Is it permissible to put the blood or flesh of a pig in one’s mouth? Is it, for that matter, permissible to but any blood from another person or animal in one’s mouth, in that Judaism blanketly prohibits blood? The opinion of the Taz1 and many other …
There once was a group of people who had been pushed into a deep pit. For years and years they tried to climb their way out of this pit, but as one, two or more would get to the top, the thieves who pushed them …
Megillat Esther on Sexism and “Who is a Jew?”
If you really paid attention to the Megillat Esther this Purim, they would have noticed a few important things about it. First is the fact that the work is extremely pro-Woman. The text literally mocks sexism at every turn. The sexist King is depicted as viewing women as objects for his gratification as well as sexual and egotistic satisfaction. When Queen Esther approaches him, it is always with great trepidation, always bearing in mind the fate of poor Vashti before her. She approaches the King, always with exaggerative respect, always repeating over and over phrases like “if it pleases the King” and such ad absurdum. Related to this pro-Woman position of the Megillah, we find a striking anti-materialism stance that even mocks the Persian obsession with cosmetics, saying that young virgins had make-up applied for no less than half a year (2.12) before being presented to the King!
The Megillat Esther furthermore demolishes the misguided and unhalakhic notion that Jewishness is a race. It points out (as the Talmud teaches from it) that a Benyamini (אִישׁ יְמִינִי, Ish Yamini) Mordecai was a Jew (יְהוּדִי) or Yehudi (2.5). It says this over and over and over, calling him “Mordecai the Jew” and “the Jew Mordecai” so many times that it starts to sound ridiculous. This makes it clear that even though he was not ancestrally of the Tribe of Judah, he was a Yehudi because he was a true “Praiser of Yah”.
The Torah tells us that “Yahadut” (the real Hebrew term for “Judaism” is not an “ism” or schism) is linguistically a form “Yehudah” (יְהוּדָה) the son of Israel and that this name came from “Praise” (odeh אודה) and God, or “YHVH” (יהוה), or simply “Yah” (יה). A “Yehudi” is “One who praises Yah.” The Talmud teaches that this refers not to an ism-schism, but to pure monotheism that anyone in the world can become.
Furthermore, it says that in one day, “many Persians” simply “became Jews” (מִתְיַהֲדִים, mityahadim). Some have tried to translate this “pretended to be Jews” as it can also literally be rendered “acted Jewish” as much as it can be rendered “became Jews.” The reality is that the Talmud says mityahadim means they became self-converted proselyte Jews. So confusion only arrises if we disregard the teachings of the ancient sages.
We further know that the sages were correct because the very next chapter begins right after by saying that the Jews suddenly had become a formidable force against the mobs that were coming after them (composed of both men and women, not unlike the mobs of Krystalnacht). But the tables had turned precisely because of this mass of giyurim (“conversions” but literally “naturalizations” into Jewry) by “many Persians” (8.17) We also find in this a linguistic lesson, that to “act Jewish” is to “become Jews”; perfectly in accordance with what the Talmud teaches on this matter.
Later rabbis too agreed that this was in fact a mass-conversion of the Persian people, just as the Talmud teaches and as the plain, grammatical reading of the Megillah indicates. Rabbi Moshe Isserles, the Rama (1530 – 1572) writes:
Fear of the Jews had fallen upon them (8.17) or, “that which the Jews feared fell upon them ” [means that] the awe of Heaven experienced by the Jews was of such intensity that it infused even their countrymen, inspiring them to convert.
That is not, however, then end of this subject. The Talmud, tractate Shabbat tells us an important detail. This was not simply an addition to the Jewish people, this was the beginning of the resurrection of Yahadut. The infusion of new life and new blood into the Jewish people literally revived it.
The Jews established and accepted (9.27) Before giving the Jews the Torah, Ha’Shem held the Mountain over them like a vat and said to them, “If you accept the Torah, fine; if not, your burial place will be there.” But they accepted it again [voluntarily and reviving what had been dormant] in the days of Achashverosh, as it says, “The Jews established and accepted” [meaning that] they established in the days of Achashverosh what they had already accepted at Sinai. (Shabbat 88a)
The question this obviously raises is, when Judaism seems to have withered, and when we noticed exclusive attitudes prevailing in some communities, and even racism in others, might these two phenomenons be linked? The Talmud is clean on the authentic Jewish position here.
