Christian Quote Watch: Pslams 40:2

I saw a t-shirt on the bus today with a big cross on it and this sentence: “Let him give you a hand.” It attributed the quote to Pslam 40, verse 2. I looked it up. In fact, the verse this was attributed to says:

קַוּה קִוִּיתִי יהוה וַיֵּט אֵלַי וַיִּשְׁמַע שַׁוְעָתִי

JPS gives is a rather different translation:

“I put my hope in the Lord;
He inclined toward me,
and heeded my cry.”

I’m totally baffled in the face of the rather succinct, but wholly unrelated version I saw on the bus today.

Shabat Shalom.

Lone Star Sidur Project – Eilu D’varim, part II

First, an update on Sidur Eilu D’vareinu, the sidur that I have been working on since June: Finals over, I am now deep in the throes of draft five. Many changes are afoot, due largely in part to the serious thought I have forced myself to put into writing through the Lone Star Sidur Project.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the portion of Shacharit that deals with Torah study. I determined at some point that I would examine the actual texts that we are intended to study in this section in their natural habitat. The quote from Torah? Check. It’s good. The quote from Mishnah? Check. Tov m’od. The one from Gemera? Hold the phone. Not so good.

As it turns out, this is not a quote! It is an amalgamation of the similar statements that two separate Rabbis make on page 127a (that’s 127a[4] for those of you playing along at home with your Schottenstein edition).

I suggest as a replacement, the two actual sayings of the Rabbis being “quoted” in the sidur:

שִׁשָּׁה דְבָרִים אָדָם אוֹכֵל פֵּרוֹתֵיהֶם בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה וְהַקּֽרֶן קַיּֽימֶת לוֹ לָעוֹלָם הַבָּא וְאֵֽלּוּ הֵן: הַכְנָסַת אוֹרְחִים, וּבִקּוּר חוֹלִים, וְעִיוּן תְּפִלָּה, וְהַשְׁכָּמַת בֵּית הַמִּדְרָשׁ, וְהַמְגַדֵּל בָּנָיו לְתַלְמוּד תּוֹרָה, וְהַדָּן אֶת חֲבֵרוֹ לְכַף זְכוּת.
אֵלּוּ דְבָרִים שֶׁאָדָם עוֹשֶׂה אוֹתָם וְאוֹכֵל פֵּרוֹתֵיהֶם בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה וְהַקּֽרֶן קַיֶּימֶת לוֹ לָעוֹלָם הַבָּא וְאֵֽלּוּ הֵן: כִּבּוּד אָב וָאֵם, וּגְמִילוּת חֲסָדִים, וַהֲבָאַת שָׁלוֹם שֶׁבֵּין אָדָם לַחֲבֵרוֹ, וְתַלְמוּד תּוֹרָה כְּנֽגֶד כֻּלָּם.

These are six things, the fruits of which a man may enjoy in this world, but the principal reward for which remains in the world to come: Welcoming the stranger, visiting the sick, concentrated prayer, rising early to visit the house of study, and raising children learned in Torah, and judging a friend fairly.
These are things, which a man does, the fruits of which a man may enjoy in this world, but the principal reward for which remains in the world to come: Respecting one’s father and mother, acts of kindness, bringing peace between a man and his friend, but the study of Torah is equal to all of these.

Lone Star Sidur Project – Kadish

Today’s examination of the four forms of Kadish and their place and purpose in the service is a departure of sorts from the norm for a Lone Star Sidur Project post. I say this because I’m not offering the text of any form of Kadish because I won’t be referring heavily to the content of Kadish, but more to its structural purpose and role in services. I assume that most people reading this are familiar with Kadish anyway. If you are not familiar with it, Google it. It’s out there. Much of this post has changed since it was first posted due to the comments of readers.

Kadish comes in four forms. It’s most well-known is Kadish Yatom, which, literally translated, is the Orphan’s Kadish, but is more commonly called Mourner’s Kadish. Kadish Yatom is relatively the same size as Kadish Shalem, but some of the ending lines are different. Kadish Yatom does not refer specifically to death. Take from that what you will.

Kadish Shalem, which means Whole Kadish, is used during services to mark major transitions between distinct service sections.

The Chatzi Kadish is a shortened form of Kadish Shalem. It is used to mark minor transitions between service sections.

Kadish D’rabanan is a version of Kadish containing an extended series of lines praying for the good fortune of and praising teachers and students of Torah. It is said upon completing a study session, marking the end of that session, with the understanding that another study session will be had in the future. In the service, it appears in a variety of different places, depending on the choices of individual sidur editors.

All forms of Kadish are written predominantly in Aramaic and are meant to be said only in the presence of a minyan because Kadish is considered a specifically public form of praise.

