NormanG's Blog

Several years ago I met a Jewish woman who told me that she was a member of an Eastern cult, and that she attended an ashram. That puzzled me. Was she unfamiliar with or dillusioned by Judaism? Perhaps, but I didn't ask her for her reasons. Instead, I decided to study Hinduism and Buddhism to seek an answer and satisfy my curiosity. I focused my research on the basic principles of both religions to compare, briefly, with what I knew about Judaism.

Hinduism, like Judaism, is based on individual free will. It seeeks to liberate its disciples from experiencing physical and emotional pain by controlling personal desires and expectations. This freedom will lead to infinite bliss by avoiding frustration and disappointment. The paths to infinite bliss consist of the knowledge learned from a wise teacher, or guru, the repetition of God's name, the practice of endowing daily tasks with sacredness, and meditation to get in touch with one's inner self. Hinduism also regards the human soul as made up of freedom, responsibility, and effort, which consitute a person's "karma." Moreover, this karma goes through a process of evolution, or reincarnation.

Buddhism, an offshoot of Hinduism, was founded in the 6th century (BCE) by Siddhartha Gautama, whose name means "One who is rich in fulfillment." He believed that life is suffering, and that human suffering is the result of ignorant or selfish cravings. To overcome human suffering, we must redirect our cravings through the "Eight-fold-Path." This path reads like an inventory of psychotherapy, identifying the wrong craving and seeking to correct it, controlling one's thoughts, working at an occupation that does not conflict with one's moral standards, reinforcing one's positive traits and extinguishing the negative traits, using the proper yoga to cope with daily pressures, and finding the meaning of life. If a person follows this path, he will attain blissful enlightenment, which is called "Nirvana."

If we compare the beliefs of Hinduism and Buddhism with Judaism, we discover similarites and differences. In our materialistic society, which generates the stress of competition, insecurity, and anxiety, we can understand why these Eastern religions can be so attractive. They appeal to our desire for guidance toward enjoying mental health without consulting a psychotherapist.

The Role of the Jewish prophets was so important that Rabbis placed them in the Bible. They came from various occupations and social positions--shepherds, the son of a priest, and the upper social class--whom God had selected as spokesmen to chasten the Jews for their sins and to reassure them of Divine mercy if they repented and mended their ways.

Why did God choose certain individuals as His prophets? My guess is that, because God is all-knowing, He had foreknowledge of who possessed the necessary qualifications for this mission. In the case of Jeremiah, for example, God reveals this knowledge: "Before I formed thee in the belly, I knew thee, and after thou camest forth out of the womb, I sanctified thee; I have appointed thee a prophet unto the nations." (Jeramiah 1:5.)

Being Divinely selected as prophet or spokesman for God would seem to be a great honor, but it was fraught with great responsibility and danger. In the Book of Exodus, we learn that Moses did not jump with joy when God required him to speak to the pharaoh and lead the Children of Israel out of Egypt to the Promised Land. In fact, we learn that Moses gave an excuse to evade the mission, namely, his slowness of speech. Who can blame him? After all, he was an 80-year-old shepherd, married to the daughter of a Midian priest, and the father of two sons. To give up that pastoral life and marital responsibility must have been difficult, but Moses made that sacrifice with the promised help of his brother Aaron.

Though the lives of the prophets were protected by Providence, they faced many trials in fulfilling their mission. When they reprimanded the sinful kings, princes, and priests of Israel, they antagonized the ruling classes and provoked the guilt-ridden populace. For these reasons, the prophets suffered abuse, insults, and danger to their lives.

Why did God call upon the prophets at certain periods in Jewish history? A plausible answer is that they were needed at critical times, when the survival of the Jewish people was at stake. The prophetic ministry of Amos, Hosea, and Isaiah coincided with the Assyrian destruction of the Northern Kingdom of Israel in 721 B.C.E.; and Ezekiel's mission took place during the time that the Babylonian army carried off the Jews of Judea into exile in 586 B.C.E.

We may wonder why prophets have not appeared in the modern period. Perhaps our clergy, who preach the importance of obeying God's commandments and the need to receive religious schooling at an early age, are continung the spirit of the ancient prophets.

Belief in resurrection was at one time controversial, but is now among the beliefs of many faiths. The Pharisees embraced it, but the Sadducees and Samaritans rejected it because they found no textual evidence in the Mosaic Law to confirm it. The Pharisees attached great importance to the doctrine of resurrection because they connected it with Divine reward and punishment in the Hereafter on Judgment Day. They also cited Biblical evidence to support their belief that the dead will live again.

