May 30, 2012 | 12:44 pm

Day 2639 - A Short Post about a Holy Soul: Neshama Carlebach

Posted by Salvador Litvak

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May it be Your will, HaShem, my G-d, that just as You have helped me complete Tractate Middos, so may You help me to begin other tractates and books, and to complete them; to learn and to teach, to safeguard and to perform, and to fulfill all the words of Your Torah’s teachings with love. (excerpt from the completion blessings for Tractate Middos)

What does it mean to fulfill the Torah’s teachings with love?

I’m sitting in the waiting area at LAX, my redeye to Boston delayed. Annoying, but I’m grateful that I finally have a moment to write an AT post. The past two weeks have been intense: mixing sound on Saving Lincoln, which means balancing 300 tracks of dialogue, score, and effects. Also prepping publicity materials. Continuing review of visual effects. Constantly making choices that have to be right.

I missed several dinners with my kids, though I usually made it home in time for the bedtime ritual. Combined with the morning routine, we had some quality time, but maybe it’s not enough. Perhaps I missed precious minutes with my kids that we can never recover. A different and heavier sort of pressure.

Meanwhile, Daf Yomi rolls on. I usually read early in the morning, before the kids are up. This week, I finished the penultimate tractate of the Talmud, Middos, which describes the Holy Temple in rich detail, as well as the daily order of the Kohens’ service there. It’s so visual and descriptive that one can get lost in the details. But it’s just as easy to glide over them and absorb nothing. What a waste that would be. Yet another kind of pressure.

Excitement is building toward the Siyum in August - a celebration of learning at Metlife Stadium in New Jersey, 100,000 Jews expected.
I’ve been asked to produce a documentary about the Talmud. I feel like I’m too busy to write this little blog! How can I possibly undertake such a task? And yet, if not me, whom?

It’s all aswirl in my head, but the thought that pierces through, and that I must write about, is the concert I attended last week in Alan Broidy’s living room.

Nina and I joined about 50 other guests for an intimate performance by Neshama Carlebach, daughter of Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, z"l. Reb Shlomo was known as the singing rabbi - his melodies have spread throughout the Jewish world, and are now incorporated into services and rituals of every denomination. Uplifting, haunting, rallying, celebratory - he created tunes for every occasion and mood. What they all share, however, is a quality of always having been there, as if he discovered the songs rather than wrote them. A remarkable man who loved G-d and shared that love with his “holy brothers and sisters,” by which he meant all of us.

His music was a big part of my first film, When Do We Eat? In the process of making that happen, I spoke with Neshama on the phone a few times, and we included one of her songs on our CD. I never met her in person, however, until last week.

It cannot be easy to follow in the footsteps of such a spiritual and musical giant as Reb Shlomo, but Neshama does it. Her name means “soul” and oh my, hers is a special and holy neshama.

She sang beautifully. We were all captivated, singing along and clapping when appropriate, mesmerized when silence was better. What struck me most, however, was her light. Neshama loves G-d. She gets that we are all inside G-d, all part of G-d. And so she loves G-d by loving us. Words don’t really capture the feeling - they sound hippy-dippy when I reread them. But in her presence, I felt connected with the Shechinah, the female aspect of G-d’s presence.

To be less mystical about it, Neshama has the courage to proclaim her love of G-d in public. That’s not so easy in modern, educated society. One of the most brilliant guys I’ve ever known - valedictorian of our high school and now a renown scientist - recently told me how pleased he was to be an atheist with a capital “A.” Small “a” is for people who just don’t believe in G-d. Capital “A,” he tells me, is for people who’ve reasoned their way to a statistical certainty that there is no G-d.

I imagine he’d earn great praise at an academic cocktail party, and perhaps on the Op-Ed page of most major papers. Neshama, on the other hand, sings to the choir. When Alan invited me to the concert, he said, “You seem like the sort of guy who’d be moved by a Neshama Carlebach concert.”

“Absolutely,” I answered.

We know each other from synagogue. He’s seen me sing with all my heart. I’m not a good singer - I just do it anyway because it brings me closer to G-d. I love G-d, and I try to tell Him so every day. I don’t say it much in public, however, and I even feel a bit exposed as I write these words. Perhaps because I spend so much time among people like my valedictorian friend. G-d talk is scary to Americans who are not connected with faith, and I can’t say I blame them. They don’t want to be told whether and how they should worship. That kind of freedom is what America is all about.

It’s a shame, however, that so many intelligent people reject faith a priori based on a few limited experiences of bad religion: empty worship, irrational prejudice, smug condescension - all these can be found among G-d’s followers and it’s a turn-off for people who are sincere in their hearts and simply haven’t had good faith-based experiences.

I just wish some of them could attend a Neshama concert, because she fulfills the Torah’s teachings with love. Palpable love.

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Salvador Litvak wrote and directed the Passover comedy and cult hit “When Do We Eat?” His current film, “Saving Lincoln”, explores Abraham Lincoln’s fiery trial as Commander-in-Chief through the eyes of his dear friend and bodyguard, Ward Hill Lamon.

May 11, 2012 | 7:29 pm

Day 1575 - The Honor Due to My Wife

Posted by Salvador Litvak

R’ Chelbo said: A person must always be careful about his wife’s honor, because blessing is found in a person’s house only on account of his wife. (Bava Metzia 59a)

Seven years ago I experienced a minor miracle when I stumbled upon the Daf Yomi way of reading the entire Talmud (see Accidental Talmudist - Day One). When I arrived home that day, with the first book of the Talmud under my arm, I told my wife Nina about it.

She said, “You’re telling me today is the only day in seven years a person can start this thing? And because you happened to be in a bookstore this morning, you have to embark on this mammoth project?”

