Identities

The cover is blown... sort of.

Over Shabbos, I found out that I am not nearly as anonymous as I was a few weeks ago.  A recent post of mine was read by someone who knows the subject of the post, who then spread the word (not out of malice, but because they liked what I said in the post).

Truth to tell, I'm actually okay with it.  When I wrote the post I was well aware that there was a possibility that someone could identify me from the post.  If I were truly paranoid about my "secret identity" I probably would not have posted it to begin with (or at least altered it significantly more than I did).  So, I can't say that I'm totally shocked by this. 

In addition, I have no regrets about writing the post.  I was touched and moved by the events of the day...and I still am.  I thought that they deserved to be written about and shared... and I still do.  So I don't regret writing the post, even if it means that many more people know who I am.

In reality, I've been going back and forth on the whole "anonymous blogger" bit for a few years already.  Back in 2009, I was considering just coming out and revealing who I am*.  At the time, I simply chose to remain anonymous. Nonetheless, despite that decision, I did begin the "coming out" process.  I informed some close friends** and family members about my blog.  I posted about real-life people that I knew (even if it meant that their families would be able to identify me).  I even went to a blogger's meet-up without a mask and allowed myself to be photographed.  :)  In addition, many of the photographs that I post on this blog are posted elsewhere on the 'net under my real name.  It was probably only a matter of time before someone saw one of my pictures and said to him/herself, "Hey, didn't I see that picture somewhere else..."

With all that being said, however, I'm not going to be revealing my name here.  I expect that if you really wanted to find out who I am, you could probably do it without too much difficulty.  If you know me in real life and want to ask me about my blog, by all means, feel free to ask.  If you don't know me in real life... well, my name probably wouldn't mean anything to you anyway.  I'm not a famous (or infamous) person... just a regular frum guy in Brooklyn posting on a blog.  So, there's not going to be any "grand announcement" of my identity... but I'm not going to be paranoid about it either.  I guess you can call it "pseudo-anonymous."

For those of you who do know me in real life and are aware of this blog, I ask you to please not make any public announcements.  If someone asks you directly if the Wolf is so-and-so, by all means, don't lie.  But please don't just give it out to every Tom, Dick or Harry who asks without reason (and I leave it up to your discretion as to whether it's a good reason or not).

Thanks,

The Wolf

* Not that my real name would probably mean anything to you.  I'm not a famous person.
** If you're reading this and you're thinking "we must not be close because he never told me..." please don't think that way.  If you never expressed an interest in blogs one way or the other, then there would have been no reason for me to mention it.   

The Misaligned Moral Compass in New Square

It is being reported that Shaul Spitzer, the person accused in the attempted murder of Aron Rottenberg and his family, has been released from the hospital and is back in the yeshiva in New Square.

The fact that Spitzer has been welcomed back to the yeshiva shows that moral compass of the leaders of the community is severely misaligned.

In New Square, you can be thrown out of school for the crime of having a parent who davens in the wrong shul, as happened to Rottenberg's daughter.  You would, presumably, face expulsion if you had a television in your home, had unfiltered internet access, had the wrong books, etc.  But attempt to murder a family in their sleep by fire?  For that, you get to come back to the yeshiva.

Assuming the yeshiva is under the control of the Skvere Rebbe, I have to admit that the fact that Spitzer is allowed back into the yeshiva really makes the condemnation of the attack very suspect.  How can he condemn the attack in public and yet allow Spitzer back into the school when he expels other people from educational institutions for far, far less?  I'm also left to wonder if the leaders of the New Square community haven't completely lost their sense of morality.

The Wolf

Photos: What Is It?

I haven't posted a photo challenge in a while, so perhaps it's time for a new one.  Here's the pic:

Canon XSi, MP-E 65mm lens at 5x, f/16, 15 seconds

The only clues I will give you is that the image you are seeing is magnified 5x its normal size and the subject(s) was (were) found in my home. 

The first one who guesses correctly the subject of the picture receives twenty Wolf points.

The Wolf

... And I Sat Down And Cried.

The Bar Mitzvah in our shul this past Shabbos was unlike any other Bar Mitzvah I ever attended; but that's simply because the young man is unlike any other Bar Mitzvah I ever met before.

Reuvain is a child with Down's Syndrome. It only takes a single glance at Reuvain to know that he's not quite like you and I. Despite the fact that he's been around for thirteen years, his height and face are more reminiscent of that of a seven year old. His speech can sometimes be unclear and he occasionally has issues dealing with certain social situations, including large and noisy crowds.