Megillat Esther and Dynamic Halakhah?
The Megillat Esther tells us that at the banquet in Shoshan (1.6), there were fine hangings of mixed linen and wool. Rabbi `Ovadyah Maimuni, the grandson of the Rambam tells us that in fact the Torah’s prohibition on mixing linen and wool was because this was a custom of the idolatry amongst the nations (Al-Maqalat al-Chawdiyyah, Chapter 7). From what we see in the Megillat Esther, we can deduces that this was more specifically idolatry tied up with royalty. Perhaps even, we might extrapolate, that this was the idolatry of royalty; of believing one is above another. We do see, in fact, that Rabbi `Ovadyah Maimuni uses the Judeo-Arabic term shirk that was used in just such a way by the Sufis.
This kilayim shatnez was an extravagance that we were to avoid and it was thus prohibited to us by the Torah. The story tells us that “There were hangings of white, fine cotton, and tekhelet (תְּכֵלֶת, “blue”), bordered with cords of fine linen and purple wool (אַרְגָּמָן), upon silver rods and pillars of marble; the couches were of gold and silver, upon a pavement of green, and white, and shell, and onyx marble.”
What does this sound like? It is clearly very much like a tallit and the four corners of tzitziyot, minus the dyed purple argaman (אַרְגָּמָן) wool. It would seem that Rabbi `Ovadyah Maimuni was on to something, as to the prohibition in the Torah against mixing linen and wool in one garment.
Speak unto the Children of Israel, and instruct them that they make them throughout their generations tzitzit (צִיצִת) fringes in the corners of their [four-cornered] garments, and that they put with the fringe of each corner a thread of tekhelet (תְּכֵלֶת, “blue”). (Bamidbar/Numbers 15.38)
Additionally, Vayiqra’ tells us “You will not mix kilayim shatnez (hybrid) garments [of wool and linen]” (וּבֶגֶד כִּלְאַיִם שַׁעַטְנֵז, לֹא יַעֲלֶה עָלֶיךָ) (Leviticus 19.19) and Devarim says: “Do not wear hybrid garments of wool and linen together.” (לֹא תִלְבַּשׁ שַׁעַטְנֵז, צֶמֶר וּפִשְׁתִּים יַחְדָּו) (Devarim 22.11). As we have seen from Esther (1.6), the opulence of royalty was epitomized in the kilayim shatnez. But this is not all that the Megillat Esther has to say about this issue. A surprising twist to the story tells us of the elevation of Mordecai to authority, replacing the evil Haman.
And Mordecai went forth from the presence of the king in royal apparel of blue and white, and with a great crown of gold, and with a robe of fine linen and purple wool; and the city of Shushan shouted and was glad. (8.15)
In Bava Metziah we see that the term for purple, argamon (אַרְגָּמָן) is defined as purple wool. We see then that Rabbi `Ovadyah Maimuni was absolutely right about the reason for this prohibition, and we also see that the reason for the wearing of tzitzit was to remind us that in the sight of Ha’Shem, those who fulfill the mitzvot are in fact royalty. Thus we read “All the Children of Israel are like sons of kings” (Shabbat 111a). We then have the “royal apparel of blue and white” as well as, ideally in the historical context, the color of tekhelet as one string in each tzitzit. But the kilayim shatnez was a sign of opulence which we were forbidden outside of the context of Temple service. So why then do we read here, in the very story that acknowledges this, that towards its conclusion Mordecai wore a royal garment that was mixed with wool and linen?
What we then can note is that Esther too was in a position where her actions were not ideal – not the standard that one should live up to in terms of who one should marry – but she made a judgment call, as did Mordacai, that the lesser violation could contextually be incurred, relative to the situation. Ideally, would Esther have wanted to marry the King? The Megillah paints a pretty ridiculous picture of this feble, sexist and easily swayed man.
The Talmud itself tells us that Esther was already married to her cousin (2.15) Mordecai (Megillah 13a), a common practice in the Middle East and the Ancient world in general. The Megillah then shows at numerous points that Esther was literally being raped under coercion by the King, and that long periods of time would go between her having sex with him. Vashti, after all, was ordered to be killed due to having rejected the King’s advances. The Talmud tells us that Mordecai and Esther would secretly rendezvous between these periods of sexual activity, after Esther had made tevillah in a miqvah.