“Yes.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No…”

Being a great writer and researcher, Nina looked into it and learned I was not kidding. She thought about it, then she sat me down, and said, “In order to read the whole Talmud, you will need to subtract thousands of hours from our home and professional lives over the next seven years.” (Nina and I are a screenwriting team.)

I said, “Um, yeah, maybe it’s not such a good—”

“So, I will pick up the slack. Make sure you finish.”

At the time, our daughter was a toddler, and Nina was eight months pregnant. My doing Daf Yomi has been a huge challenge for both of us, but Nina kept up her end of the deal, and whatever reward I may receive for reading the whole Talmud, she will receive an equal portion. (see Sotah 21a)

As it is stated, And he treated Avram well on her account. (Bava Metzia 59a con’t)

It was also Nina who led us to write an Abraham Lincoln script (see Facebook.com/SavingLincoln), and Nina who has done most of the parenting while I’ve been working untold hours directing the movie. And it is Nina who keeps me grounded when I rush off on some creative or philosophical or intellectual… heck, any tangent will do for me. I’m an airy Gemini, she’s goal-oriented Sagittarius.

All of which is to say, I could not do what I do or be what I am without her. I don’t know why G-d has been so good to me, but I am profoundly grateful. In fact, I met Nina via minor miracle too.

New Year’s Eve, 1997. I was out with my buddies, getting a drink at El Coyote before attending some parties in the hills. I was waiting for a payphone (remember those?) and perched over a table where a beautiful gal was chatting with her friend. She was recently out of a relationship, reluctant to go out on New Years Eve, and only came because her friend insisted. I was smitten.

I barged in, and asked the ladies, “Are you going to a party tonight?”

“Yes,” said the friend.

“Well, you should come to the one my pals and I are going to - it’s going to be off the hook. Here’s the address.” Nina smiled.

Later, I was at the party. I’d been there for a couple of hours when I noticed Nina across the room, talking with some guy. I zoomed in, as if he wasn’t there.

“You came! I’m so glad…”

Nina and I discovered we have a million things in common, from screenwriting to Jewtino heritage.

Why was this a minor miracle? Because she didn’t come to the party on account of my invitation - she was going there anyway!

Nina is an amazing partner in every way. Sometimes we fight, because we’re passionate people who are staking everything on a creative venture. The pressure is pretty intense, and I make decisions all day: “Sal, should this shot be longer or shorter? More or less saturated? This take or that one? Music up-tempo or down? Lighting warmer or cooler? etc, etc.”

Then I get home, Nina asks a simple question like, “Thousand island or vinaigrette?” and I snap back, “Can’t you decide?”

At times like these, she’d be well within her rights to chew my head off. Recently, however, she sent me a beautiful excerpt from a book instead:

According to ancient esoteric thought, a wife is in effect the mirror of her husband - through her, he can see himself, his character traits, his strengths and weaknesses, and the like. Furthermore, the husband is like the sun and the wife is like the moon - she reflects his light. Accordingly, when she is short-tempered, he must rectify his problem with anger. When she is amiss in her responsibilities, he is most certainly faulty in fulfilling his obligations to G-d. (Garden of Emuna by Rabbi Shalom Arush)

In other words, never blame the lady of the house, because she knows best. As G-d told Abraham:

Whatever Sarah tells you, hearken to her voice. (Genesis 21:12)

Rashi says we learn from this verse that Abraham was inferior to Sarah in prophecy. What?! Abraham is the greatest prophet in history! The whole Judeo-Christian-Islamic monotheistic inheritance of the Western World springs from Abraham! According to G-d, however, Sarah knew better.

So, on this Mother’s Day, I want to pay special tribute to my partner in Torah, Talmud, parenting, life, and movies, Nina Davidovich Litvak. May we love forever.

Shabbat Shalom!

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Salvador Litvak wrote and directed the Passover comedy and cult hit “When Do We Eat?” His current film, “Saving Lincoln”, explores Abraham Lincoln’s conflicted tenure as commander-in-chief through the eyes of his dear friend and bodyguard, Ward Hill Lamon.

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May 2, 2012 | 10:14 am

Accidental Talmudist: Day 271 - The Longer Shorter Way

Posted by Salvador Litvak

R’ Yehoshua ben Chananyah said: Once I was walking down the road and I saw a little boy sitting by a fork in the road, and I asked him, “Which is the road we take to the town?” He answered me, “This road is short and long, and this one is long and short.” (Eruvin 53b)

Two days ago, I was pretty stressed out. Professionally, I’m in the final and most difficult stretch of the biggest project of my life. So much depends on it, for me, for my team, for my family. It demands more hours and energy than I have. It is thrilling to be sure, but the stakes sometimes weigh me down.

Naturally, it was at just this period that I became the Accidental Talmudist, and now bear the added responsibility/privilege of sharing what I have learned during my voyage through Talmud - a voyage that still has three months to go. I still have my daily page to read, and I have only just caught up to the Daf Yomi schedule after falling 55 pages behind last summer, when the big project began.

Most importantly, I have in my house an eight-year old daughter, a seven-year old son, and my beloved wife Nina, each of whom deserves quality time with me.

And while all this is going on, I am counting the days from Passover to Shavuot, meditating on the 50 “Gates of Wisdom” in an effort to redeem myself from this year’s Pharaoh, carelessness, so I can free myself, G-d willing, from that defect in my character.

Two days ago, however, I felt like something’s gotta give, and it looked like it would be that meditative practice. I mean, heck, there just aren’t enough hours in the day!