In the six years that I've been davening in my present shul, I've come to feel that I know Reuvain to some extent. His is the face that I see when I lain. I say that because whenever he is present in shul during laining, he takes a chair and stands on the opposite side of the bimah from me. From there he will watch and listen attentively as I lain. He’s also often the one “in charge” of placing and removing the cover of the Torah in between aliyos. Usually, at some point toward the end of the laining, he will ask me for the yad, as he likes to hold on to it. My usual response to him is that I still have two or three or four (or however many) aliyos still to lain before I can give it to him. He'll look at me and smile and wait patiently until the end of laining so that I can give him the yad. In some ways, it's become a bit of a game between us. In the past, I've told him that he can have the yad after I finish the aliya after kaddish, but he still asks, and so I'll still him "three more aliyos" or "two more aliyos."

In truth Reuvain is a very special person in our shul -- and that is a testament to both his parents and the people in our shul. It is unfortunate that in the past, children such as Reuvain were hidden away, lest their very existence bring shame the family and ruin chances for shidduchim for the other members. It's even more unfortunate that this type of attitude actually still exists in some places. Reuvain's parents, on the other hand, never subscribed to this mode of thinking. They have done their best to integrate Reuvain into the shul to the best of his capabilities. He comes to shul nearly every week and davens and participates as best he can. As I mentioned earlier, he is always present and watching during laining. When the Sefer Torah is taken out of the aron, he is there to help, and when it's being put away, he's there waiting to kiss the Sefer and help put it away. Reuvain has never been hidden away by his parents -- he is one of their children and, to the best of his ability, they and their other children have tried to fit him in and mainstream him as much as possible.

The people (and especially the children) in the shul have embraced Reuvain as one of their own. It's all too easy and common for children to make fun of another child who is different -- and there is no denying that Reuvain is different in just that way that might cause other children to poke fun at him. But that's not what the children in our shul do. Instead, he's one of them. I have a very vivid memory of Simchas Torah a few years ago where Reuvain was dancing in the shul with his stuffed Torah and all the other children in the shul were dancing in a circle around him, celebrating with him, making him the focus of their celebration. The adults, too, welcome Reuvain with open arms. After davening he will often go around to wish "Good Shabbos" to all the men in shul, and they will all shake his hand and with him a "Good Shabbos" in return.

I have a slightly more personal connection with Reuvain than the average person in our shul. For some reason that I have yet to fathom, Reuvain has taken a liking to me personally. He has somehow locked on to me as a figure of admiration and friendship. Perhaps one short story will illustrate this and provide some background for what happened this past Shabbos.

In our shul, the custom is to give pre-Bar Mitzvah boys individual aliyos on Simchas Torah. Reuvain had been practicing the b'rachos for his Bar Mitzvah and knew what to say if he wanted to have an aliyah. Reuvain was given the opportunity to have an aliyah and was somewhat ready to go, but when his turn came, he got cold feet and didn't want to go. So, we called up some other boys instead and, after each one was finished, we gave Reuvain the opportunity to have the next aliyah. This continued until we got up to the very last aliyah before Kol HaN'arim. He was then told that if he wanted to have an aliyah, it would have to be then. In the end, with his father's help, he mustered up the courage and took his first aliyah. Amid tears of joy, his parents watched as he said the b’rachos on the Torah and stood there for his first aliyah. I was later informed by Eeees that Reuvain was asked what made him change his mind and agree to have an aliyah. He said that he did it for me.  Needless to say, I felt extremely honored and touched.

I knew in advance that, for his Bar Mitzvah, Reuvain was supposed to read the Maftir. His father had been telling me in the months leading up to the big day that he had been practicing with his teacher and that he had been making wonderful progress. I hadn't heard him practicing his laining, but I had heard him practicing Ain Kailokeinu and Aleinu and, over time, I could see his progress there. I figured that if he could lain the Maftir, it would be a wonderful thing. I certainly didn't expect anything more.

So there we were on the big day in shul. All manner of friend and family were gathered to watch this special boy become Bar Mitzvh. I finished laining the parsha and returned to my seat so that Reuvain could lain the Maftir. However, after the gabbai called Reuvain up to the Torah, we could hear him saying "Don't want" from his seat. The poor kid probably wasn't prepared for the large crowd of people and retreated into his shell. His father took him outside to try to calm him. In the meantime, the congregation waited.

