local community relations agencies, will also have to “push back against this being accepted conduct and discourse.” He noted the importance of having grass-roots interfaith, inter-ethnic coalitions and communities of diversity speaking with one voice.

“The most important step is for those who believe that it’s OK to extol these kinds of words and views to see that they’re being pushed back not just by Jews who are upset but Christians and Muslims and others. There’s a great, angry divide in the country but the solutions will come in collaborative efforts, not with the language of the street or the language of hate,” he said. “The question is what happens on the 9th of November. Hopefully we will take a deep sigh and address these real serious challenges.”

Windmueller paused to point out that Nov. 9 also marks Kristallnacht, the anniversary of the Night of Broken Glass pogrom in 1938 that he called “the beginning of the end of German Jewry.”

“It’s so eerie when you put the date up against history. It struck me immediately as an interesting contrast,” he said, then paused again. “Hopefully a contrast.”

Digital hate: After the election, will this be our new normal? Read More »

Hate speech in your social media feed? Try these tips

Social media sites are tools with seemingly infinite potential. In the right hands, they can be a space of community connections and great comfort, but they also can be used to promote messages of hate.

[Digital hate: 1. Unfollow, then block. 

Twitter’s abuse guidelines are very careful to distinguish between “unwanted communication” or “something on the internet we disagree with,” and “online abuse.” They advise that if you find something you don’t like, your first step should be to unfollow the user; the next step is to block them. 

2. Challenge the haters.

Historian Jason Weixelbaum, a doctoral student at American University who has received anti-Semitic Twitter messages, said offenders rarely openly communicate their intentions. 

“Ask them a direct question: ‘What do you really want to do?’ They tend to run away because they know there are limits to free speech. If they start making violent threats, [social media] companies can stop them.” He also said that engaging directly with them allows social media companies to better see the threat and act on it.

3. Energize the good guys.

When Rabbi Susan Goldberg of Wilshire Boulevard Temple — who has a few hundred followers on Twitter — was attacked on the social media platform (see main story), she reported some of the abusive accounts to Twitter. But on the advice of some friends, she did not block them. “Blocking them would give them energy,” she said. 

Instead, the rabbi took her experience to Facebook, where her network is larger, encouraging her followers to “lend your voice at this important moment and use the hashtag #‎weveseenthisbefore to stand against hate towards all.” Many wrote messages of support, tagging her Twitter account and populating it with supportive tweets, thereby pushing the hateful comments farther down the feed.

4. Call the cops.

Policies for Twitter and Facebook include language urging users to report violent threats to local law enforcement, advising them to take screenshots of abusive messages or print them out, and to share with police to help explain the threat. 

After receiving general threats online, journalist Bethany Mandel said the local police department “is aware and drives by my house,” and that she has contact information for the local Homeland Security office, the county prosecutor and the hate crimes division. Still, she said, “there’s nothing anyone can do because there’s no specific threat.” 

5. Keep expectations realistic.

When it comes to Facebook, if you see a post that is not threatening or violent but you think violates the site’s policies, the company wants you to report it for review. Just don’t always expect the company to respond the way you’d like it to.

“Every day, people come to Facebook to connect with the people and issues they care about,” said Facebook spokesperson Andrea Saul in a phone interview with the Journal. “Given the diversity of the Facebook community, this means that sometimes people will share information that is controversial or offends others.”

Saul said that “there is no place for content encouraging violence, direct threats, terrorism or hate speech on Facebook,” but, given the massive amount of content involved, it’s impossible for the platform to catch everything. 

Rabbi Yonah Bookstein, the founder of Pico Shul and a longtime blogger, said there are more nuanced challenges as well. 

“[Facebook doesn’t] appreciate that ‘Zionism’ has become the new racist code word for ‘Jew.’ ‘Kill the Zionists’ might not mean to Facebook the same as ‘Kill the Jew,’” Bookstein said. “I’m trying to get them to understand that anti-Zionism is the new anti-Semitism; it’s virulent and leading to people getting murdered. But they don’t really see the bigger, broader thing.”