And I went down the road which the boy described as “short and long.” When I approached the town, I discovered it was surrounded with gardens and orchards that blocked access to the town. (Eruvin 53b con’t)

The Lubavitcher Rebbe z”l, connects this Talmudic story about two roads to the Tanya - the foundation text of Chabad, written by Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi. Rabbi Zalman, also known as the Alter Rebbe, begins his book:

For this thing is very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart, that you may do it. (Deut 30:14)

The Torah is full of laws. It takes a year to read, and we reread it every year. The Talmud explores, specifies, amplifies, illustrates, and illuminates those laws in 72 thick volumes. It takes seven and a half years to read. That is a whole lot of information. Who can understand all of it, let alone observe it?

The Rebbe says we must endeavor to learn whatever we can, because G-d gave us the intellectual capacity to do it, and through this study we will come to comprehend our role in the Creation. Such an understanding will translate to our emotions, so that we will not give in to the urges of the Yetzer Hara, i.e. the evil inclination. And eventually, we will dedicate ourselves entirely to doing G-d’s will, and thereby unite with the Holy One. Such a person is entirely a blessing to his or her family, community, tribe, and indeed, the whole world.

Few get there. Yet all benefit themselves and their loved ones by trying. It is a long journey, with a true reward. This is the longer shorter way.

Sounds great. But isn’t it enough to be a good person, make an honest living, and follow the rules everyone else follows, without necessarily understanding all the deep meanings? Especially when you’re mortally busy?

No, says the Rebbe, that is the shorter longer way. Like R’ Yehoshua’s first inclination to to take the path straight to the town, it is misleadingly simple and doomed to frustration, anger and misery. We all have souls that recognize the difference between purpose and purposelessness. If one simply marches along without seeking meaning, he may win battle after battle, but the war will be lost.

I turned back and I said to the boy, “My son, did you not tell me that this road is short?” He said to me, “And did I not also tell you that it is long?” I kissed him on the head, and I said to him, “Praiseworthy are you O Israel, for all of you are very wise, from your old to your young!” (Eruvin 53b con’t)

The 50 Gates of Wisdom are a tool by which one comes to comprehend the self, defects therein, and the path toward refinement. In other words, wisdom is not a talent or gift. It is a practice.

When we count the Omer, we endeavor to leave the impurities of slavery in Egypt behind, and prepare ourselves for receiving Torah at Mt. Sinai. Each day brings a new meditation based on a combination of Sefirot, or the emanations of G-d through which He interacts with His creation. For a good primer, click here.

This year, I’m working on attention to detail. I’m a big picture guy, and sometimes I am careless - with work, with correspondence, with people. To paraphrase a Sicilian sage, a man cannot afford to be careless. But you can’t just say, “I will not be careless.” It won’t work. It’s like a New Year’s resolution. You say it, you mean it, then you wake up with a hangover, and life gets in the way.

To make a real change, I have to do the work. So I count the days, and take the steps away from Pharaoh Carelessness. Two days ago I counted 24 days, which is three weeks and three days. The week is dedicated to Netzach, or endurance. That day I inspected the Tiferet of Netzach, or the balance aspect of endurance. For me this means, how am I implementing attention to detail in my life so that it will endure, and how is balance part of that equation?

When I ask myself that type of question, I get very still and eventually a truth comes. In this case, I thought about scheduling. I have to make time for each of my activities. I can’t be in a reactive mode, rushing from one to the other, anxious about the latter while doing the former, or I’ll always be on my heels, thinking will be muddied and choices rushed. So it starts with a simple action: setting the alarm clock 30 minutes earlier. A practical outcome from an introspective process. G-d willing, this little step will help me become a better father, husband, director, man.

And I believe this process is a big part of why G-d gave us the Torah, and why our tribe has studied it for 3,000 years. As Moses said to all of us at Mt. Sinai:

I make this covenant, with its sanctions, not with you alone, but both with those who are standing here with us this day before the LORD our God and with those who are not with us here this day… Surely, this Instruction which I enjoin upon you this day is not too baffling for you, nor is it beyond reach. It is not the heavens, that you should say, “Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?” Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, “Who among us can cross to the other side of the sea and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?” (Deut. 30:13)

No, the thing is very near to you, in your mouth and in your heart, that you may do it.

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Salvador Litvak wrote and directed the Passover comedy and cult hit “When Do We Eat?” His current film, “Saving Lincoln”, explores Abraham Lincoln’s conflicted tenure as commander-in-chief through the eyes of his dear friend and bodyguard, Ward Hill Lamon.

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April 19, 2012 | 5:56 pm

Accidental Talmudist: Day 855 -  Talmud and Kabbalah

Posted by Salvador Litvak

We are now counting the days from Pesach (a.k.a. Passover, commemorating our redemption from slavery in Egypt) to Shavuot (commemorating our receiving the Torah at Mt. Sinai). This seven-week period, called Counting the Omer, offers the ideal opportunity to begin discussing a question I am often asked on the AT discussion page on Facebook, namely, what is the relationship between Talmud and Kabbalah?

First, we must understand that we are now in a time of mourning.

It may seem strange that we are not waiting in mounting joy for Shavuot, and indeed we will end our mourning on Lag B’Omer, the 33rd day of this period, and then perk up considerably as the birthday of Torah in this world approaches.

But first come these 33 days of mourning for a plague that happened some two thousand years ago.

They said: R’ Akiva had twelve thousand pairs of disciples…and all of them died at the same time because they did not treat each other with respect. (Yevamos 62b)

R’ Akiva, or Akiva ben Yosef, is known as Rosh la-Chachamim, or the Head of All Sages. His teachings are absolutely integral to any understanding of Rabbinic Judaism, and he influenced the nature and manner of the Talmud’s compilation more than anyone.

