What does history mean to me? (Jewish Thoughts)

Disclaimer: my goal with this blog, at least here in Israel, is two-fold. On the one hand, I want to keep everyone informed of what I'm doing: the places I go, the things I do, etc. On the other hand, I also want to start practicing my Jewish writing: dealing with Jewish issues, especially as I see them and as they relate to me here and now in Jerusalem. I will try to, from now on, distinguish between the two: let's call them "Israel Updates" and "Jewish Thoughts," respectively. This post is one of the latter. I will hopefully update with more generic goings-on (hopefully within the next day or so). Also, be prepared: this post is very long. --Eric

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Today is Tisha B'Av. Literally, it means simply the ninth of (the month of) Av. While the name is unimportant, it has a very significant meaning in Jewish tradition: it is the day that, essentially, all the bad things that happened to the Jewish people happened. This includes, according to tradition: the worship of the Gold Calf; the spies returning from the Promised Land and giving their negative report; the destruction of the First Temple in 586 BCE; the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE; the expulsion from Spain on August 2, 1492; and the establishment of the first ghetto in Rome on July 26, 1555. This isn't even the full list: there are more things that tradition says happened on this day.

One of the things this day is about is remembering: remembering our past, specifically these terrible events, and then mourning them, too. All of the things on this list, even if they didn't happen on the actual 9th of Av, did happen. They are historically accurate.

But is everything in the Torah historically accurate?

If there is one thing I have learned from my Biblical History lecture, it is that no, the Torah is not historically accurate. While I already knew this, I am finally learning a lot of the details. As my professor, Dr. David Ilan, put it: the further back you go in history, the less extra-biblical sources there are to corroborate the story of the Tanakh. While much of the class is tough and above my head at first (I'm working out the details as I go back and study), it basically looks at history and sees whether or not the Tanakh can fit within it--or not. Unfortunately, a lot of the time it seems not to fit. There are anachronisms, for example: camels are mentioned in the story of Isaac meeting Rebekah, and yet camels did not exist in that area until later. Also, there are plenty of place names that seem not to exist in the spots they are now, or are called by different names, etc. There are other contradictions, too.


Yet at the same time, there is evidence that while maybe the events did not happen exactly as written in the Tanakh, similar events might have, indeed, happened. The Ziggurat of Ur, for example, is a giant tower with stairs that is quite massive--taller than anything else in that region (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ziggurat_of_Ur). Its original function was to help the priests get closer and communicate with the gods. Could this not be a distant origin of the Tower of Babel? Also at the Ziggurat, commoners would often sleep at the bottom, and in the morning they would interpret their dreams. Could this not be a long lost memory which eventually became Jacob's Ladder?

These all point to some sort of accuracy in the Tanakh. Are they true stories? Maybe, maybe not, but there seems to be evidence of folk memory--memories passed down from generation to generation, until they were eventually written down. Proto-history, as it is called--that stage before history was written down, but still passed along from person to person.

So with all of this--these contradictions and anachronisms, and these pieces of evidence that only barely give support--can we still find meaning in the Torah? Personally, as a Reform Jew, I believe that the Torah, while divinely inspired, was written by humans. Does this, along with the archaeological evidence, mean that the entire basis of our religion is wrong? And if so, how does that affect my spirituality?

Unfortunately, there is no one, right answer to these questions. At the same time, however, there are many sources of guidance to help find an answer. One such source was a reading for class: "Moses" by Ahad Ha'am, a Zionist and essayist. In this article he talks about great men in history: how over time, their image changes, legends develop, and the picture that is painted is eventually far different from the real man. In today's world of research, archaeology, and historical fact-finding, many scholars try to discover new details about a person. Some think this will change the world's interpretation of him--that if someone discovers something new, such as this famous person didn't really say a famous speech, or that famous person didn't really win as many battles as previously thought, then the world will change and people's views of him will change. To them, it is very important to find out the "truth" behind these great people.

