GOLDEN VOICES AND MELODIES

I have always been drawn by the beauty of the human voice. Even though I love instrumental music, I find that good male or female voices can reach the innermost recesses of the heart, and allow us to transform ourselves in spiritual ecstasy. Whenever I have an opportunity, I turn to my favorite singers, whether classical or pop, or, for that matter, to western as well as oriental musicians, for a transcendental experience. 

Over the years I have had many favorites. Here below I wish to share with you my three choices. I hope you, too, will find them exhilarating. 

a)    “Morning Has Broken” by Cat Stevens:

This is a hymn that gives thanks for each day. It originally appeared in the “Songs of Praise” (1931), a Christian hymnal, and was popularized by the British-born singer and songwriter Cat Stevens, who now calls himself Yusuf Islam, reaching the No. 1 spot in the musical charts.

b)    “Beklenen Sarki” (in Turkish, ‘The Long Awaited Song”)  by Zeki Muren:

Born in Turkey (1931), this incredible singer became famous for his compelling and sweet voice, precise articulation of exquisite Turkish poetry and flashy appearance (a la Liberace) in his long career (he died in 1996).  When I was young in Istanbul, I did not pay much attention to him, but now I have rediscovered him and realized what a great musician he was. In this love song, he hopes that his beloved will not have other dreams but those directed at him.

\c) “Ah, Perdonna al primo affetto” from “La Clemenza di Tito” by Mozart.

In this short but sweet two-act opera, two lovers sing, each asking the other, “to forgive my former love.” In this version the duet is sung by Elena Xanthoudakis and Rosel Labone. I hope you like it.

Rifat Sonsino

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THE REMARKABLE GROWTH OF REFORM JUDAISM IN SPAIN

I have been going to Spain every year since 2008 in order to help out Bet Shalom in Barcelona, a small nascent Reform congregation, with its programs and religious services. This past June, after ten days in Turkey, Ines and I spent two weeks in Barcelona, taking part in history making activities. 

My daily schedule was full. I officiated at three weddings for temple members, a Bar Mitzvah for an American Jewish family on its way to a Mediterranean cruise, gave two talks at Atid, the other Reform congregation in the city,  lectured in a Skype-type forum on the conversion process to the rest of the progressive congregations in Spain , had numerous meetings with various individuals, led Friday night and Sabbath morning services, and took part in the proceedings of the Bet Din (Religious Court) from London, which represented the European Region of the World Union for Progressive Judaism (WUPJ), and in two days we welcomed 20 individuals as Jews-by-choice (including tevilah, immersion in the ocean). After all these activities, I think I earned the right to have a long long vacation. After all, I am a retired Rabbi. But who could tell?

What made this trip so fascinating is that I witnessed the remarkable growth of Reform Judaism in Spain, and in particular, the creation of a new federation by three Reform synagogues, namely, Bet Shalom and Atid from Barcelona, and Bet Emunah from Asturias. It is expected that shortly other liberal groups from the cities of Seville, Madrid and from the region of Galicia, will join in, thus establishing a strong foundation for the presence of progressive Judaism in Spain within a cooperative structure. I am also delighted that the newly established Reform congregation in Seville has named me its honorary spiritual leader. 

 Friday night service, Barcelona, June 21, 13

There aren’t too many Jews in Spain, maybe 20,000 in the entire country, but Reform Judaism is here to stay.  The creative visionary of this endeavor is Jai Anguita, 42, of Bet Shalom, who has moved earth and sky to bring enthusiasm to many of his fellow Jews and potential Jews, of which there are many in Spain, especially among those who wish to “return” to Judaism because of their families’ association with our faith going back to 1492 when Jews were forcefully expelled from the country or forced to convert.

It is not easy today to be a Jew in Spain. There is a great deal of anti-Semitism, at times even of violent nature. One prospective convert told our Bet Din about the discrimination and physical assaults he experienced because he was wearing a Magen David. Another person told us that she was cut off by her family when she announced that she was going to convert to Judaism. So, we asked her, “You still want to become Jewish?” “Yes,” she responded, “It is in my soul.”