After about ten minutes (and after consulting with the Rav), his parents decided to try slowly acclimatizing him to the crowd. They brought Reuvain into the shul and all the men except for his father and his Bar Mitzvah teacher left. While everyone was outside, Reuvain practiced the laining again. After he practiced it once, Reuvain's brothers and some other relatives were brought back in, and he practiced the laining again. After that, some more men (including myself) were brought back in and he did it yet again. Finally, the rest of the men were brought back into the shul and this time, he lained the Maftir with the b'rachos. I'd probably be lying if I said there wasn't a single dry eye in the house, but there certainly were quite a few more wet ones than there are at a standard Bar Mitzvah. After his aliyah, while we were all singing Mazel Tov, his Bar Mitzvah teacher picked him up and began dancing with him. You could see the love and caring that he had for that child.

To my surprise, Reuvain wasn't quite done. After finishing the Maftir (and after one more "practice session" without everyone leaving the room), Reuvain recited the b'rachos for the haftorah and then proceeded to read the entire haftorah (and recite the b'rachos afterward), an accomplishment that completely shocked and amazed not only myself, but just about everyone in shul. The Rav of our shul, a fellow who doesn't often get flustered, was so completely moved by Reuvain's accomplishment that he could barely speak. You could hear his voice breaking from emotion as he gave the d’rasha (or as much of it as he could) after the haftorah was completed.

In addition to Reuvain's accomplishment, there was also the attitude of the people in the shul. The whole process of getting Reuvain comfortable enough to be able to lain added about thirty minutes to the davening. It certainly would have been within the rights of anyone in the shul to stand up and protest on grounds of tircha d'tzibbura. But the fact of the matter is that no one complained about the delay or about being asked to leave the shul and return. Everyone did it willingly for this special young man.

I’m not normally the type of person to get chocked up or overly emotional. I sometimes like to pride myself on my ability to keep my emotions reasonably in check. In addition, I have over twenty years experience in teaching bar mitzvah boys how to lain and nearly twenty years experience as a parent. I sometimes like to think that, when it comes to Bar Mitzvahs, I’ve “seen it all” and that there is little that can move me emotionally.  For example, when Walter and George became Bar Mitzvah, I was certainly very joyous and felt a lot of pride, but I did not become all choked up about it. But for this little boy things were different. This is a kid – no, make that this is a young man – who has had to struggle to developmentally grow and thrive in his life. This is a young man who, because of his dedication and the love and devotion of his parents and teachers, was able to get up on his Bar Mitzvah day and exceed everyone’s expectations of what he was able to accomplish.

Some people may have been able to hold their emotions in check. The Rav of the shul, as I mentioned above, was barely able to. As for me, it was hopeless. I was too overcome with emotion.  After the Rav finished speaking, I went into an isolated spot of the shul, and I sat down and cried.

The Wolf

Arson In New Square... and the Silence That Followed.

This week, Shaul Spitzer, a New Square man,attempted to burn down own the house of another New Square man.  Spitzer arrived at the  home of Chaim Aron Rottenberg at around 4:00 on Sunday morning, armed with Molotov cocktail-like devices.  Fortunately, Rottenberg woke up before Spitzer could set fire to the house, killing Rottenberg and his family.  Instead, Rottenberg confronted Spitzer. At some point, the incendiary device was lit, with Rottenberg suffering third degree burns over 50% of his body.  Spitzer, who was also burned during the confrontation, has been arrested and charged with arson and attempted murder.

It turns out that this is not the first time that Rottenberg and his family have been targeted.  In the previous few months, there have been nighttime protests outside his home (complete with calls such as "Sheigetz get out of New Square"), car and home windows have been smashed and other acts of intimidation.

You may ask what it was that Rottenberg did to deserve all this.  Did his wife act in a non-tznius fashion?  Did he read Rabbi Slifkin's books?  Does he author a blog? 

The answers to the above questions are no.  Rottenberg's crime, for which he and his family were going to be murdered, was davening in the wrong minyan.  Apparently, in New Square, the Rebbe had instituted a rule years go that everyone must daven in the main shul in New Square.  Rottenberg, for whatever reason, chose instead to daven in a minyan in a nearby nursing home.  For this reason, his family has bee the subject of intimidation and harassment for months.