The Torah tells us that “You shall observe My statutes and My ordinances, which a man shall do and live by them.” (Vayiqra’/Leviticus 18.5) This indicates that we are to thrive by the mitzvot, not perish by them. If they become a threat to us, we are under no obligation to keep them while the threat is imminent, but we may chose to do so and become martyred. There is no obligation to be martyred, and it seems that Mordecai saw the Hand of God at work even in this grievous oppression, when he says: “Who knows, maybe you were put into this situation for just this reason” (4.14) of using it to manipulate the King and liberate the Jewish people. Had she chosen death instead of life, she would have caused the death of the Jewish people of Persia and possibly spelled the end of the Jewish people altogether!
Thus, we should consider a possibility regarding the attire of Mordecai towards the conclusion of the story. Would Mordecai have gone out and purchased such royal attire himself? If it was indeed shatnez, then no, clearly not. How do we know? Because we are earlier told of his ascetic behavior; that he dressed in sackcloth and smeared ashes on his body almost as one might see an Indian Sadhu withdrawing into a meditative samhadi retreat covered in ashes still today (4.1).
In Mordecai”s context, he was moved into a high position where he could now protect the Jewish people, and this meant choosing his battles; it very well might have meant conceding to wear linen and wool together in a single garment, understanding the reason for the prohibition, but also understanding that he was not wearing it for the sake of opulence, but for the sake of not alienating a people who was finally starting to rise in prominence, after almost having been massacred. Though later rabbis would attempt to explain this, their interpretations varied with one another and the text itself is not clear either way that the materials were in separate fabrics or in one garment.
It is possible that the royal attire was the pride of Persia and to reject it at such an occasion, when it was not a mitzvah preventing anyone from harm, but one of keeping one humble (and understanding that spirit), he made a judgment call, and contextualized the mitzvah of prohibiting these mixed materials. He wore them anyway. Does this mean that we should mix linen and wool? Only if we find ourselves in a position like Mordecai. But why this was interwoven into the story was to teach us that the mitzvot were made for us, we were not made for the mitzvot. Again, the Torah tells us to live by the mitzvot, not to die by them. Indeed, Devarim says “I have set life and death before you… chose life.”
The Garments of the Kohenim in the Temple and How It Ties In
Rashi reflects on Niddah (61b) and Megillat Esther (15) that Mordechai wore a “[woolen] purple tunic with white [linen] woven in the center” which were woven, but not spun, together. The pasuq relates: “Mordecai left the king’s presence clad in royal apparel of turquoise and white with a large gold crown and atakhrikh (תַכְרִיךְ, robe) of fine linen and purple wool”. This word takhrikh, we read, implies that the linen and purple wool were wrapped one around the other but were not woven together. Is this the case? As mentioned, the Rishonim were not in agreement. While the term takhrikh is used, and implies a shroud, the passage seems to indicate that the shroud itself was composed of both materials.
We might, however, look now at a deeper issue, besides trying to look at his actions and see them as not having been the obvious. The Torah itself does not outrightly prohibit mixing these materials. Within the context of the Temple priesthood, we are told that the Kohenim must mix them for Temple garments (Tractate Zebachim. 18b; Tractate Yoma 12b; in explaining Sh’mot/Exodus 28.6).
Could the Megillat Esther have been making a statement, a commentary on the nature of Mordecai’s activity? Could it have in fact have being saying that Mordecai had been elevated not only in terms of physical, temporal status, but also in terms of spiritual status? Does the Torah not say “And you shall be to Me a Kingdom of Kohenim (כֹּהֲנִים), and a Goy Qodesh (גוֹי קָדוֹש, Holy Nation).” (Exodus/Sh’mot 19.4)?
This discussion leads us to reopen the annals of history, of Jewish history. Many of us do not know much, some do not know anything, about the Jewish philosophies of the Second Temple Era. Why must we know about them? Isn’t the past just in the past? We must know about these philosophies because with the Galut, many of the less-successful memes joined with the dominant approach of the Beyt Hillel. The Council of Yavneh did not make Essenism (who the Talmud calls the Chassidim Rishonim) disappear, nor Sadduceeism disappear. We must then seek to unravel the interweaving of Sadduceeism from our Jewish tapestry. We must look at the debate between this group that dominated the Temple cult and the Essenes, both claiming to be the true priesthood. We must reexamine what this meant, historically, for the Jewish people who Ha’Shem said would be a Kingdom of Kohenim. Finally, we must ask ourselves what this means for the Jewish people as we move towards the Messianic Era.