Growing up with Gates of Prayer, I was only aware of the existence of Chatzi Kadish and Kadish Yatom. GOP’s approach to utilizing Kadish is extremely limited, but consistent. Chatzi Kadish, which GOP translates “Reader’s Kadish” (twenty bucks to anyone who can explain that translation to me!), appears once in every morning and evening service. In morning services it appears in one of its places between P’sukei D’zimrah and Sh’ma Uvirchoteihah. In the evening, it appears between what passes for Kabalat Shabat in GOP and Sh’ma Uvirchoteihah. Kadish Yatom appears at the end of every service. GOP makes no use of Kadish Shalem of Kadish D’rabanan at all.

Mishkan T’filah follows GOP’s example with one exception. MK has reintroduced Kadish D’rabanan. MK’s editors have elected to slip KD in between Morning Blessings and P’sukei D’zimrah. Because MK has reordered the Morning Blessings such that the section on study comes last, KD then serves also in the way that a Chatzi Kadish might, marking the minor transition from Morning Blessings to P’sukei D’zimrah. Although I like the traditional idea of using KD to conclude the Torah study section of Morning Blessings and I like the idea of using a Kadish to divide Morning Blessings from P’sukei D’zimrah, I dislike that MK has combined these two purposes into one by needlessly reordering the Morning Blessings. Haavodah Shebalev (Israeli Reform) follows MK without reordering the Morning Blessings.

The traditional locations of Kadish make little sense to me. Chatzi Kadish is supposed to appear at points of minor transition, yet it only appears at the transitions from P’sukei D’zimrah to Sh’ma Uvirchoteihah, before Maftir, and between the Torah service and Musaf. Kadish Shalem ought to appear at the site of a major transition, yet it only appears at the transition from Shacharit to Torah service and from Musaf to concluding prayers. I am mostly confounded by what seems to be an undefined notion of what major and minor transition points are.

I would keep Kadish mostly in its traditional places, with a few exceptions. I would remove entirely the notion of doing one before Maftir. Absolutely no transition is going there. That is simply the middle of the Torah service and it makes no sense. I would also follow MK’s idea of inserting a Kadish D’rabanan after the study section of the Birchot Hashachar.

Lone Star Sidur Project – Birkat Torah & Eilu D’varim

[EDITED. This has been edited due to a massive correction made by David Singer in his comment on this post.]

After a little Yom Hodu hiatus, I am back to my litrugical self with the third part of my series, the Lone Star Sidur Project. Today I examine the Torah section of the Birchot Hashachar, the Morning Blessings. The traditional text of the section follows:

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר קִדְּשָׁנוּ בְּמִצְוֹתָיו, וְצִוָּנוּ לַעֲסוֹק בְּדִבְרֵי תוֹרָה.

Bless you, Adonai, our God, King of the world, for you have sanctified us through your commandments and commanded us to engross in words of Torah.

וְהַעֲרֶב נָא יְיָ אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ אֶת דִּבְרֵי תוֹרָתְךָ בְּפִֽינוּ וּבְפִי עַמְּךָ בֵּית יִשְׂרָאֵל, וְנִהְיֶה אֲנַחְנוּ וְצֶאֱצָאֵינוּ וְצֶאֱצָאֵי עַמְּךָ בֵּית יִשְׂרָאֵל כֻּלָּֽנוּ יוֹדְעֵי שְׁמֶךָ וְלוֹמְדֵי תוֹרָתֶֽךָ לִשְׁמָהּ. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, הַמְלַמֵּד תּוֹרָה לְעַמּוֹ יִשְׂרָאֵל.

Please, Adonai, our God, sweeten the words of your Torah in our mouths and in the mouths of your people, the House of Israel. May we and our children and our children’s children, your people, the House of Israel–all of us–know your name and study your Torah for its own sake. Bless your, Adonai, our God, teacher of Torah to your people, Israel.

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר בָּחַר בָּֽנוּ מִכָּל הָעַמִּים, וְנָתַן לָֽנוּ אֶת תּוֹרָתוֹ. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, נוֹתֵן הַתּוֹרָה.

Bless you, Adonai, our God, King of the world, for you chose us from amongst all the peoples and gave us your Torah. Bless you, Adonai, giver of Torah.

יְבָרֶכְךְ יְיָ וְיִשְׁמְרֶךָ. יָאֵר יְיָ פָּנָיו אֵלֶֽיךָ וִיחֻנֶּךָּ. יִשָּׂא יְיָ פָּנָיו אֵלֶיךָ וְיָשֵׂם לְךָ שָׁלוֹם.

May God bless you and keep you. May God’s face shine on you be gracious to you. May God turn his face to you and place peace upon you.

אֵלּוּ דְבָרִים שֶׁאֵין לָהֶם שִׁעוּר: הַפֵּאָה וְהַבִּכּוּרִים וְהָרַאְיוֹן וּגְמִילוּת חֲסָדִים וְתַלְמוּד תּוֹרָה.

These things have no measure: The corners of the field, visiting the sick, pilgrimage, acts of loving kindness, and study of Torah.

