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10 HASHALOM December
2016 / January 2017
December
2016 / January 2017
HASHALOM
11
BUBKES
The Second Oldest Profession
Ah, December! Tis the season, and our windowsill is permanently
glowing with the cellophane candles my kids made out of toilet-roll
inserts when they were small (okay, small-
er
). Come the festival of
Channukah
later this month, we will burn the real candles – one
added each day for eight days – and sing
Maoz Tsur
with all the
glee and phonetic license of preschoolers (my six-year-old still
thinks
“az egg-mor”
is a request for seconds of breakfast).
Channukah
is one of my favourite
chaggim
. Not only is it one of
the most fun and cheerful holidays, and an excuse to eat all the
deep-fried foods I guiltily crave all year, but the kids love it as much
as I do. Because it involves fire. Lots of fire. And let’s face it: little
boys are at heart pyromaniacs. Okay let’s be completely honest:
even grown-up boys are at heart pyromaniacs. And most of us girls
too. There’s something primal about fire – the way it dances and
breathes and is so irresistible and yet untouchable. Like our very
souls. (That’s why, in Judaism, a flame is symbolic of a soul and
many have the custom to light candles in memory of the departed.)
My kids are drawn to the
Channukah
candles like moths to… okay,
you get the picture.
Since I’ve become a mother,
Channukah
has
taken on new meaning for me. You might say
that the Festival of Lights has enlightened me as a parent. It’s an
annual opportunity to teach the littlies critical life lessons (hands off
the
channukiah
; stop, drop and roll; the fire extinguisher is not a
toy; etc). Perhaps more significantly, though, it’s an opportunity to
teach them about the importance of teachers. And here I use the
term in its broadest sense, as parents, grandparents, rabbis and
friends are all valuable teachers.
Under the cruel reign of Antiochus IV (despot
du jour
when the
Channukah
story took place) Jews were forbidden to learn Torah
and practice religious rituals. Our heritage was under threat.
Only through the courageous efforts of Judah – note the elegant
symbolism of his name – and his Maccabees were we able to win
back our right to live according to our values. But even through
the darkest times of our history where we were officially prohibited
from learning Torah, courageous teachers risked their lives to do it
anyway. The wisest have always known: without learning, we are
nothing.
And how about a spot of philology to go with our philosophy?
Lexically speaking,
Channukah
contains the same
shoresh
(grammatical root) as the word
Chinuch
– the Hebrew word for
education. (
Chinuch
earns its guttural finale because that’s what
happens to the Hebrew letter
caf
when you stick it at the end
of a word.)
Now we all know that the story of
Channukah
is about the
Maccabees and the miracle of the oil that burnt for eight days so
the Jewish people could make more to rededicate their destroyed
temple. At face value it doesn’t have much to do with chalkboards
or year-end exams or interactive smart-pads or guest lectures from
the school psychologist. So what does this
chag
have to do with
education? Sure, every festival
teaches
us something, but that
would be a cop-out of an answer, I believe. (Unless I decide to use
that in another column. Then I will hereby retract my statement
about the cop-out.)
With
Channukah,
it goes deeper than that. The direct translation
of this word is inauguration or dedication. The holy temple had to
be inaugurated once more after being vandalized. So what’s the
chup
with
chinuch
? Education inaugurates a person to intellectual,
even
moral
, maturity. Good teachers display the most admirable
kind of dedication (they certainly aren’t in it for the money, that I
can promise you).
And now for some more Hebrew etymology.
Fasten your seatbelts, kids, it’s gonna be a
riveting ride! The
Torah
is our life guide. A
morah
is a teacher. A
horah
is a parent (and a
lively folk dance, but we’ll put that aside for the moment). Anyone
spotting a pattern here? They all share the same root, because their
purposes in life are aligned. Teachers and parents help to transmit
values – mostly found in the Torah, God’s gift to us. Another word
worth noting is
yorah
, Hebrew for shoot, as in the context of bows
and arrows. What’s that got to do with teachers and parents and
the
Torah
? It’s the action they take, transferring knowledge and
values from one generation to the next, shooting wisdom across
dynastic lines.
Education is the cornerstone of Judaism, but it’s not just for kids.
Pirkei Avot
(Ethics of the Fathers) advises every one of us to “make
yourself a teacher and get yourself a friend”. That’s because
learning is as important as friendship. One grows the mind, the
other grows the soul. Further, the deliberately ambiguous “make
yourself a teacher” is as profound in the original Hebrew, for we
are all capable of being teachers as well as learners. Perhaps that’s
why teaching qualifies as, arguably, the second oldest profession.
So there, I hope I’ve taught you something.
Chag Channukah
Sameach.
May your soul keep burning, and your mind keep
learning. Until next time.
With thanks to Dr Issy Fisher – truly one of the greatest teachers –
for pointing out the etymological nuances.
By Lauren Shapiro
Jewish genius is in danger
By: Shmuel Rosner - Ynet
From the mid19th century until today, Jews have been
disproportionately represented in terms of success; why
is this, what is the cause, and how can this advantage be
maintained in the future?
The important, trailblazing composer Arnold Schoenberg returned
to his Jewish roots in 1933. He was born a Jew and converted
to Lutheranism for many years. He then went through a period of
doubt and finally took a decision - the rise to power of the Nazis
in Germany assuredly aided him in this. At his return ceremony to
Judaism, his witnesses were Dr. David Marianoff, the stepson-in-
law of Albert Einstein, and the acclaimed painter Marc Chagall.