Purim Sameach / (“פורים שמח / سعيد المساخر عيد (“مقترعين
In his letter to rabbi Yosef ben Ha’Rav Yehudah, Maimonides explained his belief that in the future “all of Israel will subsist on it alone” in reference to his Mishneh Torah, over even the Talmud, as the Jewish people “will ABANDON ALL ELSE BESIDES IT …
In Adebayo Oyebade’s “The Study of Africa in Historical Perspective” the author informs us of the history of Eurocentric presumptions of Africa’s lack of history and thus, lack of civilization (7). Oyebade emphasizes, however, that history in many parts of Africa was primarily preserved by …
The occurrence of Chanukah – coming on the 24th day of the month of Kislev – corresponds with approach of the winter solstice. The holiday brings a reminder that no matter how immersed in darkness we are, light will always return. As such, we need not merely wait on the return of a light outside of our control – whether the light of dawn or the light of those warmer months – but we can engage the darkness through co-creation, deliberately acting to create light within the darkness.
The significance of the holiday goes even deeper than this. The mystical teachings of Chassidut relay that the lights of Chanukah represent the regenerative power of the spirit. The Chanukah menorah, or Chanukiyah, is to be lit around nightfall. It is to be placed on the left side of the doorway, no more that 10 handbreadths (tefachim) high. The placement is an invitation to the Divine Presence, (Shekhinah), to descend and meet us at whatever our level of comprehension may be. The significance of the “left” side of the doorway lies in the concept that the left side, or pillar of the Kabbalistic Etz Chayyimis mystically associated with sitra achra.
Every detail of this ritual symbolizes the spiritual power to illuminate the sitra achra or “dark side.” When we count up the number of lights lit throughout the whole holiday, we find that number is 44, the number by which all base materialism is defined. We thus see that in Chinese the sound of the number four (四) is a homophone with the word for “death” (死), both pronounced sǐ. Thus, the Chanukiyah alights 44 protections against the sitra achra.
This protection is borne, however, from our intentionality of tiqqun `olam. If we merely go through the motions of the ritual, with empty form then we derive little benefit. The purpose of the ritual is to cement the intention towards hashlamah. By shining this light into the streets one symbolizes their individual commitment to bring about positive change in a world where light often grows dim. This is because each Jew is to be an aur l’goyyim, a light unto the nations. That is what it means to be a praiser of Yah – a Yehudi. The cosmological battle of light over darkness, which occurs as we approach the solstice, bears a strong parallel to the uprising of the Jewish people over two millennia ago. Of course, it is well known that herein the ritual of Chanukah originated.
The Roots of the Tradition
With the victory of Alexander in 333 BCE two states that succeeded under a series of Hellenistic kings, descended from his generals. These were known primarily as the Seleucids in Syria and the Ptolemies in Alexandria, Egypt. The region of the Levant swung back and forth between the control first of the Seleucids, and second of the Ptolemies. As a general tendency, relations with the latter were more cordial than those with the former. The War for Independence, erupting in 167 BCE, was waged because of, and against, not only Seleucid Hellenization but their religious intolerance towards monotheism.
The war against the Seleucids was primarily led by Judah Maccabee and his father Mattathias, Matityahu ben Yochanan Ha’Kohen. The Greeks had invaded the Land of Israel, desecrating the Temple and persecuting the Jewish people. The spiritual leaders of the day feared, or perhaps recognized, that the extreme egocentrism and disproportionately materialistic outlook of the Greek culture would be a negative influence upon the captive people. And yet, it was not merely a battle to throw off foreign influence, but influence of a culture which took monotheism itself to effectively be treasonous. In the mindset of the ruling power, and the Romans who followed, if you refused to honor the gods of other nations, and give a sacrificial tribute to them, even customarily, this was regarded much the same way that refusing to salute the flag or participate in Fourth of July celebrations would be in the United States today.