He is also a fascinating character, and I hope to relate many Akiva stories in future AT blogs. Perhaps the most interesting thing about the Head of All Sages, is that he did not begin learning Torah until he was 40. Prior to that, he thought of Torah scholars as his enemies, whom he wished to “bite like a donkey.” (Pesachim 49b)

The dramatic redirection of Akiva’s life can be attributed to his wife, Rachel. Before they fell in love, he was a hired shepherd and she was the boss’ daughter. She agreed to marry him only if he would cease being an am ha’aretz, or ignoramus, and learn the ways of Torah.

Her father so opposed the match that he disinherited her, and she lived in poverty for 12 years while Akiva studied. Upon returning to her, Akiva overheard an argument between Rachel and a neighbor critical of his long absence. He also heard her reply, “If I had my wish, [Akiva] should stay another 12 years at the academy!” So back he went.

After 12 more years, he returned as the greatest Rabbi in Israel, with 12,000 pairs of students hanging on his words. When a poor woman tried to make her way toward the famous Sage, she was rebuffed.

“Make way for her!” he told them, “For my [learning] and yours are hers.” (Nedarim 50a)

If Akiva is the Head of All Sages, and these were his own 12,000 pairs of students, how is it possible they behaved so badly that a plague was dispatched to wipe them all out? After all, murderers and thieves routinely live long lives. What exactly did these students do that was so wrong? The first hint is that they did not treat a poor woman with respect.

These students were so engrossed in amassing knowledge and the honor that attends such knowledge, that they forgot how to behave like true Torah scholars. They lost the qualities of humility and courtesy which are essential to their profession.

Ben Yehoyada says they were arranged in pairs because Akiva sensed trouble brewing. He tried to avert tragedy by matching strong and weak so proper respect would be paid, but the students only became more jealous of each other’s accomplishments. And because their spiritual level was so elevated thanks to their teacher Akiva, their sin was punished quickly, and completely.

Thus, the great, unbroken line of the Oral Teaching, first given to Moses at SInai, was now held only by the aging Akiva. The world teetered on a precarious edge.

Rabbi Yehudah Prero teaches that the death of a great sage atones for a generation if that generation seizes the event to elevate their spirituality. In Akiva’s time, 24,000 Sages died. What did that generation do? What Jews have always done: they wrestled meaning from tragedy, changed their ways, and moved forward.

Rabbi Akiva began teaching again, and though his later students were only five, they were men of great kindness as well as understanding, and it was through them that the Oral Teaching was saved.

One of those students, R’ Shimon bar Yochai, is traditionally credited with originating the teachings compiled in the Zohar - the foundation text of Kabbalah, or Jewish mysticism. It would take many, many blogs to explain the meaning and history of Kabbalah, but it will suffice for now to say that there has always existed within Judaism a stream of mystical thought, dedicated to understanding the relationship between Creator and Created so that one may experience it.

Such an understanding is necessarily incomplete and ephemeral, but it arises from deep and careful study of every aspect of the Creation, including its most flawed and wonderful component: us.

G-d is perfect, we are not. This everyone knows, but the Talmudist and the Kabbalist share a keen interest in the precise nature of our flaws, so that we may do the crucial work of Tikkun Olam, or repairing the brokenness of the world. That repair starts with the self.

The way Jews take meaning from tragedy is to make themselves better people. Akiva made himself a better teacher. His student, Shimon bar Yochai and his spiritual progeny, the Kabbalists, developed a system for mapping the Creation based on 10 emanations of the Creator’s will. These emanations or sefirot, are defined by and can be understood through our intellectual and emotional capacities because we are created in G-d’s image. Sefirot literally means “enumerations,” the same word used for “counting” the days between Pesach and Shavuot.

In the realm of the Infinite, G-d is undifferentiated, unchanging, and perfect, i.e., One. To create a place for us, and to enable us to have free will, G-d carved out a space within the One that is not perfect. This place is necessarily broken because it cannot contain the infinite light that shines around it. But we can let that light flow through us if we try.

And that is what Counting the Omer is all about. During this period, we engage in a practice of reflection upon the emanations of G-d as we experience them in our own personalities, and try to rectify the flaws which prevent G-d’s light from flowing through us as It desires to flow. For a good primer on the daily meditations one can use to engage in the work of repairing one’s flaws, visit the Chabad website here.

Talmud and Kabbalah thus work hand and hand, and the greatest thinkers in Jewish history all studied both. Examples in the last thousand years include Rambam, Ramban, Maharal, Arizal, the Baal Shem Tov (founder of Hasidism) and the Vilna Gaon (the principal opponent of Hasidism). One of my favorite thinkers is the Baal Shem Tov’s great grandson, Reb Nachman of Breslov and I will leave you with one of his teachings - a teaching which is especially appropriate while we are Counting the Omer.

Reb Nachman taught that we must spend some quiet time every day talking with G-d, not as some insect would talk to a Giant King in the Sky, but as you would talk with your own True Friend. Rabbi Mordecai Finley taught me to start with just 60 seconds a day, but to do it every day. You must schedule it. I have an alarm on my phone that goes off every afternoon. My computer is also set to perform a backup at that hour, so I have to stop.

If you try this practice, you’ll find three things: 1) it’s very enjoyable to have a little cessation every day you can count on, like a mini-Shabbat, 2) it’s very enjoyable to chat with G-d because He is an excellent Listener, and 3) every question you ask during this time will give rise to a truth you already know, but didn’t stop to heed.

What do I do wrong? How do I do it? Why do I do it? What can I do about it? How will I start? What can I do right now? What shall I do after that?

All these questions have answers that will arise during your daily chat with G-d, if you schedule it. As you become aware of those answers, you will naturally modify your behavior toward a good balance of understanding and kindness, like the latter students or R’ Akiva.