In the Hebrew Bible there is indirect evidence for the doctrine of resurrection. For example, the death of the patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,is described in Genesis in words that intimate their reunion with their forefathers in the Hereafter. Each of the patriarchs "was gathered into his people," that is, joined with his forebears. Similarly, God tells Moses: "And when thou has seen it (the Promised Land), thou also shalt be gathered" (Numbers 27:13). Moreover, the Torah asserts God's power to end life and to bring back to life. "I kill and I make alive." (Deuteronomy 32:39).

Some rabbis pointed to the revival of nature in the spring, after the death of foliage in the winter as yet another hint of life after death. Some considered resurrection of the dead so important a doctrine that they included it in the prayer: "Faithful are Thou to grant eternal life to the departed. Blessed are thou, oh Lord, who callest the dead to life everlasting."

In the final analysis, whether we accept our imortality is a matter of our religious faith. This faith not only expresses our instinct for self-preservation but also fortifies our hope for a heavenly reunion with our family that passed on.

Psychotherapists are coming around to the view that religion plays an important role in a person's mental health. In the early 20th century, Sigmund Freud belittled religion as based on miracles, unscientific notions of creation, and a childlike dependence on a protective deity. But Carl Jung, who disagreed, stated that "Religions are psychotherapeutic systems in the most actual meaning of the word, and in the widest measure."

According to the psychiatrist M. Scott Peck, religion includes "an explicit or implicit set of ideas or beliefs as to the essential nature of the world." He reports that his patients view the world in different ways. Some see it as a chaotic place without absolute rules of conduct, so that personal pleasure seems the only worthwhile goal. Others see it as a dog-eat-dog jungle, where only the most cunning and ruthless predators survive. Yet others see it as a Divine creation with strict standards of moral behavior and a just system of reward and punishment.

These religious views of the world influence not only our behavior but also our mental health. For example, if we believe in a chaotic and evil world, devoid of God's concern, we live in a state of fear and anxiety. On the other hand, if we believe in a just and merciful God who cares for us, we have a spiritual foundation for our emotional security. This belief fortifies us against misfortune, illness, and grief so that we can carry on with hope.

Religion can also promote our mental health by investing our lives with meaning and purpose. Of course, love, marriage, parenthood, honest work, and fulfilling careers contribute to a meaningful and purposeful life. Yet we also need moral guidelines for our interpersonal and social relations. The Torah, with its 613 precepts, defines our ethical role in a competititve and materialistic society. The Prophet Micah condensed these precepts when he stated, "It has been told thee, O man, what God requires of thee: only to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with thy God."

However, religion has its positive and negative sides. It can give us emotional security, meaning and purpose, and moral guidance. On the other hand, it can lead to arrogance, bigotry, hatred, and violence when it becomes fanatical. The medieval Crusades killed thousands in the name of Christianity, and the Inquisitors of the Catholic Church enforced the conversion of Spanish and Portugese Jews on pain of expulsion. Furthermore, we know that fanatical Jewish sects squabble with each other and that many Orthodox Jews tend to regard less observant Jews with disdain.

In the mosaic of Jewish history, there was an outpouring of hand-copied books on a variety of Judaic topics during the 12th and 13th centuries. One of these topics was Jewish mysticism, or the Kabbala, and one of the popular books on this topic was the Book of the Devout, or the "Sefer Hasidim," by Judah the Pius. This book included stories about miracles, angels, spirits, devils, and wandering souls. In spite of its wide appeal, however, its uneathly subject-matter made it controversial.

Jewish mysticism may be defined as a spiritual movement originating in Europe during the Medieval period and dealing with the creation of the world and with spiritual creatures such as angels, devils, and the soul after death. The Kabbalistic theory also held that God created the world by releasing Ten Seforim, or spiritual radiations, each with a specific function.

The most popular of the Kabbalistic books was the "Zohar" (Brilliance), which appeared in Spain in 1250. According to legend, it was dictated to Simon ben Yohai, and it revealed the hidden meanings of the Torah. These books, together with many other religious works, inspired medieval Jews to regard themselves as a holy people who were devoted to sustaining their Jewish tradition in an antagonistic Christian Europe.

Although the Kabbala is part of the Jewish tradition, its content is regarded as dangerous for those who misunderstand its purpose, which is "Making the self into a better, more expanded individual, more transcendental, more attuned to the essence and roots of one's soul." In short, it is to entwine heaven and earth and to involve humankind in this spiritual journey.