“The Abomination That Causes Desolation”
Chanukah is the Hebrew word for dedication. Accordingly, this holiday represents and commemorates the dedication of the Temple to Ha’Shem after it had been completely desecrated. The prophet Daniel refers to the “Holy Ones,” (Qedoshim) as making war on an evil adversary or foreign invader who has violated the Temple and pillaged it.
This foreigner who had “abolished perpetual sacrifice,” is undeniably Antiochus “Epiphanes” (Dan. 7:13-8:12). Antiochus has been the villain in Chanukah festivals ever since. What does this mean though? Isn’t sacrifice barbaric? Weren’t the Greek’s “enlightened” for abolishing it?
In fact, the reality is much different that it seems on the surface. The Greeks were well know to eat any animal they craved and to kill any animal, anywhere, in any quantity they desired. The Jewish people were told in the Torah that in our Edenic state, the ideal was to live in peace with the natural world, to not kill any. Eventually permission was given to those who persisted in their desire for animals, as the nations. Everyone from the Rambam to Rashi understood this to be a concession to existing polytheistic customs, and never the ideal. When sacrifice is first mentioned in the mitzvot, the Radak points out that the Torah uses the word “ki” to mean “if any of you brings a sacrifice” (Lev. 1.2)
There were always examples throughout the Tanakh against this. The prophets tell us that Ha’Shem does not desire sacrifice and finds it abhorrent (Isaiah 66.3-4, Jeremiah 7.21-23, Hosea 8.11-13; Amos 5.21-25) The Nazirite ideal maintained that one would not consume animals until the expiration of that oath. Many who have not examined the sources on Nazirut have this backwards and believe that the oath entailed sacrificing animals. Indeed, many believe that when the Temple stood, animal consumption was required, even though the Talmud clearly says otherwise (Tosafot, Yoma 3a, and Rabbenu Nissim, Sukkah 42b).
After the expiration of the Nazirite oath, or if it was terminated early, one would bring an animal to the Temple to be sacrificed. Why? Because eating an animal was only permitted in Judaism if one brought an animal of the rigorous specifications laid out in the Torah, and brought it to the Temple to be killed. This was the only way that meat could be eaten. If you stopped being a Nazirite, the assumption was that you returned to consuming animals. The notion of only eating an animal killed at a certain spot, in a certain way was a strange idea to the hedonism of the Seleucid barbarians. Far from spreading Greek “Enlightenment”, the Seleucids spread intolerance of carnal restraint.
In practice, the Torah greatly reduced meat consumption. One could not simply say, as the nations, that they were going to sacrifice their weak and sickly animals to their gods. If their was their excuse, they would have to take the best of their animals, ones that could otherwise be used. They would have to do this, travel, wait, and have the animal killed in just such a way, in just such a place. How few animals must have died, comparatively to the those in the other nations! Indeed, Rav Kook felt that based on the prophecy of Isaiah – that “the lion will lay down with the lamb” – that there will only be sacrifices involving vegetarian foods during the Messianic Era!
What the Greeks opposed then, were these rules and regulations that sought to restrain the human hedonistic impulses. We see this epitomized in the act of Antiochus’s sacrifice of a pig in the Temple. The Greek culture could not relate to a path which would tell them to show regard even for animals, which would tell them that the ideal, original state of humankind was living primitively in a state of harmony with animals. They could not relate to a path where even as a bare minimum, there were certain meats that no one could eat. They could not see the point to restricting intercourse during niddah as the Jewish people observed in common with Eastern cultures who had realized the energetic benefit of the same thing. They could not relate to a people who held the Supreme Name and conceptualization of Divinity to be a verb, rather than a noun describing an anthropomorphic deity. Worse still, the gods worshiped by the Greeks, and before them the Babylonians, were simply nefilim to the Jewish people. They were “mighty men of old” in tales of demi-gods raping humans, but they were regarded as nothing more than created beings in the Torah.
That is to say, the Torah is an insult to dualism and divisionism of the polytheism, and pantheons of the nations. For the Torah, there is no “god” there is a VERB – “YHVH” – which is to be worshipped and revered as though it were the One and Only “God” in existence. But It IS Existence. For this reason, the Greeks and Romans considered the Jewish religion to be atheistic in nature.