Amazingly, Shimon Bar Yochai died on the anniversary of the day which ended the plague that killed the 24,000 - Lag B’Omer (May 10, 2012). It is customary to celebrate his yahrtzeit with great rejoicing, as we turn the mourning of the first part of the Omer into the joyous expectation of the latter part.

May we all merit to grow in both understanding and kindness this Omer season, and may we all drink wisdom from the interconnected streams of Talmud and Kabbalah.

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Salvador Litvak wrote and directed the Passover comedy and cult hit “When Do We Eat?” His current film, “Saving Lincoln”, explores Abraham Lincoln’s conflicted tenure as commander-in-chief through the eyes of his dear friend and bodyguard, Ward Hill Lamon.

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April 6, 2012 | 12:41 pm

Accidental Talmudist: Day 2544 - The Substitution Principle

Posted by Salvador Litvak

My mom loves that I’ve been reading the Talmud for seven years, and that I am now the Accidental Talmudist. In all this time, however, she never asked what I am actually learning…until today.

It would’ve been nice if this morning’s page contained one of those profound sound bites that instantly spark conversation. For example:

Hillel would say… One who increases flesh, increases worms; one who increases possessions, increases worry. (Pirkei Avot 2:7)

In truth, however, I had been reading a difficult passage about the laws of sacrifices in the ancient Temple - a passage so difficult even the Sages had trouble with it:

This itself is difficult! First you said, “All can make temurah…” Then the Mishnah taught, “Not that a person is permitted to make temurah.” (Temurah 2a)

A temurah is a substitute for an animal previously designated as a sacrificial offering. Remember that in the ancient world, religion without sacrificial offerings did not exist . When the Almighty revealed the Torah at Sinai, however, the nature and manner of the sacrifice was radically redefined.

First, no more human sacrifice - a bizarre and horrific idea to us, but altogether common among agrarian pagans who feared they’d starve if they did not propitiate their weather and fertility gods.

Rambam says the human race needed the age of Temple sacrifices to help it transition out of its barbaric infancy, and that is what happened. Recall that the Temple was not just a place where Jews offered their gifts - many others came as well. And the world evolved.

Inherent to that evolution were the very specific laws of the sacrifices. One such rule is that once an unblemished animal is designated for offering upon the Altar, it belongs to Almighty, even before it is slaughtered. If the giver then tries to substitute a new animal for the first, he commits a transgression, with the result that both animals become consecrated.

“All can make temurah” refers to the fact that different classes of individuals can commit this transgression, even though one might have thought certain classes were exempt if one were expert in the applicable laws. Subtle distinctions abound, and generations of Sages debated every case and nuance of the temurah principle.

My mom nodded, and then asked what any reasonable person who has not studied Talmud might ask. “But why spend so much energy understanding these laws now, when the Temple has been gone for 2000 years?”

Many answers have been given. The Sages themselves taught that one who recites the Torah’s description of sacrificial rites is considered as if he actually performs them. (Taanit 27b)

That’s quite a claim: study the rules governing an action, and you are credited with performing the action itself - I wish that were the case with taxes!

But in this situation, the equivalency works because the purpose of sacrifices was never to “feed” the Holy One. G-D doesn’t need our sacrifices. The sacrificial system was given to us for our benefit, not His. And we can receive that benefit without spilling blood if we dig into the system’s rules in search of inherent principles by which that system elevates our souls.

In the case of temurah, Rambam says our innermost intentions are known to the Torah, and this law serves to forestall us from thinking, “Boy, I know I have a lot to atone for, but I just dedicated my choicest ram for the Altar, and I’m sure G-D will be just as thankful for that ram over there,  which might be smaller, but has such nice wool…”

In other words, we use our big brains to fabricate excuses, and we dilute the holy urge for atonement and personal growth.

Now let’s apply the substitution principle to a modern situation. Last week, I wrote about the approaching Passover Seder as an opportunity to free yourself, with G-D’s help, from Pharaoh, i.e. a bad habit which enslaves you (to read last week’s post, “Be Da Mensch,” click here). Examples of Pharaohs might be smoking, shouting, passivity, lack of exercise, etc.

If you bring a conscious desire for your own personal redemption to the Seder, (and our Christian friends might recall that the Last Supper was a Seder) you can make 2012 the year that you cross the Red Sea, and leave that Pharaoh behind.

Invariably, however, you will slip backwards in your newfound freedom, as the bad habit lulls you back toward your old patterns. And the mechanism by which we slip is substitution.

For example, I want to start exercising more, and I have an treadmill in my basement. The first day I use it. The second day, I think it’s so cold down there, but if a go to the driving range, it will be sunny, and hitting balls is also a kind of exercise. The third day I think, I was frustrated at the range yesterday, but If I watch the pros play golf on TV, I’ll learn something that will motivate me to go back tomorrow. And by the fourth day, the couch has enslaved me again.

So the temurah principle is a pattern interrupt for those wishing to grow in mind, body and spirit. When you catch yourself slipping back toward Egypt, by rationalizing a substitute for the action required by your new plan, you DO BOTH! Hit the treadmill AND the range.

That will cost you a lot of time today, but it will help you remember not to engage in substitution tomorrow, and then you will not slip back toward Egypt.

And my mom liked that.

May we all merit to learn wisdom from our ancients, and may we all grow in spirit, heart, and mind this Passover. Chag Pesach Sameach!

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Salvador Litvak wrote and directed the Passover comedy and cult hit “When Do We Eat?” His current film, “Saving Lincoln”, explores Abraham Lincoln’s conflicted tenure as commander-in-chief through the eyes of his dear friend and bodyguard, Ward Hill Lamon.

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March 29, 2012 | 3:15 pm

Accidental Talmudist: Day 438 - Be da Mensch!