Ahad Ha'am views historical characters differently. For him, it's not the "archaeological truths" that matter--it's the "historical truths." As he says, "Every man who leaves a perceptible mark on that life, though he may be a purely imaginary figure, is a real historical force; his existence is an historical truth. And on the other hand, every man who has left no impress on the general course of life, be his concrete existence at a particular time never so indisputable, is only one of the million..." (I disagree with his view on the common and less famous people, but from a historical perspective, it makes sense.) To him, it doesn't matter if Moses was real or not. Either way, Moses affected generations and generations of Jews, and his influence still affects Jews throughout the world today. So what if he was not real? He has been our leader not just in the 40 years of the desert, but also in the past thousands of years in real life. He is as real as he needs to be.


And so it comes down to meaning. The Torah is not just a history or a genealogy. It takes that history and finds meaning in it. It takes those genealogies and give them purpose. It takes the text and lets you dive in to find a subtext. A history book might tell you what things happened in life, but the Tanakh tells you why things happen in life--yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

So what does this all have to do with Tisha B'Av? Why am I linking these two topics? For me, it boils down, once again, to meaning--what can we take away from this holiday? How can I connect to my past in a meaningful way?

And honestly, I don't know the answers to these questions. This past week has been a time of internal struggle as I think about and develop my thoughts and feelings on this subject. On the one hand, Tisha B'Av is important to me because it connects me to my past, helps me remember those who have suffered before me, and reminds me that I am here today because I am a link in a chain of tradition going back to the first of these tragedies, the destruction of the First Temple, and beyond. While I was not there for the destruction of the Second Temple, I can use this day to try to imagine what it was like to have your whole world, your whole way of life, suddenly change. I was also not there for the expulsion from Spain, but I shudder to think of what it would be like to be forced out of your home and move to a foreign land forever.

Ashkenazic Jews mourning the loss of the Temple. They are sitting
 on the floor and "wailing" (a mournful chant, not real crying).

Yet Tisha B'Av is not just remembering--it's also mourning. Traditional Jews mourn the loss of the Temple. One of our teachers today said that normally we prefer to call HaKotel the "Western Wall," but today it really does become the "Wailing Wall," because so many Orthodox Jews actually do wail--they cry, they weep, they mourn. How can I, as a Reform Jew, mourn the loss of the Temple, when its destruction meant the end of the sacrificial cult--a religious method I am glad to be rid of--and also meant the ascendancy and supremacy of prayer--which I fully support? How can I regret this change, when it means that today's Judaism only exists because of it? Why would I fast (which I am not doing) when, in reality, I am not mourning these events, only remembering and commemorating them? And while yes, they happened in my history and they are part of my past, in reality they happened a long time ago in places (usually) far away.

Sitting on the floor at a Sephardic synagogue.

Last night we had the opportunity to go to a Sephardic synagogue for evening prayers and the reading from the book of Lamentations. And I felt very disconnected from it. While on the one hand I know that this is partially because I do not know Sephardic traditions, and also because my Hebrew is not good enough yet to follow their public reading, on the other hand I also know that I felt disconnected because, unlike them, I am not mourning the loss, just commemorating it.

Lots and lots of people at the Kotel on Tisha B'Av.

We later had the chance to go to the Kotel, where I once again saw hundreds of people mourning the loss. And while this was much more familiar--many were Ashkenazi, and I am quite familiar with the Kotel--I was still disconnected. I was much more interested in watching them mourn than mourning myself.

In conclusion, these are the many questions I have been wrestling with on this Tisha B'Av. There are a lot of them--and I don't know the answers now, and who knows if I will. I suppose my goal of this year is to start building upon these questions, adding to the foundation I already have. Some people have said this year builds the foundation for the future, but I disagree. I already have a great foundation from my Hebrew School days, my time spent at UMass, and my experience working at Temple Sinai. Instead, this year is building the first floor--which is the most important floor, since it contains the lobby and all its first impressions. And so I will study, I will learn, I will go out and explore--and I will look within and explore, too. And the good news is that I've already started; at the beginning of Tisha B'Av I had no connection whatsoever, and now I at least feel something, even if it's not where it might be in the future.


And the journey will not end after these five years. It is my hope that after I am done with HUC, I will be ready to go out on my own with many (but definitely not all) of the answers.

This is my hope--and I am very, very confident that it will come true.

May you have an easy fast and a meaningful holiday.