אֵלּוּ דְבָרִים שֶׁאָדָם אוֹכֵל פֵּרוֹתֵיהֶם בָּעוֹלָם הַזֶּה וְהַקֶּֽרֶן קַיֶּמֶת לוֹ לָעוֹלָם הַבָּא, וְאֵלּוּ הֵן: כִּבּוּד אָב וָאֵם, וּגְמִילוּת חֲסָדִים, וְהַשְׁכָּמַת בֵּית הַמִּדְרָשׁ שַׁחֲרִית וְעַרְבִית, וְהַכְנָסַת אוֹרְחִים, וּבִקּוּר חוֹלִים, וְהַכְנָסַת כַּלָּה, וּלְוָיַת הַמֵּת, וְעִיוּן תְּפִלָּה, וַהֲבָאַת שָׁלוֹם בֵּין אָדָם לַחֲבֵרוֹ, וְתַלְמוּד תּוֹרָה כְּנֶגֶד כֻּלָּם.

These are things one is rewarded for in this life, but for which the principal reward is in the world to come: Honoring father and mother, acts of loving kindness, visiting the house of study morning and night, welcoming the stranger, visiting the sick, providing for a bride, accompanying the dead, deep prayer, making peace between a man and his friend, and Torah study is equal to all of these.

As a kid going to services and learning about liturgy from Gates of Prayer, I totally misinterpreted this whole section. Gates of Prayer shortened the section by combining the opening line of the first “eilu d’varim” paragraph with first line of the second so that it read “Eilu d’varim sh’ein lahem shiur, she’adam ocheil peroteihem ba’olam hazeh v’hakeren kayemet lo l’olam haba, v’eilu hein.” Then it translated the whole line as “These are the obligations without measure, whose reward, too, is without measure.” They excise the Priestly Blessing (y’varech’cha…) and the body of the first section entirely and keep to the solidly “ethical commandments”-oriented second section. GOP also loses the blessing for before the reading of Torah (…bachar banu…).

Because of this goofy chopping and translating, I assumed as a kid that this section was a liturgical poem listing thing, which it is limitlessly good to do. Because of this faulty assumption, I always wondered why the section is preceded by a blessing for Torah study.

As it turns out, the entire section, both eilu d’varims and the blessing over Torah study, is part of the larger framework of the morning blessings, a series of prayers and blessings about the morning routine. The rabbis who constructed the section couldn’t imagine a morning without a little study, so they inserted this section. It begins with the appropriate blessing for study, followed by the blessing for reading Torah, followed by a passage from Torah (from Bamidbar 6), followed by our two eilu d’varim paragraphs. The first eilu d’varim is from the Mishnah, Peah 1:1. The second is from the Gemara, Shabat 127a. The three passages are meant to be said daily to fulfill a minimum of the daily obligation to engage in study.

Why, then, does GOP feel the need to truncate it so? As such, it is not actually any particular text and it is thus no longer possible to seriously study the selection as though it is a selection of Torah. Mishkan T’fillah follows GOP’s example.

Haavodah Shebalev (Israeli Reform) chops the intro down considerably as well, opting only for the blessing for reading Torah, which I dislike because the focus of the section is study. If that is the case, should the appropriate blessing for study not be said? HS then proceeds with the same quotes from Mishna and Gemara, preceded by a greatly expanded version of the quote from Bamidbar.

Siddur Sim Shalom and Siddur Eit Ratzon take approaches that I find highly preferable to the Reform movment’s consistent approach of extreme and unjustifiable truncation.

SS presents the entire section in it’s traditional form, no deletions, and one addition. Between the selection from Bamidbar (y’varech’cha…) and the selection from Peah (the first of the two eilu d’varim selections), SS adds a paragraph of text from Vayikra 19, part of the famous K’doshim Tih’yu passage.

SER takes SS’s approach a step further, while also embracing the Reform tradition of deletion. SER includes as an introduction to the section only the blessing for Torah study (…la’asok b‘divrei Torah), excluding the introductory passage beginning “V’ha’arev na…” as well as the blessing for reading Torah (…bachar banu…). SER then deletes the second eilu d’varim passage (Shabat 127a), while it adds passages from D’varim 6, Hoshea 2, Vayikra 19, Michah 6, and D’varim 16.

While I appreciate Joe Rosenstein’s attempt to give folks a wider variety of texts for study and I take no issue with any of his particular additions I do take issue with the exclusion of two of three texts originally included in the section for study.

And now on to what I do like. I would keep most of the introductory material, but I would exclude the blessing for reading Torah (…bachar banu…). I realize that it is there because at that point we are about to read a small selection from Torah, but there are many other passages of Torah in the sidur, which apparently do not require this blessing before they can be read. In a perfect world I would correct this by removing that brachah.

I see the value in SS’s and SER’s approach of adding a few additional passages for study, but I would hesitate to do so. Though the idea is that we should study these passages each morning, that is not happening. We chant them and pass them by without giving them any thought, much less consideration serious enough that I would consider it study. When we start actually studying these three passages and get tired of them, we can think about putting in new ones.