Posted by Salvador Litvak

My friend, David Lewis, shared a teaching with me years ago, in the name of the great near-Yid, Bruce Springsteen:

A time comes when you need to stop waiting for the man you want to become and start being the man you want to be.

I have probably repeated those words to myself a thousand times. Rav Bruce is talking about positive transformation; the kind that takes daily, if not hourly, work. My version of that saying is “be da mensch,” and if you ever see those words on a CA license plate, please give a friendly honk, because you’re looking at the Accidental Talmudist.

I hesitated for years to get a personalized plate. There’s value in anonymity - you make a clean getaway - but in the end, I wanted to share a message that’s meant so much to me. And I’m happy to report that the plate has sparked enough knowing chuckles among passersby to justify the extra 30 bucks a year.

I believe it was the same impulse that led to this blog. I stumbled into Talmud thanks to a little miracle (if you’re just joining us, click here for the story); and as the seven-and-a-half year cycle of Daf Yomi approaches completion (the Siyum happens this August), I want to get the word out to folks like me, who may have heard of the Talmud, but never imagined they’d actually read it.

You can read it. And it will change your life. It has certainly changed mine.

The neat thing is, you already know some Talmud, and we’re all about to read that bit next week in the Passover Haggadah. Several key passages are taken directly from the Mishnah, i.e. the first written version of the Oral Law, compiled around 200 CE. The Oral Traditions of the Mishnah were substantially expanded by those of the Gemara around 500 CE and together these Rabbinic discussions, legends, arguments, and expositions comprise the Talmud.

Now, the problem with the Haggadah is that the taste of Talmud it offers the average, non-Yeshiva-educated Jew, or friend of the Jews, is not always exciting. Here comes the Accidental Talmudist, however, to show you how exciting it can be.

The trick to understanding the Seder is that it’s meant to be a Talmudic discussion, and the Haggadah is in fact a study guide for a vibrant Q&A.

And even two Torah scholars who are proficient in the laws of Passover must ask one another. (Pesachim 116a, Daf Yomi Day 438)

The famous Four Questions (Why is this night different from all other nights, etc.) have become a cute recitation we teach our kids to perform at the Seder. The Talmud, however, actually says:

...here the son asks his father. And if the son lacks understanding, his father teaches him to ask. (Ibid.)

The Four Questions are

examples

of questions. The commandment is to have a Q&A about Israel’s journey from “disgrace to glory”, not to ask these particular questions. Of course, what has happened is that the dry recitation has replaced dynamic discussion in most Jewish homes - which is exactly why G-D commanded that the Oral Law remain oral. The Mishnah was written down 1500 years later because the Sages feared they’d all be murdered by Rome, and our precious tradition would be lost. Perhaps they should not have worried - Rome vanished, like every other “power” that persecuted our little tribe over the last 3500 years - but Sages’ fear was understandable.

Still, we must understand that the written form of the Oral Law was never meant to replace the oral tradition. We learn from our elders, our teachers and each other by asking questions and searching for answers

together

. A good discussion is one in which all parties learn something none knew before.

The Haggadah, just like the rest of the Talmud, is a photograph of a fountain (Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz). It models a good, Torah-based discussion, so we can start our own. Once we do, the waters of Torah will flow down from G-D, through our ancestors, to us. But we must open our mouths to drink from that fountain.

So, how do you get that conversation going at Seder, and how will that help you be da mensch you’ve always wanted to be? Creative solutions abound, but here are a few we’ve used at our Seder table:

1. Think of a negative behavior you’d like to shed. In the past you may have made a New Year’s resolution to outgrow a habit, and failed. Why? Because a mere intention, coupled with a night of drinking champagne is guaranteed to fail. Instead, start thinking about that habit a few weeks before the festival on which you want to draw a line in the sand. Like right now. Then, when you show up at Passover, you write down your habit - no need to share with the others if you’d rather be private about it - and burn the paper before the Seder starts. That habit is your Pharaoh; it has enslaved you for years, and you’re about to be redeemed. This night will be your personal Exodus.

2. As you read the Haggadah, every time you hear “Pharaoh,” think of the habit which enslaves you. Have you been able to free yourself by your own efforts? No. How will you get free in the future? With G-D’s help. G-D wants you to be a better human being - the Holy One wants you to be a mensch. That’s why you were invented. To repair yourself, and repair this broken world, and do what only the humans can do. Will it be easy? Absolutely not.

The Israelites left Egypt on the wings of eagles, with miracles, signs and wonders. A few weeks later, they were whining about water and meat, and worshipping a golden calf. Good grief! Can you blame G-D for going “Old Testament” on them? But the Holy One still loves those wayward children, and bestows upon them the greatest gift ever given to mankind - the Torah, both Written and Oral.

So, even though you will slip and slide on the path to overcoming your bad habit, you will eventually reach the promised land if you adopt a daily practice that reminds you of

G-D’s faith in you

. You can start with one minute - one minute a day of asking G-D how you can do better. Eventually, you might join a community of G-D oriented people and grow with them, but in the beginning you can even do it alone.

If his son is not intelligent enough to ask, his wife asks him, and if there is no wife, he asks himself. (Ibid.)

You’ve got to get used to asking questions, even of yourself. Schedule one minute a day to ask yourself how it’s going in your project to escape from your Pharaoh. By merely asking, you will receive answers on how to do better, and having become aware of the areas for improvement, you will in fact do better. After a while, you’ll even find it’s fun, and profound, and you may want to set aside a little more time every day for questions and answers.

And then, just maybe, you’ll want to give Daf Yomi a try.

May you have an exciting, meaningful Passover, that moves you one step closer to being da mensch you’ve always wanted to be. Chag sameach!