With the advent of “the Abomination That Causes Desolation”, from the perspective of Judah, the Temple had been polluted. This pollution symbolizes the pollution of the Jewish people by the thinking of the nations. So though we were told that the Exile, the Galut was for us to gain Jews from amongst the nations, we find that the oppressions of the nations caused us to believe what they told us about ourselves. Rabbi Johanan was confirmed by Rabbi Eleazar ben Pedat, in asserting that Ha’Shem exiled the Jewish people for only one reason, to increase the number of people from the nations who would become Jews (Pesachim 87b)
The nations however, told us that to be a Jew was not a spiritual practice, but a secular identity, a race. Why did they tell us this? Because like Esau, they were shown the Torah and they rejected it. Like Esau, they regarded the Torah as death and rejected it when offered it as their birthright. Instead, they sold it for a pitiful price; the price of barbarism, hunting down wild animals as if we were some blood thirsty predatory, craving “red-red” stew; barely human, more a cave-man than anything yosher or yashar.
Just as Esau craved the red-red stew, the Christian church speaks endlessly of Mithraic blood-rites, in ways that make it scarcely possible to imagine that their religion’s roots were in Judaism. Because they rejected the Torah, because Paul regarded it as death, just as did Esau, then they had to have some way to explain the Jewishness of a Messiah which they taught had come to abolish the Torah and Mitzvot. If his Jewishness was not defined by what he did, it had to be an ethnic Jewishness, a Jewishness that the Europeans could only identify as a look of being foreign to them. They could not conceive of a Torah-based definition of Jewishness. They could not wrap their minds around the story of Esther, that “many Persians” simply “became Jews” (Esther 8.17 מִתְיַהֲדִים) by implementing Jewish practice.
So they told us that to be a Jew meant to be a look, a race, that was different, that looked like this stereotype or that. They didn’t know that Jews resided in all parts of the world, even then. So the Temple was polluted by the ideas and worship of Antiochus, but over the years of the Galut, the idea of Jewishness amongst Israel has been polluted by the false worship of nationalism and racial identity held by Esau.
“Rededication”
Chanukah marks the triumphant and miraculous victory of the Hebrew people, led by the Maccabees, against the oppression of the Seleucid Greeks, on a continuum of oppression, religious persecution and suppression that culminated in the Romans. This victory was miraculous, not only in the sense that the revolutionary forces were greatly out numbered by their adversaries, but in another spiritual sense as well. The “rededication,” or Chanukah of the Temple, rebuilt by Zerubbabel, was performed by the revolutionary leader Judah Maccabee, in conjunction with its cleaning from impure hands. When the Maccabees came to rededicate the Temple, they found only one unopened cruise, or flask, of oil with which to light the Menorah. Despite the fact that this amount of oil was clearly insignificant to last for more than one day, it did. In fact, this seemingly insignificant amount of oil lasted for eight days. After this period of eight days the Temple was restored and purified; accordingly new oil was then able to be obtained.
The miracle of the oil that lasted for eight days tells us that we do not need to wait for the Messianic Era to initiate and inaugurate it. It tells us that we do not need to wait for Mashiach to save us from the problems the Jewish people face today, or the problems sometimes created in our name by those who have forgotten the meaning of being Jews. It tells us that if we will take the spark and light the fire, the light will burn for as long as it needs to so long as we set the process into motion and put the Torah into action.
The miracle of the oil that lasted for eight days reawakens the children of the Most High to an appreciation of the Holy Mystery and the Infinite One, symbolized by the number 8, symbolizing the underlying spiritual current which flow throughout the material universe, (which is generally associated with the number seven). Interestingly, perhaps synchronically, an eight turned on its side is the mathematical symbol for infinity.
One candle is lit every evening after sundown until the menorah shines fully on the final night of the festival. These candles are sanctified and not used for any other purpose than for this. Why? To remind us that we have but one purpose here. It is not for us to become intoxicated by our jobs, wealth, women, men, politics, nationalism, identifications with false boundaries of political or physical, biological borders. We are here to be an aur l’goyyim, a light in the darkness, a light which does not light itself, but a light lit from the source of all light, symbolized by the shamash. The Talmud teaches us that we were given the Torah in order to bring it to the nations (Tanhuma Dt. 2).