Rabbi Abraham Cooper, associate dean at the Simon Wiesenthal Center and its Museum of Tolerance, who has been involved in identifying online hate for decades, acknowledged that policing social media is a complicated picture. But, he said, Facebook had a “sense of social responsibility from the beginning.” 

Cooper said that “getting a black eye in the public domain” — having attention called to a platform’s shortcomings when it comes to policing hate and terrorism — could have a major impact on how social media companies do business. 

“If a site has the reporting feature, then use it as much as possible. The only way things are going to change is if the companies get the message that enough people find them offensive,” he said. 

And yet, before you mobilize your network of friends to campaign against a Facebook post, be aware that according to Facebook’s Community Standards, “The number of reports does not impact whether something will be removed. We never remove content simply because it has been reported a number of times.” 

“Now if I see something I don’t like, I don’t get as up-in-arms about it. No need to campaign: I report it and move on,” Bookstein said. 

“People feel like they’re fighting the fight for Israel from their computer but they’re not. It’s a waste of our time to campaign [to remove objectionable content]; we should spend it on other things — to spread God’s light; make the world a better place; raise money for the widows, orphans and the poor; mitzvah projects; be Jewish together; enhance Jewish life and our impact on the world.”

Hate speech in your social media feed? Try these tips Read More »

Finding God in ‘Westworld’: The power of pain

What if a simple device could undo all your heartbreak, tragedy, trauma and loss? If a technology existed that could erase your pain, would you use it? 

This question arose in the new HBO show “Westworld,” about an Old West-style theme park populated by human cyborgs and patronized by uber-wealthy adventure-seekers. The premise of the show is that Westworld is an elaborate game: For tens of thousands of dollars, individuals can vacation in the genre-driven setting and indulge their every fantasy. Some discover their inner hero; others express their inner madness. In this park, where all is play and anything is possible, you can maim, kill and rape freely — and without consequences. The victims are only cyborgs, after all. They don’t feel a thing.

Except, as it turns out, they do. 

Whenever one of the myriad storylines in the park simulation ends with a cyborg being harmed or killed, these mechanical “hosts,” as they are called, are retrieved by management, rehabilitated and reprogrammed. Even though they are designed to look and act like humans, they are essentially hard drives whose memories are deleted each night. But because their programming is so sophisticated, they begin to develop self-awareness, and the pain of previous traumas permeates their mechanical minds.

In her recent review of the show, New Yorker television critic Emily Nussbaum compared the cyborgs to a group of marginalized, helpless citizens at the mercy of a tyrannical state. “At its richest moments,” she writes, “ ‘Westworld’ glimmers with political resonances, as the best speculative fiction can; in its way, it’s about vulnerable citizens forced to repress atrocities so that their nation can drape a patriotic story over its ugly history.”

To view the show through the prism of political allegory is compelling, but it’s also limiting. There is a deeper, spiritual message at work about the ways through which we develop self-understanding. And “Westworld” (wittingly or not) trumpets a religious point of view when it suggests that one of the ways self-knowledge expands is through trauma.

In a poignant scene, one of the lead designers questions Dolores, a blond, blue-eyed ingénue about her memories. Dolores is the oldest “host” in the park, which means she has seen her loved ones get slaughtered over and over again. “Everyone I care about is gone,” she says, “and it hurts; so badly.” 

“I can make that feeling go away if you’d like,” the designer tells her.

Her response stuns even her creator:

“Why would I want that?” she asks. “Pain … their loss … is all I have left of them. You think the grief will make you smaller inside, like your heart will collapse in on itself. But it doesn’t. I feel spaces opening up inside of me; like a building with rooms I’ve never explored.” 

It sounds so poetic, it makes suffering seem not only purposeful, but even beneficial. Imagine if — more than love or goodness — it was trauma that made you deeper, wiser and more human. 

But try telling a human being in the depths of despair that suffering is good for them — tell it to the prisoner at Auschwitz; to the mother in our community who lost her 4-year-old son in a boating accident over Labor Day. 

You’ll discover that you can’t.

Theirs are the kind of wounds that may never heal, that permanently alter the possibilities for joy in this world. Perhaps only a machine would want to hold on to the intense grief Dolores is talking about, while a real human being might choose to erase it, to forget.