Condi’s Astonishing Effect on Hebrew Vocabulary

I have learned the following tidbit from NPR and Chicago Public Radio’s “Wait, Wait… Don’t Tell Me!”

Apparently, Condaleeza Rice has become such a frequent visitor to Israel in recent years, that Israeli government officials have adopted a new slang term, l’kandel. I’m not sure how the conjugate this. The radio show only noted how to pronounce the infinitive. This word is apparently derived from Condi’s name is used to refer to the act of shuffling about between various meetings, saying many things, getting nothing done.

Aside from the surface humor of this, I’m also amused by the fact that no word for this already existed in the Israeli political lexicon. I’m amazed frankly.

A little update on the life of the Lone Star of Jersey

This blog had a record number of page views on November 5th: 56. Yesterday a new record was set: 88.

As of 8:30 this morning, I am registered for my classes for next semester:
Research Writing
Intro to Eastern Religions
Music of World Religions
Modern Hebrew II
Biological Anthropology

As of two weeks I have finally realized what I should have known since February. With regards to that, if you know what I’m talking about, I think I’m finally all better.

LONE STAR SIDUR PROJECT – Elohai N’shamah – אלהי נשמה

This discussion of Elohai N’shamah is part of my ongoing project, the Lone Star Sidur Project.———-

What follows is the traditional text of Elohai N’shamah. Elohai N’shamah is part of the routine of morning blessings which Jews originally went through in their homes, but was later incorporated into the service as the Morning Blessings—Birchot Hashachar—ברכות השחר section of the service.

אֱלֹהַי, נְשָׁמָה שֶׁנָּתַֽתָּ בִּי טְהוֹרָה הִיא. אַתָּה בְרָאתָהּ, אַתָּה יְצַרְתָּהּ, אַתָּה נְפַחְתָּהּ בִּי, וְאַתָּה מְשַׁמְּרָהּ בְּקִרְבִּי, וְאַתָּה עָתִיד לִטְּלָהּ מִמֶּֽנִּי, וּלְהַחֲזִירָהּ בִּי לֶעָתִיד לָבוֹא. כָּל זְמַן שֶׁהַנְּשָׁמָה בְקִרְבִּי, מוֹדֶה אֲנִי לְפָנֶֽיךָ, יְיָ אֱלֹהַי וֵאלֹהֵי אֲבוֹתַי, רִבּוֹן כָּל הַמַּעֲשִׂים, אֲדוֹן כָּל הַנְּשָׁמוֹת. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ, הַמַּחֲזִיר נְשָׁמוֹת לִפְגָרִים מֵתִים.

My God, the soul that you have given me is pure. You created it, you formed it, you breathed it into me, and you guard it within me. And in the future, you will take it from me and give it back to me in the future to come. All the time that the soul is within me, I thank you, Adonai, My God, and God of my fathers, Sovereign of creation, Lord of all Souls. Blessed are You, Adonai, who returns souls to dead bodies.

I’ll get the easy, mostly semantic stuff out of the way first. Since this is in the first person, it needs to be gender sensitive-ized so that women can say it in a grammatically correct way. This is easy. We offer as options the words modeh and modah. Also, because God is the god of my fathers and my mothers, we add, in the second to the last sentence, the word v’imotai after the word avotai so that our forebears are described accurately.

Now, to the meat. Two parts of this passage have traditionally bothered progressive Jews. The first is “And in the future, you will take it from me and give it back to me in the future to come” and the second is “…who returns souls to dead bodies.”

The second is the easiest to deal with for me, so I’ll discuss that first. As you may know if you know me at all or as you may know from reading the Policy of Content, you know that I have no tolerance for the notion of the resurrection. Reform liturgy has traditionally shared this intolerance with me, and as such has created a few approaches to dealing with this line. The most common is the approach of the official Movement publications, beginning with Gates of Prayer. Gates of Prayer consistently removed such references to resurrection of the dead both here and in G’vurot. Chaim Stern’s alternative in GOP is “…asher b’yado nefesh kol chai v’ruach kol b’sar ish,” which means “…in whose hand are the souls of all the living and the spirit of all the flesh of Man.” Ha’avodah Shebalev, the Israeli Reform sidur follows this example. Siddur Eit Ratzon, Joe Rosenstein’s chavurah sidur always the maverick has the line replaced with “ham’chayeh n’shamot b’chol yom,” meaning “…who revives our souls every day.” In a typical example of the inconsistency of Mishkan Tefillah, GOP’s successor, Frishman and her liturgical cohort have restored resurrection of the dead as an option in G’vurot, but not here in Elohai N’shamah where MT maintains Stern’s closing line. I’m especially peeved by this aspect of MT because I believe that the original removal was called for in G’vurot, but that the initial assumption that led to the replacement of the final line of Elohai N’shamah was completely mistaken.