I believe that when something like this happens, a community is obligated to stop and re-evaluate itself.  While the actual act of arson may have been the work of a lone person*, the campaign of harassment was not and surely was endorsed by communal leaders.  When a community allows itself to physically harass and intimidate people over the choice of shul, then there is something severely wrong with the community.

The silence of the Skver Rebbe on this matter has been absolutely deafening.  To date, he has not condemned publicly condemned the attack on Rottenberg.  There are at least two possible reasons for this.  The first is that he is so far removed from his congregation that he does not know what is happening.  The second is that he knows what is happening and he approves.  Either way, the Skver Rebbe does not look good.  If he is unaware of a major event such as this, and unaware of the campaign of intimidation that has been going on for months, then his capabilities as a communal leader are virtually nonexistent.  If, on the hand, he knows and approves, then he's no better than a common thug.  Either way, the silence is showing that the Rebbe may well be unfit to lead the community.

When an event like this happens, a community must also stop and remind themselves of their  larger environment.  I'm not talking, in this case, about the chillul HaShem that has come out of this.  What I'm talking about is the attitude of the community concerning their perceived autonomy. 

There are those who believe that the Skver Rebbe has a right to dictate to people which shul to daven in.  Likewise, there are those who feel that it's perfectly all right to use intimidation,harassment and terror -- up to and including arson -- to enforce that rule.  Of course, there are laws against that sort of behavior, laws that, due to the isolation and homogeneity of the town, they feel they can ignore.  There are those who seem to feel that it' perfectly all right for New Square to be run as an absolute theocracy, and that those who don't fall in line should be forced out by whatever means possible.  They will state that New Square has the "right to set standards" for itself and that if Rottenberg or others "don't like it, they should just move."

 Fortunately, we live in a country where that's not the rule.  A community does NOT have the right to set religious standards and then ruthlessly pursue those that don't hold those standards.  It would serve the New Square community well to reflect upon the laws that grant them the freedom to be free from harassment in the first place.  You cannot assert the right to live where you want while practicing your religion and then turn around and deny the same to others.  There's a word for that sort of behavior -- hypocrisy.   And it would do the Skver Rebbe (or whomever is leading the community) well to remember that he, too, is subject to the laws of the United States and the State of New York – and that ordering a person to be harassed out of the community through violence is against those laws.

What is also astounding to me is that there are people who actually defend what Spitzer and the rest of the community have been doing.  They actually maintain that the leader of the community has the right to tell you where you can pray and that if you don’t follow his instructions to the letter, you forfeit your right to live there, you can (and should be) forced out of your home and publicly hounded until you leave.  They support the idea that a group of people should be allowed to set up a mini-theocracy where one person’s word is absolute law and that by living in the area, you surrender any and all rights (both halachic and legal) to which you are entitled. 

But the truth is that they don’t really mean it.  Oh yes, it’s good for them when they control the show, but I’d be willing to bet dollars-to-donuts that if a group of Chassidim moved into a hypothetical isolated Modern Orthodox community and were subject to this type of harassment that they would be registering their complaints as loudly as possible (and rightly so). 

And, in the end, what’s the cause of all this?  Because Rottenberg chose to daven in another shul.  I can’t help but wonder if this is exactly the sort of sinas chinam (baseless hatred) that is mentioned as the cause of the destruction of the second Bais HaMikdash. 

UPDATE:  The victim's name for tehillim is Chaim Aharon ben Chaya Sara.

The Wolf

* or not.  It is as of yet unknown if Spitzer was acting alone or under orders from higher authorities in the community.
 

The Irony... (UPDATED)

You've got to love it when a weekly newspaper such as the Israeli Yated puts the following letter in their paper.

All of the weeklies and freebies, including Mishpachah, distort and blur the holy Torah world view we received from our rabbonim and one should not, choliloh, bring newspapers of this sort into the home or promote them in any way.

And granting any hechsher to such newspapers is clearly out of the question.

This applies even more to radio of any kind and all Internet sites, all of which are provocative and destroy the soul, and are the root of impurities and harm.

Signing at the end of Nisan 5771.

Nissim Karelitz

Perhaps my reading skills are lacking, but do you see any exemption for the Yated (which, I believe is a weekly publication)?

On a side note, it looks like Mishpacha is "officially" out.  

UPDATED (5/6 3PM EDT):  Well, now, that's embarrassing.  S. informs me that the Yated is a daily and not a weekly and hence not included in the above referenced statement.  There goes the point of the post.  My apologies to the Yated for the error.