In the Book of Job, that ancient work of literature that ponders the cosmic flaw of a sometimes unjust and indifferent universe, we witness a righteous man suffer a series of tremendous misfortunes. Pummeled by everything from bad weather to bitter neighbors, Job’s faith in a benevolent, all-powerful God is rightly shaken: Why would God inflict such terrible atrocities upon one person? Why go on after that? 

Why go on when you’ve already suffered so much, and you may get hurt again? Under these circumstances, it seems perfectly reasonable to buckle under the weight of the world’s brutal randomness. 

Some interpretations of Job would have us believe that we are inadequate to comprehend the ways of God. If only we could see the complete arc of the universe as God does, we’d endure our sufferings with greater understanding and less complaint. For some of us, that is hardly a comfort.

“I don’t want comfort,” Aldous Huxley wrote in his prescient novel “Brave New World.” “I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.”

If Job offers any consolation, it’s that after he goes through the trauma of his losses, he finally comes to see God. “I heard you with my ears,” he says, “but now I see you with my eyes.” 

What is left is their relationship, a moment of pure connection. 

This is what Dolores, the cyborg, longs for. It is a condition of being human. It is what makes grace and goodness possible. Even a machine knows that pain is a consequence of having loved.


Danielle Berrin is a senior writer and columnist at the Jewish Journal.

Finding God in ‘Westworld’: The power of pain Read More »

Rabbi charged with sex abuse to get 1 year of counseling, no prison

Rabbi Sholom D. Levitansky has agreed to one year of counseling and residential treatment at Beit T’Shuvah, an addiction treatment center near Culver City, after pleading no contest to two counts of sexual penetration by a foreign object of a minor.

At the Oct. 27 hearing at the Airport Courthouse on La Cienega Boulevard, his lawyer, Vicki Podberesky, told Judge Yvette Verastegui he had checked into Beit T’Shuvah the day before.

Levitansky won’t be officially sentenced until he completes the treatment program. Once he’s sentenced a year from now, he won’t face jail time but will have to register as a sex offender for the rest of his life, according to Los Angeles County District Attorney spokesperson Ricardo Santiago.

Each count of sexual penetration with a foreign object carries a maximum sentence of one year in prison, but Levitansky will serve his time at Beit T’Shuva instead of a prison sentence.

Levitansky was arrested in the fall of 2015 on felony charges relating to the sexual abuse of two teenage female victims, between 1998 and 2002. Back then, Levitansky was in his mid-20s and working at the Living Torah Center, a Chabad center in Santa Monica, where he met his alleged victims.

The Los Angeles County District Attorney charged Levitansky with five counts of oral copulation with a minor, five counts of sexual penetration by a foreign object of a minor and one count of a lewd act upon a child. Originally, he pled not guilty to all 11 charges, but entered his two no contest pleas Sept. 26.

Sima Yarmush, one of the victims who has since publicly told the story of her abuse, indicated to the Journal on Oct. 27 that she was pleased with the outcome.

“I feel that I have done everything that I can do to seek justice,” she said.

Yarmush was 14 when she alleges the abuse began, and said it went on for more than two years.

Speaking with the Journal, she said she was the only victim who was willing to go through the court process, which likely resulted in a lighter sentence for Levitansky.

“It was literally me versus him,” she said. “There was zero, zero community support, aside from JCW [Jewish Community Watch] holding my hand and, of course, my family,” she said.

JCW is a nonprofit organization dedicated to supporting Jewish victims of child sex abuse. In February 2015, more than half a year before his arrest, JCW posted a photo of Levitansky’s face on its online “Wall of Shame,” which lists accused sex abusers in the Jewish community.

Beyond JCW, Yarmush says she received help and support from her parents but few others. Years after the abuse took place, when she spoke about it with her parents, who ran the Chabad center, they immediately removed Levitansky from his post. But when her case was brought before a group of prominent Los Angeles rabbis for remediation, they ignored her, she said.