The next phase of Reform Judaism in Spain will require that each congregation be better organized, having good publicity (e.g. Web pages) as well as a sound organizational structure, with election of officers, preparation of realistic budgets, yearly congregational meetings and imaginative fund raising campaigns. Reform Jews in Spain will also need a new and common prayer book for Shabbat and festival services. Realizing that money is always tight in these circumstances, I urge world Jewry to take note and help them out.

As for me, I did as much as I could by actually going to Barcelona and spending a few weeks on location the last few years. From now on I will be available to teach classes through Skype or other media directly from Boston. Now that the European Region of the WUPJ in London considers Spain a priority, I am sure it will continue to provide all the necessary help and services. I am glad I witnessed this historic development since 2008, and consider it a privilege to have had the opportunity to add my own contribution.

Rabbi Rifat Sonsino, Ph.D

July 2013

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TURKEY'S SUMMER OF DISCONTENT

During the month of June, Ines and I spent ten days in Turkey. The main reason for our visit was to attend the wedding party ( of the daughter of a classmate of mine from Law School) that took place in the magnificent French Gardens by the Bosphorus in Istanbul. Before the festivities we flew to Cappadocia for a few days to see the famous rock formations in the middle of Anatolia. It was simply spectacular, with various types of caves and volcanic rocks as well as incredible underground housing that went back to the Hittites in ancient times.  We were lucky with the weather: it was sunny and hot.

We spent most of your time in Istanbul where I grew up. The city is massive with about 17 million people. Traffic is challenging at best. People everywhere. Construction continues without stop. Yet, the Bosphorus still remains as one of the jewels of the world.

Our stay coincided with serious social upheavals in the country. The Prime Minister Recep Tayyib Erdogan, a very popular right-wing politician, promised to take down the Gezi Park, in Taksim (Istanbul), and instead proposed to build another mall, a mosque and Ottoman –style military barracks. In many parts of the world, such issues are usually handled by local planning boards. But not in Turkey and not by this prime minister. Young people, by the thousands, disagreed with his decisions, and took to the streets, shouting, “Government…resign!” The noise of the protesters at night was so loud that we had to ask the hotel, located in Nisantasi, about a 10 minute walk from Taksim, to give us another room facing a back street. 

In reality the social unrest stemmed from the prime minister’s autocratic style: he tells his people what to do and what not to do, including , for example, to have three children. He also prohibited the purchase of alcohol after 10 pm and is leading the country away from its traditional Ataturk-style secularism, replacing it with a structure that is more traditional and more Islamic in its orientation. The reaction of the younger generation was rather mild and peaceful. There were  protests around the country. In Taksim, thousands occupied Gezi Park, where they set up a tent city with a library, free food, a place for animals, and a small museum. 

                       Standing by the barricades at Gezi Park    

 

One morning, we visited the park and talked to some people. I asked them,” How long do you think you can keep up this protest?’ They said “maybe another week.” But the end came quickly, when the police attacked the camp the next morning and evicted all the occupants with brutal force, using tear gas and pepper sprays. Other cities faced the same violence. So far, four people have died and about 5000 were injured. Instead of unifying the people and trying to find a middle ground, the prime minister stood by his ideology and continued to divide further the country. It is too soon to say how the crisis will end.  

We were sad to witness this new escalation, and left the country with broken hearts but with the hope for a peaceful solution. The Turkish people deserve better.

Rifat Sonsino

July, 2013

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WRITING AN INTRODUCTION TO JUDAISM

My new book, Modern Judaism, published by Cognella in Jan. 2013 and available through other venues, is a full introduction to the Jewish customs and ceremonies, the history and basic beliefs, the Jewish-Christian dialogue, and all the major Jewish platforms of our time. Written first as a college text book, it is now available to the general public. 

Writing an introduction comes with its own challenges as to what to include and what to exclude. You would expect that Judaism, as an ancient religion that is well known in the West, does not need another introduction but the fluidity of the literature and the constant changes in our life-style and religious beliefs make it necessary to update the material on a regular basis. My book attempts to meet that need.