When Elohai N’shamah praises God for restoring souls to dead bodies, we are not praising God for a future resurrection of the dead, but for the daily awareness we experience upon waking. The Talmud teaches us that sleep is a fraction of death. Take that how you will, but if that is the case then sleep can be equated with death. Many Jews over the centuries have believed that while we are asleep, our souls are with God. If this is the case, then it makes sense for Elohai N’shamah, a morning prayer said upon waking, to refer to God’s power to awaken us with our souls returned to our bodies. Though I like the approach of Eit Ratzon over the Reform Movement approach, which I find to be overly flowery and unnecessarily long, in the end I would make no change to this final line of Elohai N’shamah.

The first trouble spot that I mentioned is more complicated for me. GOP and MT ignore it, exclude it from their text and move on. According to my Policy of Positive Replacement and Alteration, I cannot do this. I must decide what, if not this, I do believe and compose new text to express that.

What the line being excluded by the upper case “R” Reform sidurim remove is this: “וְאַתָּה עָתִיד לִטְּלָהּ מִמֶּֽנִּי, וּלְהַחֲזִירָהּ בִּי לֶעָתִיד לָבוֹא.,” which means “And in the future, you will take it from me and give it back to me in the future to come.” In fact, the only problem is after the comma in the Hebrew and after the second “and” in English. The first half of this statement is a truism. “And in the future you will take it from me” is equal to “Someday I’m going to die.” Were our Reform forebears in denial about this fact? No. What they were doing was sloppily cutting away at Elohai N’shamah without giving due though to what they were doing. So at the very least, we know that first half of this sentence will remain intact.

But what about the second half of the line? If I understand it correctly, it is. The entire sentence is equal to “One day I will die and you will take my soul back and later on, once Mashiach arrives and you resurrect the dead, you will put my soul back in my body.” Yes, I believe I will one day die. No I do not believe that death is a temporary status. Death is forever, folks. So what do I do with this line? My usual process for this sort of thing is trying to discover what, at its very root, is the concern that has prompted the ideology I disagree with and replacing it with my own response to the same problem. The root issue here is death. What happens when we die? This poses a huge problem for me because I really don’t have a good answer for this question. I know the problem the new line would need to address, but I have almost no opinion on how to address it.

To my knowledge, two alternatives have been proposed by progressive liturgists. One, courtesy of HSh, is to replace “…and give it back to me in the world to come” with “…l’chayei olam.” I don’t even know how to translate that, grammatically speaking. I know what the two words mean, but I can’t make it make sense, leads me to believe that it’s wishy-washy nonsense. Congrats HSh on trying, but no cigar on this one I’m afraid. Joe Rosenstein, however, has a much better idea. He proposes a parallel alternative in SER, which might be said instead of the traditional line, though both are presented to give options to a plurality of daveners. He suggests “…ul’hachazirah limkorah,” meaning “and return it [my soul] to its source.” The soul’s source is obviously God. I can get on board with Rosenstein’s line because it refers definitely to a belief about death, a rather generic belief about death, which I may kind of believe in.

I give you my version of Elohai N’shamah:

אֱלֹהַי, נְשָׁמָה שֶׁנָּתַֽתָּ בִּי טְהוֹרָה הִיא. אַתָּה בְרָאתָהּ, אַתָּה יְצַרְתָּהּ, אַתָּה נְפַחְתָּהּ בִּי, וְאַתָּה מְשַׁמְּרָהּ בְּקִרְבִּי, וְאַתָּה עָתִיד לִטְּלָהּ מִמֶּֽנִּי, וּלְהַחֲזִירָהּ לִמְקוּרָהּ. כָּל זְמַן שֶׁהַנְּשָׁמָה בְקִרְבִּי, מוֹדֶה אֲנִי לְפָנֶֽיךָ, אדוני אֱלֹהַי וֵאלֹהֵי אֲבוֹתַי וְאִמוּתַי, רִבּוֹן כָּל הַמַּעֲשִׂים, אֲדוֹן כָּל הַנְּשָׁמוֹת. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה אדוני, הַמַּחֲזִיר נְשָׁמוֹת לִפְגָרִים מֵתִים.

My God, the soul that you have given me is pure. You created it, you formed it, you breathed it into me, and you guard it within me. And in the future, you will take it from me and return it to its source. All the time that the soul is within me, I thank you, Adonai, My God, and God of my fathers, Sovereign of creation, Lord of all Souls. Blessed are You, Adonai, who returns souls to dead bodies.

Everyday Miracles – נסים בכל יום

First, some links for your Shabat amusement:

Shabat: Eisav Style

This is God.

Everyone else is posting links to this. Peer pressure is powerful.

———-

And now, the meat. All of the below ruminations are due in large part to Ben Zeidman, a student at HUC in Cincinnati. Ben first got me thinking about the content of Nisim B’chol Yom seriously this summer at Kutz. Information from his paper on the topic forms the factual backbone of this post. Anything that sounds like historical fact in this post is ripped off from the work Ben did on the subject.