Levitansky arrived at court Oct. 27 flanked by a group of bearded men and a woman wearing a wig and holding a prayer book. Approached outside the courtroom, he declined through his lawyer to speak with the Journal.

He is scheduled to be back in court on Dec. 6 for a status review.

Rabbi charged with sex abuse to get 1 year of counseling, no prison Read More »

Jews and Muslims: Lessons from Moroccan history

It is hard for anyone paying attention to relationships between Jews and Muslims to be optimistic these days. Hope for a peaceful solution to the Israel-Palestine conflict seems to recede further and further, and mutual suspicion and prejudice among Israeli Jews and Palestinians has risen accordingly. Many Jews in France feel uncomfortable being identified as Jewish in their homeland, citing rising anti-Semitism among Muslims in particular. Since the attacks on a kosher supermarket in January 2015, record numbers of French Jews have made aliyah. And in the United States, the rise of pro- and anti-Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movements has often pitted Jews against Arabs and by extension Muslims, perhaps especially on college campuses.

There are many things we must do to combat rising anti-Semitism and Islamophobia. But as a Jew, I believe that this work must start at home, in our own communities. We cannot convincingly educate others about the dangers of anti-Semitism — which have been on upsetting display this election season here in the United States — without seriously addressing prejudice in our community. To be blunt: Jews must do everything we can to educate ourselves about Islam, and about Jews’ historic relationship with Muslims.

Fortunately, there is a long history of Jews and Muslims living together that can help change the way many in the U.S. — including many Jews — think about Muslims and the Islamic world. Unfortunately, this history is too little known. The vast majority of students who learn Jewish history are still taught an Ashkenazi-centric narrative, from Hebrew schools to day schools to universities. Even a cursory lesson in the way Jews and Muslims lived together in the Middle East before the creation of the State of Israel can challenge many of the negative stereotypes about the history of Jewish-Muslim relations.

My research focuses on Jews and Muslims in modern Morocco. Morocco’s Jewish community was and remains the largest in the Arab world: In 1950, about 250,000 Jews lived in Morocco (today, there are only about 3,000 Jews left). Before their gradual exodus, Jews lived in every single major Moroccan city, as well as in many remote towns and villages. Jews were a small but highly visible minority; even in rural areas where few Jews lived, Muslims expected visits from Jews who worked as traveling salesmen.

Jews and Muslims in pre-colonial Morocco lived largely separate lives; they rarely intermarried, they lived in segregated quarters, they celebrated different holidays and lived according to distinct sacred calendars. And the distinctions between Jews and Muslims were not those between equals: Muslims occupied a higher rung on the social and legal hierarchy, and various aspects of Jews’ daily lives reminded them of their inferior status.

Nonetheless, if one were transported back in time to Fez in, say, 1900, it probably would be difficult to tell Muslims and Jews apart. They spoke very similar dialects of Arabic; they dressed in the same style; they ate the same kinds of food; and they hired the same musical ensembles for their celebrations. But Jews and Muslims were by no means indistinguishable to one another, even if they participated in a culture that was largely shared.

Despite their differences, Jews’ and Muslims’ lives intersected frequently — often in ways we might find surprising. One of the places that brought Jews and Muslims together on a regular basis was nothing other than the Shariah courthouse. Given the demonization of “Shariah law” by so many in the United States, this might seem shocking to some. Yet in Morocco, Jews made frequent use of Shariah courts as part of their business dealings, both with Muslims and with other Jews. Indeed, in some instances Jews sought out the jurisdiction of a Shariah court, believing that they would get a more just decision from a Muslim judge than from a Jewish one.

The Assarrafs, a wealthy Jewish family from Fez, offer an excellent case study of how Moroccan Jews used Shariah courts. The Assarraf family patriarch, Shalom (1830-1910), was extremely familiar with Islamic legal institutions; at the height of his career, he visited them on average once a week. And his regular appearances in court made him an expert in Islamic law. In fact, Shalom was so knowledgeable that some Muslims appointed him as their lawyer in a Shariah court.