The Wolf

The Ami Magazine Article About Orthopraxy

Yes, I saw it, and I do have some things to say about it, but it may have to wait until Sunday or perhaps until after Yom Tov.  I've got a crunch of real work and school work at the moment and can't really do justice to this article on the fly.

If you haven't read it yet, you can find it here.

The Wolf

For This You Can't Sign Your Name?

There was a recent post on Matzav about having a positive attitude regarding food on Pesach. In it, the author points out how people often complain (whether rightly or wrongly) about Pesach food and that, perhaps, we can have a better attitude about it.

This is a concept that I think all of us can get behind.  It's completely non-controversial.  And yet, the author chose to sign only his initials.  He didn't choose to actually put his name on the piece.  And that makes me wonder... have we gotten to the point where people are even afraid to speak up on non-controversial subjects?

I'm well aware that, when it comes to this, I fall into the category of "those who live in glass houses...".  But at least *some* of what I write is controversial in some circles.  This gentleman's post was completely non-controversial - and yet, he couldn't sign his name to it.

The Wolf

Is Our Torah The Exact Same As Moshe's?

In a comment on my previous post, Nate pointed to an article on Rabbi Dovid Gottlieb's website concerning the accuracy of our present-day Torahs.  The article asserts that the Torah that we have today is letter-for-letter* the same as the Torah that God gave to Moshe on Mt. Sinai.  Nate then followed the link with the words "UNDISPUTED AND 100% TRUTH."   Sadly, the point is not undisputed nor is it 100% truth.

The article actually originated on Aish HaTorah's website and can be read here.  The main points of the article are as follows:

• Moshe wrote the Torah.
• This Torah (or, perhaps later on, others based on this Torah scroll) were kept in the Bais HaMikdash as a model and standard.
• New Torah scrolls that were written would be checked against this Torah.
• Sofrim (scribes) were very careful not to add/delete/change anything since any change makes a Sefer Torah invalid.
• The Torah has a built-in "security system" that prevents invalid Torahs from being used.
• The end result is that, as of today, the only variant that exists of the Torah is the Yemenite Torah, which has nine minor spelling variations  from the "standard" version.  These variations are all minor spelling differences (as British spelling differs from American spelling) and do not change the meanings of any words.  Otherwise, every Torah we use today is the same letter-for-letter that God gave to Moshe.
• This is very impressive because, compared with the Christian Bible (what is commonly called "The New Testament") the Torah is remarkably stable.  The Christian Bible has well over 200,000 variant letters.  We have nine.

Therefore, you can rely, with a high degree of confidence, that the Torah that we have today is *exactly* the same as the one that Moshe left for us at the end of his life.

The problem with all this is that most of those points are either exaggerations or just plain wrong.  Let's go through these points and examine them.

I'm going to grant the author of the article the first two points as given.  If we don't agree that Moshe wrote the Torah, then there is really no point in the rest of the article.  I am also going to assume that he did, in fact, leave a Torah as a standard.

However, it becomes clear that, at some point, that standard became corrupted.  For example, consider the event recounted in Meseches Sofrim.  In it, Reish Lakish recounts that three Sifrei Torah were found in the Bais HaMikdash:

One book was called "The Ma'on Book."  The reason it was so called was because Devraim 33:27 started out with the word "Ma'on."  In the other two, it started out with the word "M'onah."

The second book was called "The Zatutei Book."  It was so called because in it, the text of Sh'mos 24:5 says "And he sent to the  'Zatutei' (young men) of the Children of Israel..."  In the other two books, the word "Na'arei" replaced "Zatutei."

The third book was called the "Hee Book."  It was so called because it had one set of variant spellings of the word Hee in Hebrew, while the other two had a different set of spellings**.

In each case, in establishing the correct reading, the Sages followed the majority.  They rejected the reading of "Ma'on" and instituted "M'onah."  They rejected the reading of "Zatutei" and instituted "Na'arei."  The rejected the spellings in the Hee Book and accepted the spellings in the other two books.  Those readings became the standard and, indeed, are in our Sifrei Torah today.

There are several points that need to be made about this story.

• The first point to be made is that there was no single model text that could be used to check against.  Indeed, these three texts *were* the model texts that were used.  These were the Sifrei Torah that were found in the Temple Courtyard.  If there was an alternate authoritative text, the Sages could simply have consulted it to determine the correct text for each of the three cases.  The sad fact, however, is that there was no single authoritative text to compare these to -- these *were* the authoritative texts -- and now they were at variance with one another.  As a result, the Sages had to establish the correct text and, in each case, went with the majority.