During the beginning portion of every morning service is a section of 15 daily blessings. “Gates of Prayer and Mishkan Tefillah call [them] Nisim B’chol Yom—Everyday Miracles. There does not seem to be any evidence of this title for these prayers in any traditional siddurim, however given their text it is as good a name as any,” says Ben. In fact, Rabbi Chaim Stern, editor of GOP is known to have coined the term. In his later work, namely in Siddur Netivot Emunah, he redubbed them as “Birchot Yom Yom,” which he maneuvers into English as “Our Daily Blessings.” I prefer Stern’s first rendering of the title, which has passed into regular use in a number of other sidurim since then.

In an orthodox prayer book, one will find them rendered as they were said daily for centuries:

1. Blessed is God, King of the Universe, who gives the heart the wisdom to distinguish between day and night.
2. …who did not make me another nationality.
3. …did not make me a slave.
4. …did not make me a woman.
Instead of 4., women say:
…made me according to his will.
5. …opens the eyes of the blind.
6. …clothes the naked.
7. …frees the captives.
8. …straightens the bent.
9. …spreads the land over the waters.
10. …made for me all of my needs.
11. …strengthens the footsteps of males.
12. …girds Israel with strength.
13. …crowns Israel with glory.
14. …gives strength to the tired.
15. …removes sleep from the eyes and slumber from the eyelids.

Again, Ben: “Eleven of [the Nisim B’chol Yom] are found in Berakhot 60b, and three of them are found discussed in Menahot as well as in Tosefta Berakhot chapter six. The only blessing that is not of Talmudic origin is the fourteenth: gives strength to the tired.” Citing Nulman’s “Encyclopedia of Jewish Prayer,” Ben says, “It is not found in the Talmudic text, but some say that ‘this blessing must have been, without a doubt, in the early Talmudic version of tractate Berakhot.’” The eleven found in Brachot 60b are those written above with the exception of 2., 3., 4., and 14.

In Brachot, each one is said to be connected to a specific morning action during which the blessing is to be said. One is for awakening to the sound of the rooster, one is for putting on clothes, one is for standing up, etc. If the purpose of the section is to be grateful for the small things that allow each day to begin properly for each of us, then where did the three that interrupt the list towards the beginning come from” Namely, “…who did not make me another nationality,” “…did not make me a slave,” “…did not make me a woman” and the woman’s equivalent of the third of those, “…made me according to his will.” These three are the ones discussed in Menachot. They appear similarly to their present form with some differences between their Talmudic version and their current orthodox one, but that is irrelevant for my purposes here. These three were then inserted into the list of blessings from Brachot as a sort of daily identity statement, stating that “I am a Jew, I am free, and thank God I’m a man”—or, if you’re a woman—“and thank God for making me according to his will.”

From the beginning of Reform liturgy, many of these blessings have proved troublesome for Reform liturgists. I will here examine what troubles me and what my ideal version of Nisim B’chol Yom contains.

The first thing about Nisim B’chol Yom that often troubles Reform liturgists is the order that the blessing appear in and the number of blessings that appear. By the number, I don’t mean the quantity, but some liturgists have been tempted to excise particular blessings entirely without offering alternatives and without attempting to do small rewrites to make the blessing acceptable. For instance, GOP randomly reorders and excises; Haavodah Shebalev includes only eight of the 15 blessings; Siddur Netivot Emunah, Stern’s more recent sidur, includes a varying number in different places, seven at the most; Mishkan Tefillah includes 14 of the 15, reordering them drastically. Siddur Eit Ratzon is certainly the only sidur in my collection of progressive liturgies which leaves the list of 15 intact, with no shuffling of the order.

I prefer the approach taken by SER for a couple of reasons. I maintain the full list of 15 because I rather than simply tossing out that which troubles me, I want to reword it so that I am saying something similar, but which I feel comfortable saying. I maintain the order because I don’t see a need to mess with that. Some have reordered them seeing them as being divided into two or three categories. MT takes this approach. MT places all the morning activity blessings first, followed by the three identity blessings, followed by the two blessings which refer to God’s bolstering of Am Yisrael. Though I appreciate their attempt to chunk things perhaps more logically, I would rather seek meaning in the hard-to-understand order. The authors of MT were perhaps perplexed by the interruption of the morning routine blessings by the identity blessings. I would argue that this is no interruption. The first blessing is for simply waking up. The next thing one does after waking up is ascertain one’s surroundings. Ever woken up in a hotel room and been briefly surprised by your surroundings? There may also be a brief recognition of identity upon waking. Imagine how frightening it would be to wake up one day unable to identify a part of one’s identity. We are thankful that we can awaken with such recognition, hence the placement in the list right after waking up.