The past is not meant to provide a template for concrete policy proposals. But the past is instructive in its ability to change the way we think about the present, and therefore imagine different possibilities for the future. If we believe that Jews and Muslims have always been enemies and have lived in strife since the dawn of Islam, then there is little hope for improving the dynamics among Jews and Muslims today. But if we as Jews fight ignorance about the ways in which Jews lived with Muslims for hundreds of years, we can stop projecting the current dire state of Jewish-Muslim relations onto the past and the future. 

We as Jews have a responsibility to educate ourselves and others about the nuanced, complex history of Jews living among Muslims. Jews and Muslims — indeed all Americans — should know that families like the Assarrafs existed; that Jews were regular customers in Shariah courts; that Muslims hired Jewish lawyers to navigate Islamic law. With narratives like these, we have a shot at changing the conversation about Jewish-Muslim relations — past, present, and future.


Jessica Marglin is an assistant professor of religion at USC and author of “Across Legal Lines: Jews and Muslims in Modern Morocco” (Yale University Press, 2016).

Jews and Muslims: Lessons from Moroccan history Read More »

Curt Schilling calls Jews who slammed his Jake Tapper questioning ‘clowns’

Curt Schilling, a former All-Star pitcher and prospective U.S. Senate candidate, said liberal Jewish leaders who criticized his comments on Jews and Democrats were “clowns.”

“Right, I’m the one that doesn’t know history,” Schilling tweeted Wednesday after Media Matters, a liberal watchdog, posted a compilation of liberal Jewish groups and leaders condemning Schilling’s earlier comments. He added the hashtag #Clowns1andall.

Also attached to the tweet was a link to Jewish voting patterns in presidential elections going back to 1916, apparently to back up Schilling’s contention in an interview on CNN last week that Jews vote against their interests when they vote for Democrats.

Schilling’s presumptions during the interview of what Jewish interests are, and his urging Jake Tapper, an anchor, to speak for Jews and explain why they tend to vote for Democrats, drew offense among Jewish groups.

Schilling, who is contemplating a Senate run in his home state of Massachusetts, said in the interview that Democrats have been “anti-Israel” and “anti-Jewish” for 50 years.

“I would like to ask you something as a person who is practicing the Jewish faith and has since you were young,” Schilling said, prefacing his question to Tapper earlier this week.

Schilling posted the tweet in response to one from the Interfaith Alliance, which linked to the Media Matters post and called Schilling’s remarks “outrageous.” The Interfaith Alliance’s director, Rabbi Jack Moline, a longtime Democratic activist as well as a senior rabbi in the Conservative movement, was quoted in the post.

“His tone-deaf remarks about Jewish Americans are just the latest in a long line of offensive statements that call into question his judgment and values,” Moline told Media Matters. “His Facebook page alone, where he has compared Muslims to Nazis and praised the Confederacy, renders him unfit for public office.”

The Jewish officials quoted by Media Matters noted that Breitbart News, a conservative news outlet with close ties to Donald Trump, the Republican presidential nominee, hired Schilling following the controversial interview with Tapper. Breitbart, where Schilling will host a talk radio show, is also known as an outlet for the alt-right, a movement that in some iterations has flirted with white supremacy.

“The elevation of someone as blatantly bigoted and anti-Semitic as Schilling to a national media position is yet another side effect of the Trump campaign and a preview of what a Trump presidency could look like,” Stosh Cotler, the director of Bend the Arc, a Jewish group that has taken a lead in the community in opposing Trump, told the liberal media watchdog.

Rabbi Jonah Pesner, who directs the Reform movement’s Religious Action Center, said Schilling got the U.S.-Israel relationship, and American Jewish political tendencies, wrong.

“American Jews, like every other religious group in our country, hold diverse political views,” Pesner told Media Matters. “Many of us are focused on the ongoing work of racial justice, economic opportunity, religious freedom and pluralism, women’s rights, environmental protection and the full inclusion of transgender people in our religious and civic institutions.”

Schilling was suspended by ESPN, the sports broadcaster, in August 2015 after he compared Muslims to Nazis. In April, the network fired Schilling after he posted an anti-transgender comment.

Curt Schilling calls Jews who slammed his Jake Tapper questioning ‘clowns’ Read More »