Whether medieval Jews lived in villages or ghettos, they were never safe from Christian rivalry and hostility after the Council of Nicaea (325 C.E.), which officially separated Jews from Christians. This troubled situation led to outbreaks of physical and verbal anti-Semitism, forcing Jewish communities to defend themselves as best they could. They relied on Holy Scripture and on the Kabbala to maintain their faith in Judaism.

To summarize, Jewish mysticism had its roots in the Torah and appealed to intellectual Jews who were inquisitive about the nature of God and the spiritual creatures that inhabit heaven and earth. The story that three rabbis suffered death while studying the Kabbala served to caution Jews about the danger of pursuing this esoteric subject. Consequently, it is believed that only mature, learned Jews are qualified to study the mysteries of the Kabbala.

Today, the Kabbala no longer remains a subject for study only by "mature, learned Jews." It has entered the Christian world as well and has been taken up by a number of celebrities, the best known, perhaps being Madonna. They also seek answers to troubling questions of this life and the life to come. It is doubtful, however, whether those following superficial quests will suffer the same fate as the three pious rabbis.

Yiddish, which combines German and Hebrew, goes back to the tenth or eleventh century in the eastern part of Germany that borders Poland. At one time, Yiddish, which is also known as "Mamme-Loshen" (mother tongue), was the common language of 12 million Jews. Immigrant Jews brought Yiddish to America, and in the 1920's, Yiddish newspapers like The Forward in New York City sold over 200,000 copies daily. Today, Yiddish is the primary language only of certain Jewish sects.

In Modern times, Yiddish was the preferred language of many Jewish writers, such as Sholem Aleichem, Isaac Leib Peretz, and Isaac Beshevis Singer. It was also the language spoken by the actors and actresses in the Jewish theater. Yiddish has also been taught in some New York City schools of higher education.

In the State of Israel, Jews who spoke Hebrew and those who spoke Yiddish struggled to maintain the popularity of their particular language. Though Hebrew is now the official language of Israel, the Hebraists have become more accepting of Yiddish because of its sentimental value.

Yiddish has contributed many words to the English language: kibitz, chutzpah, maven, meshugga, mensch, mish-mash, shlep, schlemiel, and schlimazel. There is the humorous Yiddish curse: "Soll waxen wie ein ziebele im Erd: Translated, it means you should grow like an onion in the earth (head down, feet up).

In Yiddish, an ignoramus is an apikoros. An ineffectual person is a nebish, a pest is a nudnik, a clumsy person is a schlemiel, an unlucky person is a schlimazel, a righteous Jew is a tzaddik, and an ill-mannered person is a zhlub.

The influence of Yiddish on English also comes through in certain phrases, inversions of sentences, and the humorous use of the prefix schl. Here are some examples: "You should live so long." "I need it like a hole in the head." "He knows from nothing." "A person could go bust." Go hit your head against the wall!" "Wear it in good health." And, "Oedipus schmoedipus, as long as he loves his mother."

Bible Scholars disagree about the identity of the author of Ecclesiastes. Some attribute it to King Solomon, and others are not sure. I don't lose any sleep over this because for me, the text is most important. What makes Ecclesiastes such an interpretive challenge is that the author presents contrasting views of the human condition. He reminds me of Tevya in "Fiddler on the Roof," who views his personal problems as, "On the one hand; but on the other hand."

The Rabbis argued about including Ecclesiastes in the canon of the Bible because of its prevailing tone of pessimism and its neglect of God--except for the conclusion: "The end of the matter, all having been heard: fear God and keep His commandments for this is the whole man; for God shall bring every work into judgment concerning every hidden thing, whether it be good or whether it be evil." This concluding precept probably tilted Ecclesiastes as morally and spiritually within the tradition of Judaism.

The rest of Ecclesiastes, however, is a mixture of the author's personal view of the human condition and his philosophical comments on what he has experienced during his long and kingly life. In the introduction, the author, who calls himself Koheleth and claims to be the son of King David, states his major theme: "Vanity of vanities, saith Koheleth; all is vanity." He devotes the rest of the text to supporting by examples his theme. The immediate question is: what does he mean by "vanity?" Bible scholars have suggested that the word means futility because in the text the author compares it with "a striving after wind."

In developing his arguement, the author describes the pleasure and possessions of his kingship: mirth, fine food, wine, men-servants, maid-servants, herds, flocks, stores of silver and gold, and singers for entertainment. In spite of all these kingly advantages and all that he had accomplished, he concludes that "Behold, all was vanity and striving after wind, and there was no profit under the sun."