(If you’d like to attend a Seder, but don’t have one, just google “find a seder” and you will easily find a seat among people who will thank you for coming. Happy Passover!)

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Exchange ideas with Salvador Litvak and other Talmudists at facebook.com/accidentaltalmudist (and please LIKE the page to help enlarge our community)

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Salvador Litvak wrote and directed the Passover comedy and cult hit “When Do We Eat?” His current film, “Saving Lincoln”, explores Abraham Lincoln’s conflicted tenure as commander-in-chief through the eyes of his dear friend and bodyguard, Ward Hill Lamon.

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March 23, 2012 | 10:48 am

Accidental Talmudist: Day 1574 - Don’t Eye the Merchandise

Posted by Salvador Litvak

My son’s 7th birthday is coming up and he wants a punching bag so he can practice tae kwon do at home. I studied the art myself for years, so I know what he needs, and it’s not an inflatable, wobbling piece of dreck that ends up punctured in a week. He’s got a solid roundhouse. He needs a good bag, with a heavy base, that will survive thousands of punches and kicks.

The problem is we don’t have a spot for a bag like that inside our house, and the elements will eventually ruin a bag if you leave it outside. I did lots of online research, but I couldn’t find the right solution. So I did something I hardly ever do anymore: I went to the store.

Good thing. By seeing the bag in person, and talking with an expert, I learned we can keep a good bag outside because the punching part comes off the base quite easily, and can thus be stored inside. Having done the research, however, I also realized the bag in the store was overpriced. I could therefore simply go home, one-click on Amazon, have the right bag delivered free of charge (love that Amazon Prime) and save a fistfull of dollars. But there’s a big problem:

One should not say to someone, “How much is this item,” if he does not want to buy. (Bava Metzia 58b)

I first heard this teaching from Rabbi Mordecai Finley, who explained, “If even this kind of speech is prohibited, how much more must we avoid words that destroy peace in the home.”

It is absolutely prohibited to cause anguish through speech. In fact, the Sages teach that anyone who “makes his friend’s face turn white in public, it is as if he has spilled blood,” i.e. murdered his friend. (Ibid.)

The Sages derive this prohibition from the Torah’s monetary laws in Leviticus 25, where the words “man shall not wrong his fellow” are mentioned twice: once to ban deceit in business, and again to prevent every other form of harmful speech. Examples range from reminding people of past wrongs, to branding them with mocking nicknames.

The ban on humiliation is readily understood because damage to a reputation cannot be undone. But why is it so wrong to inquire about the price of an object when you do not intend to buy? After all, Mama said, “You better shop around.”

R’ Yehuda says a person should not even eye merchandise when he does not have money. (Bava Metzia 58b)

Catch that? It is harmful speech to imply that you’re interested in merchandise, even if you don’t say a word! Rashbam explains that you will thereby harm the vendor by causing others to believe you are buying the item, thus causing real buyers to look elsewhere. (Pesachim 112b, Daf Yomi Day 434)

Ben Yehoyada says the vendor will be harmed because others will see you looking without buying, and assume the merchandise is tainted or overpriced. (Ibid)

Most interesting of all, however, is Rabbeinu Chananel’s teaching: since you will not buy the item in the end, you will come to diminish its value in the eyes of the vendor. (Ibid.)

Now this is very strange. Surely the vendor knows what the item is worth. Does it really confuse him that I look at his merchandise without buying? Doesn’t he desire that I look today, even if I don’t buy, for perhaps I will buy tomorrow?

What is going on here? I received a clue when my wife reminded me of a teaching by Rabbi Reuven Wolf regarding Amalek, the little tribe that attacked the Jewish people right after G-d delivered us from the superpower, Egypt. At that moment, the whole world knew G-d was with us, but Amalek didn’t care. Amalek knew he would be wiped out for attacking us, but he just didn’t care. Why? Because Amalek is all about self-destruction, and Amalek is most engaged when holiness is close at hand.

Rabbi Wolf explains that Amalek means “nation of slaughter” - the kind of slaughter in which the head is detached from the torso, i.e. the brain is cut off from the heart. Amalek is an inner voice that interrupts our wise-hearted flow, and ruins everything good. It tells us we are inadequate, generates doubt, and leads to passivity, anger or worse, when the opposite is most needed.

Think of a time when you were inspired to go out, or go in, and do something new and good. At such a moment you’re in a beautiful, but vulnerable space. Your resolution can waver. The new enthusiasm can easily die. What you need at that moment is support. A pat on the back can work a wonder. What will kill the momentum every time, however, is a snicker.

Somebody dismisses your new venture with a smug little laugh, and suddenly you doubt its value. That person’s Amalek engages your Amalek, and then your new business idea, your new diet, your new mitzvah doesn’t seem so worthy in your eyes, and the bag is punctured. Worse, the mocker doesn’t even have to snicker out loud. A mere glance can send the message, and your new venture suddenly seems like a waste of time.

I like to try new things. I’ve passed through that vulnerable beginner phase many times. I don’t even remember the endeavors that didn’t stick. But I put in years of work with Talmud, tae kwon do, screenwriting, directing, rowing, and more. And I’ve been most rewarded in those activities by helping others to engage in them. I love teaching, and I’ve had many students.

As a teacher, I’ve observed over and over again how easily a person can lose regard not only for a new endeavor, but even for the most precious merchandise of all: his or her self-confidence. To build that confidence by appreciating a person’s effort is a holy thing. To eyeball their endeavor and dismiss it is a sin. And that is why we must be so careful not to look like a buyer when we stand near someone’s precious stuff, if in fact we never had any intention to buy into it.