In 1961 when I arrived in the United States as a rabbinic student from Turkey, it was much easier to identify who was an Orthodox Jew and who was a Conservative or a Reform Jew. Today, the line of demarcation is not so clear. Even though non-Orthodox movements, which now include the Reconstructionist, Humanist and Renewal, have their own religious platforms, they are general in nature and tend to be inclusive and therefore vague; they do not always reflect the practice in the field. In former years, I could attend a Reform rabbinic convention (CCAR), and know exactly what to expect liturgically and theologically. Today, it includes a mishmash of all types of religious practices and beliefs. More and more, it looks like a bigger divide is emerging in the Jewish world between the Orthodox and the rest of all the non-Orthodox  movements. Modern Judaism discusses all of these religious movements. 

Most previous introductions assumed that the Ashkenazic religious practices determined the core of Judaism, and consequently contained hardly any reference to the rich Sephardic tradition. In my Modern Judaism, I tried to present both points of view on most contentious subjects, such as the various practices regarding what to eat and not to eat during Passover, whether flowers are permitted during funerals, and what is the pattern of naming a child after a living or a dead parent and many others.

In addition to religious practices, it is important to point out that in the realm of religious beliefs, even though we all believe in the existence of One and Unique God, Jewish thinkers have advocated various concepts of God as well as other major religious concepts (e.g., freedom of will, sin, salvation, the efficacy of prayer). Furthermore, we, in the liberal community, need to approach our Sacred Scriptures through critical eyes and not take them as infallible, which they are not. My book highlights these points.

It would have been advantageous to include other subjects in the book, such as, an extensive discussion of critical biblical passages, a more comprehensive analysis of Jewish medieval thought, a full evaluation of modern Jewish approaches to various ethical and medical ethics, but that would have been beyond the scope of an introduction, and I decided to leave them out. I hope my Modern Judaism will whet the appetite of the readers and will lead them to further studies in their chosen fields. I am only opening the door, and if I have been able to excite the curiosity of my readers, I will be happy.

Rifat Sonsino

May 2013

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THE EVIL EYE

THE EVIL EYE

In my home I have a Turkish blue eye charm/bead (called Nazar Boncugu in Turkish) that sits on one of my shelves casting a protective gaze upon the entire house. Does it help? I doubt it, but it does not hurt either.

This is obviously an old superstition found all over the world: an envious glance can bring harm to the person or object. How do you protect yourself against it? You get a blue eye amulet that mirrors back, and stops the harmful look, the so-called, “evil eye.” 

In Hebrew, the evil eye is called ayin hara or en raah (in Yiddish it is “kayn aynhora”). According to the Rabbis, whereas a benevolent eye (“ayin tovah”) is praiseworthy, "an ayin hara, (an evil eye), the evil urge and hatred of another human being take one out of the world.” (Av. 2: 11). According to another, ninety nine people die of an evil eye, and only one through natural causes (BM 107b). You can protect yourself against this malicious curse, by repeating ever so often, beli ayin raah (“without the evil eye” [having power over you]). In a popular Jewish joke, a Jewish patriarch who was on the witness stand was asked by a District Attorney: “How old are you? He answered, “I am, kayn aynhora, eighty one.” Similarly, when counting people, you are expected to say, “Not one,” “Not two, “Not three” etc. in order to avoid the disastrous effects of the evil eye.

This meaning of “evil eye” represents an extension of what the original word for “eye” meant in biblical literature. Ayin, (pl. enayim), simply refers to the physical organ of sight. Whereas, a person with tov ayin (lit. good eye) is considered a “generous person” (Prov. 22: 9), one with ra ayin (lit. evil eye), is “miserly” (Prov. 28: 22). One can have eyne gavhut, a haughty look (Isa. 2: 11), or shah enayim (lit. “lowly eye”) “humility”(Job. 22: 29). Being consumed by an attitude described as raah enekha (lit. an eye set on ill will), simply meant being “mean” to another person (Deut. 15: 9). God’s eyes (eyne YHVH) are placed upon the land of Israel as a promise of protection (Deut. 11: 12). It is not at all clear what the Bible implies when it states that Leah, Jacob’s wife, had “weak eyes” (rakot). (Gen. 29: 17). Did she lack luster (Sarna), or did she have lovely, delicate eyes (Speiser)? 