Now that I’ve established my preference for a complete Nisim B’chol Yom in its traditional order, we’ll move on to changes I would make in the content of particular blessings in the list. Although I’ve justified the placement of the identity blessings, I would change two of them, but most progressive liturgies are bothered by all three. In an attempt to reframe the first two in positive terms, Reform liturgy has regularly changed “…who did not make me another nationality” to “…who made me of Israel” and “…who did not make me a slave” to “…who made me free.” The changes are almost universal to progressive liturgy. I would approach them differently. Rather than trying to phrase them in positive terms, I would aim for accuracy. To that end, I am glad that I am “of Israel,” though it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to be of another nationality. Hence, I maintain the progressive minhag of “…who made me of Israel.” As for the second of the identity blessings, I leave it as it is. Though I am glad to be free, I wish to address the fact that I am not a slave. There are many degrees of freedom and variables involved in freedom. Most of these degrees of freedom would be tolerable. Being a slave, however, would be intolerable.

The third of the identity blessings troubles me and my progressive liturgical forbears the most. The reasoning behind the differentiation between male and female versions of this blessing is that men are thanking God for giving them, as men, a larger set of ritual obligations. Women then invoke the language of Genesis, thanking God for making them according to His will. Mistakenly believing that this blessing is about our nature as created beings, Reform liturgies have universally used some form of the idea that we are created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God. The two versions used in Reform liturgies are “…who created me in His image” and “…who created me in the image of God.” I believe that this based on a faulty assumption and that this about gender. If these are identity statements, what is the sense in saying that I am created in the image of God? All people are created in the image of God; that is not unique to my identity. Gender, however, is far from universal and thus a statement about gender makes more sense as an identity statement. The version of this blessing that I have created, with the help of Noa Nessim, offers three statements for differently gendered people. These options acknowledge that we are different from each other through gender without placing one gender in a more elevated place than another. In my version one says either “…who made me a man,” “…who made me a woman,” or “…who made me what I am.” The last option is for those whose sexual identity falls somewhere between male and female.

The next problematic blessing for me is, surprisingly, not addressed at all by most Reform liturgies. Often translated in Reform liturgies as “…who strengthens each person’s steps” or something like that, blessing 11. would be better translated as “…who strengthens the steps of males.” Says Joseph G. Rosenstein, “The Hebrew is mitzadei gaver, and gaver is specifically ‘a male’ not even ‘a person.’ In modern Hebrew, it means ‘mister.’” The only sidurim I know if that address this issue are Rosenstein’s Siddur Eit Ratzon and Shavat Vayinafash, the sidur of Beit Mishpachah, the queer community congregation in Washington, D.C. SER addresses this by reframing the blessing in the first person as “…who strengthens my steps.” I like this to some extent, but I dislike that SER changes the perspective to first person. SV suggests the Hebrew “mitzadei Adam.” Literally, this would mean “… who strengthens the steps of Adam.” This does not make sense to me. Adam’s steps are not at issue here, everyone’s steps are! More acceptable would be “mitzadim B’nei Adam,” the steps of the Children of Adam, Children of Adam meaning simply human beings. I put forth “mitzadim anashim,” which would mean, “…who strengthens people’s steps.”

In the end, all of this renders my preferred version of Nisim B’chol Yom:

בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה אדוני אֱלֹהֵֽינוּ מֶֽלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, אֲשֶׁר נָתַן לַשֶּֽׂכְוִי בִינָה לְהַבְחִין בֵּין יוֹם וּבֵין לָֽיְלָה.
באמ”ה, שֶׁעָשַֽׂנִי יִשְׂרָאֵל.
באמ”ה, שֶׁלֹּא עָשַֽׂנִי עָֽבֶד.
באמ”ה, שֶׁעָשַֽׂנִי אִשׁ/אִשָּׁה/מַה שְׁאָנִי.
באמ”ה, פּוֹקֵֽחַ עִוְרִים.
באמ”ה, מַלְבִּישׁ עֲרֻמִּים.
באמ”ה, מַתִּיר אֲסוּרִים.
באמ”ה, זוֹקֵף כְּפוּפִים.
באמ”ה, רוֹקַע הָאָֽרֶץ עַל הַמָּֽיִם.
באמ”ה, שֶׁעָֽשָׂה לִי כָּל צָרְכִּי.
באמ”ה, הַמֵּכִין מִצְעֲדִים אַנָשִׁים.
באמ”ה, אוֹזֵר יִשְׂרָאֵל בִּגְבוּרָה.
באמ”ה, עוֹטֵר יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּתִפְאָרָה.
באמ”ה, הַנּוֹתֵן לַיָּעֵף כֹּֽחַ.
באמ”ה, הַמַּעֲבִיר שֵׁנָה מֵעֵינָי וּתְנוּמָה מֵעַפְעַפָּי

1. Blessed is God, King of the Universe, who gives the heart the wisdom to distinguish between day and night.
2. …who made me of Israel.
3. …did not make me a slave.
4. …made me [a man]/[a woman]/[what I am].
5. …opens the eyes of the blind.
6. …clothes the naked.
7. …frees the captives.
8. …straightens the bent.
9. …spreads the land over the waters.
10. …made for me all of my needs.
11. …strengthens people’s footsteps.
12. …girds Israel with strength.
13. …crowns Israel with glory.
14. …gives strength to the tired.
15. …removes sleep from the eyes and slumber from the eyelids.