• The second point to be made from this story is that the so-called "built-in security system" failed... and failed miserably.  It's one thing if an error creeps into a text in a backwater shul somewhere where perhaps only a few people were even capable of reading the sefer and where, if an error is found in the book, it could be isolated.  This, however, was an entirely different matter.  Here, textual variants are showing up in the model texts themselves.  And, I'd bet dollars to donuts, that these variants didn't just show up in only these three books.  I highly doubt the Sages woke up one morning and decided to check the Temple scrolls against each other just for the heck of it.  I'd be willing to bet that they were getting numerous reports of variant readings and needed to investigate.  And, furthermore, I'd be willing to bet that after an informal survey of the scrolls in their own personal libraries and in the shuls and study halls in Jerusalem (which were probably used on a daily basis), they found variant readings too -- otherwise, why start comparing the Temple scrolls against each other?  So, they went to the Temple to get the authoritative reading, and found that even there, there was no single text.  Clearly, when the authoritative texts have variants, the "security system" has failed.

• The third, and perhaps most startling point to be made is this -- at the end of the story, we find that *none* of the three authoritative model texts was kosher!  Every single one of them was invalid.  One had a variant reading in Devarim, one had a variant in Sh'mos and one had variants in the spelling of Hu/Hee.  But *none* of the three had the text that we have today!  In other words, in the end, the standard text that we have today was based on a combination of these three texts.

You might think that this settled the matter and that, at least, from this point onward, we would have a unified standard text.  Alas, such was not the case.  There are several places in the Talmud where the Gemara quotes a different text than the one we have.  One of the more famous examples is the Gemara in Sanhedrin where one of the three reading of the word "Totafos" has an extra vav -- and that extra vav is used to help determine that there are four compartments in the Tefillin Shel Rosh.  However, in the end, even the Gemara attests to the fact that we don't necessarily have accurate spellings for all the words in the Torah.  The Gemara states that we are not expert in chasser and malei (i.e. words that have "extra" letters to represent vowels).

The Rambam, in the 12th century, famously went to view the bible today knows as the Aleppo Codex (also known as the Kesser Aram Tzovah), to determine the standard text and spacings in the Torah scrolls.  It should be noted that, obviously, the Rambam did not have a scroll at his disposal which he considered authoritative enough.

Likewise, the Rav Mair HeLeivi Abulafia (13th century) writes in the preface to his work Mesores Siyug L'Torah  that in his day there were doubts as to the correct reading.  He, like the Sages in the Temple, relied on a "majority rules" principle to establish the text which he published in his sefer.  Likewise, Yaakov ben Chayim (early 16th century), who published the first edition of the Mikraos Gedolos, noted that there were variant readings in his day.  Nonetheless, with the adoption of the Mikraos Gedolos and the invention of the printing press, a standard text was finally adopted.

But even that's not the end of the matter.  As noted above, the Yemenites have a slightly different Torah than we do.  Although the author claims that the differences are only spelling there is at least one case where the spelling does change the meaning of a word (from a singular to a plural).  Furthermore, even setting aside the Yemenite Torahs, there is still at least one textual variant extant today -- the final letter of the word "Dakah" in Devarim 23:2 is spelled in some Sifrei Torah with an aleph and in others with a Heh.  But aside from these few cases, the text that we (finally) have today has been standardized.

The article tries to make the case that we can authoritatively state that our Torahs are accurate (vis a vis the Torah gave to Moshe) because of the traditions of the scribes.  For example, the article makes the point that there was a Torah in Jerusalem that was used as the model against which others were judged.  We've already seen that the model wasn't always accurate either, but let's put that point aside for the moment and assume, for the sake of argument, that the model is 100% accurate.  There are still several assumptions that are being made by the author of the article that are not, in fact, in evidence:

The first point to be made is that a model text is only good if it's actually used.  There is no indication anywhere that in the centuries after Moshe that scribes and other people *routinely* brought their Torah scrolls to Jerusalem to check them against the model.  It's not very difficult to see how an error can creep into a sefer and stay there.  Likewise, it's not too difficult to see how an inaccurate version can be copied to other texts.  In a place where there aren't very many Sifrei Torah circulating about (as you can imagine would be the situation in Israel between the time of Joshua and the Exile), it's very easy for an inaccurate text to be copied to another one.