I believe that the key to this conclusion is that his kingly pleasures and possessions are materialistic, not moral or spiritual. At some point in his writing, however, the author probably realized that his message was too gloomy, so he wisely recommended that, despite the vanities of pleasure and material possessions, we must take advantage of what life has to offer us: youthful rejoicing, laughter, love, marriage, and the opportunity to achieve our ambition. To me, one of the most optimistic themes is: "Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt find it after many days."

First of all, this precept seems to have less importance than the Ten Commandments because it is not designated as a "Commandment." Yet it is included in Leviticus, together with other Devine rules or principles imposing a particular standard of action or conduct. Secondly, its meaning is somewhat vague because of the word "neighbor." Does "neighbor" mean someone who lives nearby? Someone who lives in the same community? A co-religionist, perhaps, or any human being regardless of his or her religion? The rabbinic interpretation of this word is that it "contains the essence of religion and is applicable in every human relation and towards all men." The advantage of the rabbinic interpretation is that it gives "neighbor" a universal meaning.

The second problem is the word "love." How can we love others the way we love ourselves? We know people who do not love themselves because of their low self-esteem, and we know egoistic people who love themselves so much that they are unbearable. Yet this problem can be resolved if we translate "love" as respect for the life, dignity, and possessions of other people.

The third problem is that the precept seems too idealistic for most people to achieve. We know that most of us are sensitive to being insulted, exploited, or oppressed, and that anger and resentment can easily flare up. Our Heavenly Father, in His paternal wisdom, knew man's emotional weakness even before Cain's killing of Abel. That is why He combines mercy with retributive justice, and why He teaches us in Leviticus how to control our anger and prevent feuds.

Although loving and respecting our fellow man and woman is difficult to achieve, it is absolutely necessary for the sake of interpersonal and international peace and harmony. The self-destructive picture of the world today, with its genocidal wars and revolutions, is frightening and destabilizing. The concept of the "Brotherhood of Man" is in trouble and needs our individual effort to advance peace among ourselves.

It falls to us, then, to accept the responsibility of loving and respecting our fellow human beings if we are to advance beyond our seeming self-involved indifference. Experience will prove that such an attitude is reciprocated by others. Only then will we put an end to man's inhumanity to man.

There must have been a good reason why God endowed the Jews with a sense of humor. Experience teaches that humor can be therapeutic, enabling us to endure troubles, woes, worries, and suffering. We enjoy the blessings of parenthood, for example, yet we can chuckle at this dialog: "How many children do you have?" The reply, "None." The other party continues, "Then what do you do for aggravation?"

How do we define Jewish humor? It is humor that deals with problems, characters, values, and expressions that are distinctively Jewish. Another definition is that a Jewish joke is one that no Gentile can completely understand, and every Jew says he has already heard. To generalize, Jewish humor tends to be self-critical; it pokes fun at snobs, hypocrites, simpletons yentas (gossips), rabbis, and assimilationists.

The self-critical element in a great many Jewish jokes caught the attention of Sigmund Freud, who observed: "I do not know whether there are many other instances of a people making fun to such a degree of its own character." And Martin Grotjahn, a pycholanalyst, explained this self-criticism as a Jewish way of coping with anti-Semitism: "Aggression turned against the self seems to be an essential feature of the truly Jewish joke. It is as if the Jew tells his enemies: 'You don't need to attack us. We can do that ourselves--and even better than you can.'"

In Eastern Europe, Jewish jokes were traditionally told and printed in Yiddish, which made the humor a private matter within Jewish communities. In America, however, Jewish comedians who spoke English had to appeal to both Jews and Gentile audiences, so they had to be sensitive about not antagonizing non-Jews. The result is that Jewish humor in America was made acceptable to both Jews and non-Jews.

Jewish humor now occupies an accepted status in American popular culture. Even Gentile enteratainers occasionally include Jewish material as part of their shtick: Johnny Carson used to refer to his tax accountant as H. & R. Goniff, and his stockbroker as E. F. Shnorrer. Jewish comic writers like Mel Brooks spiced their work with Jewish words; Woody Allen played the humorous role of the anxiety-ridden schlemiel; and Jackie Mason marinates his one-man performances with social criticism, which is so typical of Jewish humor. My favorite is Jacky Mason's "Most people are stupid, and I say that with the greatest respect." Catch the ironic humor there.