Rethinking the Reform Problem in Israel

In my Modern Jewish History class we transitioned today from talking about Western Europe and Jewish participation in the Enlightenment through Haskalah to talking about Eastern Europe and the creation of Chasidism with an emphasis on the Chasidic knack for staying strong in the face of modernity while traditional Orthodoxy was dwindled by the march of Enlightenment. In the midst of it I had something of an epiphany about the nature of the problem faced by Reform Judaism in Israel.

Reform Judaism, whatever it is now, comes from a historical legacy of assimilation. Western European Jews, especially those in Germany, Hungary, and Austria sought a way to maintain a Jewish identity that was compatible with becoming German (or Austrian or Hungarian or whatever). Moses Mendelssohn had tried something similar to that already, bifurcating his identity into an intensely observant Jew in the home and a secular member of Berlin’s academic elite on the street. Living as a two different people at once is unnatural and hard to do. As a result, only two generations later, all of his grandchildren died as converted gentiles, unable or unwilling to carry out his two-way identity. The other solution to essentially the same problem was reform the tradition. This way, people could be Germans who attend synagogue, a new type of Jew. They have a single identity that is compatible with both a Jewish home life and a German work life. Though I would argue that this is not the point of contemporary Reform ideology, one must agree that this is how it began.

Zionism began in earnest basically at the behest of an Austrian Jew, Theodore Herzl. Though Jewish nationalism in its political form of Zionism was arguable a Western European invention, and thus of the same origin as Reform Judaism, the politically Jews of the East, especially those from the Pale of Settlement, latched on to Zionism in a big way. It was the Easterners who became the major olim and they continue to be, with the ongoing influx of Jews from the former Soviet Union. Thus, though the Jews of Western Europe created Zionism, the Jews to their East populated Zionism and, at least initially (prior to the migration of the Mizrachim to Israel), populated Israel.

In Eastern Europe, no Jews wanted to join the society around them. In the West a desire to do that inspired the formulation of Reform. In the East, Jews became secular, but not through Reform of the religion. They abandoned Jewish religion, but embraced Jewish culture, creating the first real Hebrew and Yiddish modern literature, including everything from plays to newspapers to novels to poetry. The people who created that left in large numbers to found a new Jewish culture in Israel, which those in the West stayed put, content. Secular Jewish culture of the East thus came to Israel from the very get go, while the religious reform of the West stayed put and did not reach Israel until much later.

It is because Israel is truly an extension of Eastern European Jewish culture quite disconnected from the Western version of Jewish culture that Reform can gain no foothold in Israel. The West expressed a largely secular version of Jewish identity through reforming ritual and religion, while the East did it through creation of a secular Jewish culture with its own literature, the tradition of which extends into the Israeli present in the form of Yehudah Amichai and Hadag Nachash. Both approaches fulfill essentially the same need.

Israel fills the need through the Eastern tradition. So what the hell do they need with Reform Judaism?

God’s new name

I want a piece of liturgy praising Adonai, God of Linguistics and Etymology.

I once had a Rabbi of whom I am not a big fan try to explain God’s name, יהוה, YHVH. The name is seemingly unpronouncable, yet one Rabbi explained what he thought was the incredible poetry of this name. He said that there is some evidence to suggest that the letter ו, vav, was formerly pronounced more like a W is in English today. That in mind, he asserted that God’s name was intended to be a breath in and a breath out. “Yaaaahhhhh… Waaaahhhhh…”

Right. I’m definitely not on board with that theory. But here, from the Jerusalem post via Jewschool’s Yehudit Brachah, is an explanation for God’s name that I can really get behind. Not only is it a good historical explanation, but it involves etymology, a pet interest of mine.

Yehudit beings by saying:

An interesting piece in the Jerusalem Post this month about the development of the Hebrew alphabet: as opposed to the Phoenician system of lettering, the Hebrews developed vowels, which allowed people to read out loud their texts, contributed to the spreading of the Bible, and the lasting impact of Judaism. Also, we loved it so much we named our god after the achievement.

Then she quotes JPost:

In short, the patriarch, matriarch, and deity of the Hebrews all get their names by adding a heh to convert otherwise common words into special ones. The Hebrews used their vowel-letters not just to make writing possible, but to create their most important names.We find a four-letter name for God, the tetragrammaton (which means “four-letters” in Greek). The four letters are yud, heh, vav, heh. Common pronunciations such as “Yahweh” or “Jehovah” miss the point. What really matters here is the remarkable fact that this name consists entirely of the Hebrews’ newly invented vowel letters, each included once, with the particularly special heh repeated.The tetragrammaton is unique in ancient Hebrew, in that its pronunciation seems divorced from its spelling. It also seems to lack any plausible etymology, and is unattested in similar ancient languages. Now we know why. The Hebrews paid homage to the vowel letters that made it possible to spread the Word of God by using those letters to refer to God.

I wish I could find the full article. The link given at Jewschool didn’t work and I couldn’t find the article on the JPost site.