The Hebrew word, ayin, (pl. ayanot), also means, “spring” (of water). Example: “An angel of the Lord found her [Hagar] by a spring of water (eyn ha-mayim)” (Gen. 16: 7). This may be an extension, maybe a figurative way of speaking of an “eye.” It is interesting to note that in Akkadian, inu(m) means both “eye” and “spring” or “source.” 

The human eye is our window to the universe. What we see is a reflection of our personality and provides a frame of reference for our approach to life. Some see things in color; others consider the world a dark place. Those who find shadows everywhere use amulets and other defense paraphernalia against the corrosive impact of the evil eye. It is, however, better to have a positive attitude in life and face the world with optimism, courage and determination. In the long run, the talismans do not work.

Rifat Sonsino

ELOHIM- ONE GOD OR MANY GODS?

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

ELOHIM- ONE GOD OR MANY GODS?

בְּרֵאשִׁית, בָּרָא אֱלֹהִים

In Hebrew, for masculine singular nouns, plurality is indicated by the ending im. Thus, for example, yeled “boy” becomes yeladim “boys.”

The Bible uses many terms for God, such as El, Shaddai, YHVH, Elohim--they are all in the singular except for Elohim, which is in the plural. The question is this: how can God, conceived as being the only divinity in the universe—hence, monotheism- have a plural ending? Ancient Rabbis had to deal with this problem and said that the reason for the plural in Elohim is because of all the attributes (e.g. merciful, caring, loving) that are ascribed to one God. On the other hand, is it possible that the term Elohim is a vestige of polytheism in biblical Israel? I would say, yes. 

To test whether or not the editors of the Bible considered Elohim a plural or a singular noun, we need to find whether the verbs attached to this name, are in the singular or in the plural. If they are in the plural, we would know that in the past Israelites believed that Elohim referred to many gods. If the verb is in the singular, then we would have to conclude that the term underwent a change, and a plural noun was now considered singular. We have an example of that in English, too. The word “media” is the plural of “medium.” Yet, we often say, “the media says,” not “the media say.” “Media” is now viewed as singular.

Let’s test the use of the word Elohim in the Bible: In the overwhelming cases, the word Elohim is accompanied by a singular verb. For example (see Hebrew title above): the Hebrew Bible begins with b’reshit bara elohim, “When God began to create…”-here the verb bara (“created”) is in the singular. That means the editor of this passage conceived of Elohim as one God. (For other examples, see, Gen. 1: 3; 22: 1; 25: 11; 50:24, and many others). 

However, there are a few passages where Elohim is accompanied by a plural verb: when Abraham says to king Abimelekh, “When God (Elohim) made me wander…(hit’u) (Gen. 20: 13) ,” the verb “wander” is in the plural. Similarly, we read, “It was there that God (Elohim) revealed (niglu) himself to him [Jacob]” (Gen. 35: 7). Here, too, “revealed” is in the plural, implying the existence of many gods. (For other examples, see Ex. 22:8; Deut. 5:23; II Sam. 7: 23 and others). The medieval commentator Rashi was aware of this problem but tried to solve it by saying, “all references to godliness and authority are in the plural.” I would argue that these are vestiges of ancient polytheism that crept into the text. 