Just consider the three variant scrolls that were eventually found in the Temple.  Do you think that they were first scrolls to have those variations?  Or is it more likely that they were copied from other variant scrolls?  I would argue the latter -- especially if you're also going to posit that scribes were generally very careful with their work.

Another assumption that is being made by the author is that the laws regarding the writing of a Sefer Torah (i.e. pronouncing each word out loud before writing, not writing by heart, etc.) were always the same as they are today AND that those laws were universally observed.  Neither of those (and certainly not in latter) can be said to be true 100% of the time.  It's certainly not inconceivable that there might have been scribes who were less than scrupulous with their work and did, indeed, introduce errors into their work.

Lastly, the author tries to make the comparison between the accuracy of our Torahs and the Christian Bible.  He states that there are only nine spelling variants extant today, while showing that there are thousands of variants of the Christian Bible.

I'm not an expert in the Christian Bible, so I can't speak to that point directly.  But what I do know is that the author is making a false comparison.  The author, in making his point, is outright dismissing any known variant text to our Bible (Yemenite Torahs excepted).  He's conveniently forgetting that there are variations of our text that do exist -- and they're still around today.  The Samaritan Bible, the Septiguant, the Dead Sea Scrolls, et al are all still extant and can be read to this very day.  By forgetting them (or, more likely dismissing them), the author is engaging in a form of the "No True Scotsman" fallacy.  In short, he's claiming the to reject any variants he doesn't like as non-authoritative while, at the same time, holding Christians to task for all their variants.

Of course, Nate makes the very same error when he says "UNDISPUTED" regarding the article.  What he means is "undisputed by anyone who agrees with it," which, again, is a form of the No True Scotsman fallacy. But it's pretty clear that it can, indeed be disputed whether or not the Torah text we have today is a letter-for-letter copy of Moshe's.

The Wolf



* The author of the article does acknowledge that the Yemenite Torahs are different than ours in nine places.

** In later writings, the word "Hee" is written Hey-Yud-Aleph.  However, in the Torah, it is often spelled Hey-Vuv-Aleph, the same as the word "Hu."  However, there are a number of places where the Torah uses the first spelling.  The differences between the scrolls was in where the exceptional spelling was used.

Expunging the Kool Aid

"Drinking the Kool Aid" is a popular metaphor for someone who simply accepts something wholeheartedly without thinking critically about it.  The origin of the metaphor comes from the People's Temple incident in Guyana, where over 900 people committed suicide by drinking Flavor-Aid mixed with cyanide at the behest of Jim Jones, the cult's leader.

Interestingly, at one time I was a Kool-Aid drinker as well.  In my late teens, I went through a period of about a year where I started accepting everything without question.  Young earth creationism?  Check.  The absolute historicity of every midrash?  check.  The notion that Jewish philosophy, culture and practice (with the exception of things like sacrifices and the like) have been unchanged since Sinai?  Check.  The notion that everything in the Gemara is Torah MiSinai?  Check.  Belief in an unbroken and completely intact and unchanged oral tradition passed down from generation to generation to generation?  Check.  And on and on.

Most people who go from Kool-Aid drinker to critical thinker (note that I did NOT say skeptic) arrive at the Kool-Aid stage in one of two ways:  a) they're born into it or b) they become ba'alei teshuva and just want to believe everything about their new-found spirituality.  I didn't take either of those paths.   I was not born frum -- I became frum (with my mother) at about age ten.  During high school, I was a skeptic (even if I wasn't a critical thinker).  Yet, about the time I turned eighteen, I began to drink the Kool-Aid.  A Rav Avigdor Miller book could often be found in my hands.  I could be found discussing and defending Judaism's objections to evolution, natural history, cosmology and the like.  I studied and regurgitated all the fallacious arguments, bad facts and mistaken notions.  I was never much of an evangelist, but if anyone wanted to discuss it, I was there to discuss and defend.

To this day, I can't tell you why I began drinking the Kool Aid.  While I tried to (and to some extent, succeeded) in internalizing it on an intellectual level, I did not "frum out," as the saying goes.  While I sometimes wore a hat/jacket, I by no means made it a requirement.  I sometimes missed davening.  I wasn't found learning every minute of the day that wasn't otherwise occupied, and so on.  But I did accept, without much critical thought, much of the anti-scientific dogma of the subculture that I was immersed in.