The Chanukiyah candles are placed on the menorah from right to left, indicating the order of emanation. However, conversely, they are lit in order from left to right thus symbolizing the reality that we embrace holiness with increasing devotion as we progress through life, and that our later deeds will receive light more quickly than our earlier ones, due to the nature of increasing, exponential perfection as we journey on.
Though this holiday is also celebrated in synagogues, Chanukah is first and foremost a celebration of the people in their homes, for it is there that liberation truly begins. In living Chanukah, each of us transforms our places of dwelling into Holy Temples; wherein our actions towards bringing about actuation of the Divine Will creates a light that shines into the very core of our Creator’s being. As we act in partnership with our Creator, in bringing back the light and “raising the sparks,” we pray that the inextinguishable human spirit of righteousness and holiness banish the overwhelming forces of darkness and oppression in this world. Though at times this battle may seem overwhelming, we learn from and ritualistically symbolize in Chanukah, that even a small amount of light can illuminate a mass of darkness, and even though it seems impossible, if we will light that light, it will keep burning even when it seems impossible for it to be maintained.
Question and Comments from Jeremy ben-Daniel: Who was the man who wrestled with Ya`qov? Was it indeed a man (ish)?`Esav? Melkhitzedeq (Shem)? Was it an angel?Was it, as the Talmud indicates, `Esav’s ‘angel’? Why did `Esav have an angel assigned to begin with? Or …
There was once a world populated by monkeys who had been taught to revere ants. These monkeys were not stupid at all, though to human beings they might seem to be. These monkeys were in many ways the same as what we think of as …
Sometimes people ask me why i don’t like the Donmeh or the Shatz (Shabbatai Tz’vi)… Read the following from his and NoG’s manifesto and tell me if you would be stoked on a dude saying this shit and then crapping out when push came to shove:
“Hear ye, brethren in Israel that our Messiah is come to life in the city of Ismir and his name is Shabbetai Zevi. Soon, he will show forth his kingdom to all and will take the royal crown from the head of the Sultan and place it on his own. When nine months have passed, our Messiah shall vanish from before the eyes of Israel, and no one should be able to say if he is alive or dead. He will cross the river Sambatyon, which as all men know no mortal has ever crossed. There, our Messiah shall ride forth through Jerusalem, with Moses and all the Jews of old mounted on horses. He himself shall ride on a dragon, and his bridle rein shall be a snake with seven heads. On his way, he will be attacked by Gog and Magog, the enemies of Israel, with a mighty arm. But the Messiah with the breath of his nostril shall he rout them, and by his word alone, shall he utterly destroy them. And when he is entered in Jerusalem, God will send down a temple of gold and precious stones from heaven, and it will fill the city with its brilliance. And on that day shall the dead throughout the world rise from their graves. I hasten to tell you these tidings.”
The Shatz was not Judeo-Sufi AT ALL at any time. He pledged to be exclusively “Muslim” as the Caliphate understood it, when he was threatened with death. He didn’t return to fight another day, asserting that his comments were taqiyyah nor that he had an enlightened view of “Islaam” different from the Caliphate regimes. Instead, he just basically agreed to back off and to tell everyone to be good little Muslim boys and girls.
The real disappearance of Judeo-Sufism, and records of the `Issuniyim trace to his betrayal of the hopes of Israel (the historical name for the Jewish people, for those Muslim brothers and sisters who are unaware). After his betrayal, you couldn’t talk about ideas that were common in Judeo-Sufism, or the `Issuniyyah. That’s when these ideas, that were never the majority, became impossible to talk openly about without being wrongly associated with the Donmeh.
The Shatz is almost single-handedly responsible for the splintering of Jewry into the notion that Jewish means cut off any connection with Islaam, with things Muslims do, Judeo-Arabic, etc. The vacuum that he left in the hopes and dreams of redemption in the Jewish communities who had invested in him, would not be filled until the emergence of the Besht (Ba`al Shem Tov) and the “Chasidut” Movement he brought; aptly taking the name of the Judeo-Sufi pietism (the first Judeo-Sufis were called Chassidim).
More at some future date. Just thoughts right now.
The entire history of the development of Anti-Jewish propaganda in Ithnā’ `Ashariyyah Shī`īsm is too long a history to recount here. It will suffice, however, to jump forward a few centuries to the Allāhdad massacre of 1839 in Iran. The dismal picture of the severe …