There is no doubt in my mind that at some point in biblical times, Elohim was considered in polytheistic terms, “gods.” A good example is found in the Book of the Covenant, in one of the laws dealing with debt-slavery. According to a sub-section of this law, if the slave wishes to remain with his master for the rest of his life, because “he loves” him, then his master “shall take him before the gods (Elohim)” (Ex. 21: 5) and pierce his ear with an awl. Traditional Jewish commentators say that here the word Elohim means “judges.” So, the owner is taking his slave to the court. Some modern commentators believe that the reference is to the local sanctuary where the master presents his slave before God, perhaps, for an ordeal. For me, this texts simply means that the master brings his slave before the household gods, hence Elohim (see, for instance the reference to the household gods that Rachel had when she left her father’s house, the terafim, Gen.31: 34), and then pierces his ear at the doorpost of his own house with an awl. 

This short analysis shows that biblical Israel went through a period of transition from polytheism to monolatry (“there are many gods but only one god for us”) and finally to monotheism (“there is only one God”). The process continued in medieval times into the modern. Old God concepts are not working any more. We need to search for the best explanation of what God means today in order to meet the needs of our own time.

(For details about God concepts in Judaism, see my book, Finding God (with Daniel Syme), NY: URJ Press, 2002, or, The Many Faces of God , NY:URJ, 2004, or , more recently, “What is God’s Real Name?” in my book, Did Moses Really Have Horns? NY: URJ Press, 2009, 12-24).

Rifat Sonsino

LIFE AFTER RETIREMENT

 The year 2013 marks the 10th anniversary of my retirement from the congregational rabbinate. The transition has been a smooth one but not without its pitfalls.

 

When I was a congregational Rabbi at Temple Beth Shalom, Needham, MA where I spent 23 years at the head of a mid-size synagogue (c. 550 families), I was at the center of my temple’s cultural, spiritual and social life; I had a large office with a window, a “sacred spot” in the parking lot reserved for me alone, and secretaries and office personnel who carried out my directives. Things changed after my retirement. I teach at Boston College (BC) on a part-time basis.  I write a blog once in a while. A few months ago I published a new book, an introduction to Judaism in Spanish (Vivir Como Judio), and am now in the process of finishing another one on the Ten Commandments. For the last eight years, my wife and I have been going to Barcelona, Spain for a short period of time in order to help out a small liberal congregation that cannot afford to pay a Rabbi. With all that, I still have some time to spend with my children and grandchildren. 

Being a part-time faculty is, on the one hand, exhilarating but also a humbling experience. I have been teaching at BC for the last 12 years. In the past, I taught electives on Bible and various Judaica subjects. Now, because of budget cuts, I am teaching only two parallel courses on Comparative Religion (Judaism and Christianity). For the academic year 2013-14, I was promised just one. Most of my students are sharp, inquisitive, and do well. The administration is supportive of what I do and I have a few good friends on the faculty. Having retired from the congregational rabbinate in 2003, being a “professor” now is one of the main paths I have carved for myself as I seek purpose and meaning at this stage of my life. (For the record, I am 74).

However, as a part-time teacher, I am required to teach only what the full-time faculty does not want to teach. I am poorly paid, receive no benefits, have an inside office that I share with a colleague, and I, like any other employee of the College, have to pay for a parking spot wherever I can find one. But I have adjusted to this change, simply because I am able to do what I love best, namely, to teach, and seem to be good at it. Recently I had an unpleasant experience at BC that reminded me of my new status.

                                         Boston College

 I teach on Mondays and Wednesdays in the afternoon.  This past February, on a Monday morning, I arrived around 11.30 am and drove to the covered garage, looking for a parking spot.  Could not find one. I went around and around to no avail. In desperation, I drove up to the roof where a number of cars were already parked, left my Nissan and walked to my office. After teaching my classes, I returned to the garage but noticed that a ticket was placed on the dashboard. Not a warning, mind you, but a whopping $75 traffic ticket! I could not believe it. I thought if BC wants the faculty to teach, the least it can do is to provide easy parking opportunities. Upset, I went to the police station and was told that according to a new rule, one needs to buy a special permit for that part of the garage. I did not know that. They suggested I appeal. The next day, I sent an email, claiming my ignorance of the new rule and promising not to do it again. I really felt devalued.

Good news: my appeal was granted today. Phew!

Rifat Sonsino, Ph.D. Rabbi Emeritus

March 2013