At some point, however, I began thinking critically.  I began to look at and evaluate arguments.  I learned to evaluate and weigh evidence.  I began to learn to spot things such as logical fallacies, poor reasoning and just plain silliness.  I began to consider not only the dogma of Orthodox Judaism, but the context in which that dogma was created.  I began to question and probe into the things I was taught, and discover whether the knowledge I had accumulated over the years (and the observations that I made with my own senses) affirmed, contradicted or were silent about those teachings.  

Over the years, as I began thinking more and more, I began adjusting my beliefs.  I reasoned out a version of old earth creationism that was consistent with both B'raishis (IMHO) and with contemporary scientific thought (again, IMHO).  I began exploring history not solely through writings that were made hundreds (or thousands) of years after the fact, but began to consider history through both historical and contemporaneous accounts.  I began to understand that not everything that is purported to be sacred writ *must* be viewed in the absolute, but also has to be put into its proper historical and cultural context.  I began to view our Sages not as simply great figures who grew up in a societal, political and emotional vacuum who were immune to the outside world, but as people who, as great as they were, were at least partly a product of the times, places and cultures in which they lived.  

It’s been a long journey -- one that is still ongoing and, with God’s help, will go on as long as I live.  I’ve slowly begun to make a change to my learning habits -- I’m still learning Torah, but I’ve also begun learning *about* the Torah -- something that was lacking in my previous education and, I would not be surprised to find, is missing in a lot of people’s education.  I’ve begun to pay more attention to not only Tanach, Mishna, Gemara and the like, but also the historical and cultural background upon which they were created.  I’ve come to look at not only learning the halacha, but viewing that halacha as a product of a halachic process that caused it to come into being.  I believe that the Torah has to be more than what is simply printed on the page -- it also has to include how the page came to be -- and in the vast, vast majority of cases, the story of how that page came to be is far, far more complicated than “God said it to Moshe on Sinai.”


I know that there are some who are reading this who would say that what I am engaging in is dangerous and forbidden.  They would like to tell me that such things may lead one away from whatever “pure” hashkafah that they are espousing.  They may try to tell me that context and background are unimportant or, worse, irrelevant.  They may believe that our great leaders and sages grew up in a “social vacuum,” unaffected by their time, place and culture and that their halachic, philosophic and other opinions are absolutely true across all times, places and cultures.  They may believe that if Chazal, Rashi, the Rambam, Rabbeinu Asher, the Vilna Gaon or any other “sage of the canon” says something that it must be true and that any critical thought about their statements is tantamount to a slap in the face of those great sages.  They equate critical argument with impertinence, respectful disagreement with insolence and a contrary opinion with disrespect.

I disagree.  I believe one can have the utmost respect for someone and yet disagree with them.  I believe that it’s possible that things that have been said and accepted in the past may no longer be applicable to our current times, places and cultures.  I’m not saying that halacha has to change because of that, mind you, but it should be recognized that such changes and obsolescence* has taken place.  A necessary corollary of this is that I’ve come to believe that not everything that a sage says is necessarily sacrosanct.  Like anything else, it has to be evaluated in terms of its message, historical context and the like.  In short, I no longer take anything as irrefutable dogma simply on someone’s say so.  That’s is not all to say that there are no irrefutable dogmas, universal truths or articles of faith -- but it is important to be able to make a distinction between a true article of faith, a halachic ruling that may or may not apply to our current situation, a midrash which may or may not be historically true, or a simple, personal observation of a sage.  Lumping them all together as inviolate “Torah” does a great disservice to both the Torah and to those sages.  But to be able to do make these distinctions, you need to begin to think critically about what you’re learning.  You need to learn not to blindly accept everything within the canon as absolute truth.  In short, to do this, you need to stop drinking the Kool Aid -- and that's what I've been doing.  I've spent a long time expunging the Kool Aid that I built up in my system over the years -- and I believe that I am, today, a healthier person and a better Jew for it.

The Wolf

* I don’t mean “obsolescence” in terms of “should be discarded” but in terms of not currently applicable.  In this context, the halacha of egla arufa, for example, would be termed as “obsolete,” but I am not, God forbid, suggesting that it be excised from the Torah or no longer studied.  Likewise, it should be (and widely is) recognized that the reasons behind the institution of the second day of Yom Tov are obsolete... but again, I am not advocating changing the halacha to eliminate that second day.