Composer Gustav Mahler converted to Catholicism so that he
could be the director of the Vienna Court Opera. He married a non-
Jewish woman and was laid to rest by a Catholic priest. However,
anti-Semites continue to claim that his music is “Jewish music,”
just like they said of Schoenberg’s music, and just as they said of
Einstein’s physics.
The world has seen a large number of Jews succeed over the
last 150 years, especially in proportion to the general population.
They have succeeded in art, in winning Nobel prizes, as musical
composers, and as philosophers, amongst many other fields.
How many Jews have reached these apices of success in modern
society? The answer is: Depends on who’s counting.
Should one count thosewhoweren’t raised Jewish, such as Karl Marx?
Should Marx not be counted, but Mahler—a convert to Christianity—
be considered a Jews? What about Schoenberg, who left the religion
and then came back? Should only those who remained Jewish their
entire lives be counted, such as Einstein and Chagall?
Why are there so many exceptional Jews?
This is a very petty question. However, behind it lies a much deeper,
and perhaps more interesting question. Given the small number of
Jews in the world, and the fact that they are overly represented
when it comes to being at the top of their fields, the question must
be asked not why, but what makes the Jews so exceptional?
If Einstein’s physics was “Jewish” and Mahler’s music was “Jewish,”
then it seems that one can come to a very interesting conclusion:
One doesn’t need to be an active Jew to have the “Jewish gift of
excellence.”
Marx grew up in a household completely disconnected from
Judaism. Einstein came from a family which, while it identified as
Jewish, didn’t practice much. Mahler converted and left Judaism,
and Schoenberg didn’t produce music any less extraordinary
during his foray into Christianity.
Therefore, it’s clear that living a Jewish lifestyle is not the catalyst
for Jewish exceptionalism.
So what is it? Well, there are several hypotheses.
One of these hypotheses relates to the Jewish custom of being
literate and the appreciation of studying for the pursuit of knowledge.
There is also the fact that,due to the unique circumstances Jews
have found themselves in while in the Diaspora, Jews simply had
to work harder to succeed, as they were considered “foreigners”
wherever they resided.
There is also the fact that there are Jewish genes, a result of Jews
who kept their Judaism and refused to intermarry. This may have
caused a genetic mutation which leads to a higher propensity for
genius. Although this last theory may be a cause for anti-Semitism
and racism, it is still a valid theory and must be discussed.
But still, no matter how one connects the characteristics and their
probable causes, the results are the same: From the mid-19th
century to today, Jews have shown to be exceptional, especially
in proportion to their numbers. Jews have succeeded no matter if
they grew up in a religious or completely assimilated household,
and succeeded no matter if they themselves identified as Jews, or
tried to completely shake off the label of “Jew.”
Mendelssohn as a parable
While this sudden blossoming of Jews in the world of culture indeed
seems like a trend, all of these examples should be looked at in
the context of what was going on at that time; if they were living
amongst non-Jews, if they were living during a time of political and
civil unrest, and if they were living in a place where their creativity
could flourish, amongst other factors.
But through it all, Jews were considered Jewish based on their
heritage, and there was nothing they could do to change this.
For instance, philosopher Moses Mendelssohn was Jewish, yet
his grandson, composer Felix Mendelssohn—who converted and
became a devout Christian—was always considered a Jew by his
contemporaries, such as Richard Wagner.
Not much is left
Jews in Israel today don’t live in a country where they are a
minority, and have a completely different culture than 19th-century
European or 20th-century American Jewry. In fact, their culture is
much more similar to other nations with diasporas who recently
gained statehood after many generations without.
And the Jews in the Diaspora themselves have changed: While
they don’t convert to get ahead—there’s no reason to do so in
this day and age—their cultural distinctiveness is growing fainter.
The same goes with biological continuity, which is rapidly being
assaulted by intermarriage.
The disturbing conclusion
In other words: If the Jews need to be different to be smart, then
they’re already less different. If they need to marry Jews, then
they’re also doing that less.
Half of those living in Israel don’t deal with the non-Jewish world. Half
of those living in the Diaspora are not persecuted and discriminated
against. This means that all of the explanations discussed until
now may have been correct hypotheses in determining what made
Jews so successful in the past, but they’re not suitable now or for
the future. They don’t guarantee that Jews—if they once were
smarter—will be also be smarter in the future.
This conclusion is disturbing for anyone who is counting on Jewish
minds to create and invent, and anyone who is counting on the fact
that Jews will be able to put themselves in a better position vis-à-
vis other peoples and communities in the future. The Jews are a
small nation, at times vulnerable. The few advantages that Jews
have must be cultivated, not abandoned.
Therefore, guideposts for action must be drawn from that worrying
conclusion: fostering excellence, insisting on literacy, a pinch of
cultural elitism, keeping an open mind to the wider world without
giving up familial tribalism. Provided that the Jewish state doesn’t
make the Jews less smart.
Shmuel Rosner is the author of the Hebrew-language book
The Jews: 7 Frequently Asked Questions. The seventh chapter
addresses the question, “Is there such a thing as Jewish genius?
”
JEWISH WORLD