So, what did I do at the martial arts store? Well, I got off easy. The bag they had in stock was black and pink. My son hates pink (probably because his older sister loves pink). No way I’m giving him a pink punching bag for his birthday. But I did buy him the punching gloves at the store, as well a couple of kick pads so we could work out together. Those items were overpriced too, but at least I compensated the vendor for his valuable advice.

May we all support each other in our nascent endeavors, and may we merit to achieve some level of mastery in the fields we most enjoy. Shabbat Shalom!

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Salvador Litvak wrote and directed the Passover comedy and cult hit “When Do We Eat?” His current film, “Saving Lincoln”, explores Abraham Lincoln’s conflicted tenure as commander-in-chief through the eyes of his dear friend and bodyguard, Ward Hill Lamon.

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March 15, 2012 | 5:02 pm

Accidental Talmudist: Day 2,558 - A Teacher Like Mrs. Schreiber

Posted by Salvador Litvak

If I ask you to name a teacher who influenced you, does a name and a face come to mind?

We were recently asked to recall such teachers by a young rabbi at Temple Beth Am. Conversations buzzed instantly. The gentleman sitting next to me had a professor who said, “You’ll never be a writer.” Thirty years later, the gentleman was published in the Anthology of Outstanding American Writing, and couldn’t resist sending a copy to the professor. The gracious reply: “My dear boy, a teacher is never disappointed to be shown he underestimated a student.”

The session ended before I had a chance to share my own recollection. Had time permitted, I would’ve mentioned Mrs. Schreiber, my 6th grade teacher at New City Elementary. I was then a colossal geek: an immigrant kid without older siblings, my nearest cousin a thousand miles away, and no one to guide me in the ways of cool.  I was also too tall and too red-haired, I never had the right clothes and I couldn’t punt a football to save my life. The one thing I had going for me was smarts, but that was not a social benefit, and I compensated by talking too much. Trouble loomed.

Enter Mrs. Schreiber. New City Elementary did not have an enrichment program, but she decided I needed one, so she created it. She purchased a 9th grade algebra book, drafted a course of study, and challenged me. More importantly, when I felt I was racing ahead of my classmates, and could thus be excused for blowing off some homework, she chose just the right words to check my ego and keep me focused. Mrs. Schreiber did a ton of extra, unpaid work because she believed in me, and that investment led me to believe in myself. I did not become cool, but I did stay out of trouble. Mostly.

I mention all this here because the Talmud, which is basically written by teachers, holds teachers to a very high standard of conduct. I believe Mrs. Schreiber liked me, perhaps even loved me as she loved all her students, but she went the extra mile because it was the right thing to do.

Those who write down the laws of the Oral Torah are like one who burns the Torah. (Temurah 14b)

What?! The Talmud is mostly a written record of the Oral Torah! What is going on here?

The Oral Torah is a collection of laws and interpretations that were transmitted to Moses at Mount Sinai and passed down orally through the generations. Commentators have suggested that the Oral Torah should not be written down because it could catch fire on Shabbat, and we would are not permitted to break the Sabbath laws in order to rescue such writings as we would a Torah Scroll. (Ibid.)

Rashi says the writing of such laws is not literally like burning a Torah Scroll, but rather that the essence of the Oral Torah is its oral transmission, and it is thus forbidden to engage in an activity that will undermine that process. (Shabbos 6b)

Likewise, Ritva says such writing leads to misinterpretation because the give-and-take of a teacher/student relationship is essential to the comprehension of Oral Torah - if a student reads the writing alone he will inevitably misunderstand the true nature of his studies. (Gittin 60b)

Eventually, of course, the Oral Torah had to be written down, because the alternative was worse: if the Sages did not transcribe their tradition after the desctruction of Jerusalem, that tradition would be lost. This is the very limited meaning of the verse:

When it is a time to act for G-d, nullify your Torah. (Temurah 14b)

It is still required, however, to learn with a teacher if a teacher is available. Indeed, two pages later in Tractate Temurah we encounter a wonderful example of the Oral Torah’s role in illuminating the written word.

The poor man and the oppressor meet together; the LORD gives light to the eyes of both. (ESV, Proverbs 29:13)

“Oppressor” is a common translation of the Hebrew “techachim.” The proverb thus suggests that the oppressor derives his sustenance from the same Source as the oppressed, and he will eventually get his comeuppance. The Oral Tradition, however, interprets “techachim,” which literally means broken, as deriving from “toch” which means middle or average. Thus:

The poor man and the middle class man have met, G-d will enlighten the eyes of both. (Termurah 16a)

R’ Nassan explains: a student approaches a teacher of middling accomplishment and says, “Teach me Torah.” If the teacher teaches, G-d will enlighten the eyes of both. If the teacher does not teach, the student will become wise regardless, presumably by finding another teacher, and the teacher will eventually become a fool. (Ibid.)

Now we begin to understand why the Talmud is completely unlike any other book of law. It records contradictory opinions, illustrative anecdotes and mystical allegories because it is actually a study guide for teacher and student (or study-partners among whom the teacher/student roles oscillate.) You can start reading Talmud on your own, but eventually you will need a teacher, and a great teacher is a treasure.

Which brings me back to Mrs. Schreiber, who first kindled my love of learning. She not only encouraged me to ask questions, she demanded it. And I suspect she learned something from the process.

I have always believed a good conversation is one in which all participants learn something that none knew before. Perhaps that is why I became the Accidental Talmudist. I look forward to learning from you, my friends, and hearing about your favorite teachers at facebook.com/accidentaltalmudist

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Salvador Litvak wrote and directed the Passover comedy and cult hit “When Do We Eat?” His current film, “Saving Lincoln”, explores Abraham Lincoln’s conflicted tenure as commander-in-chief through the eyes of his dear friend and bodyguard, Ward Hill Lamon.

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