The Curse of the Lazy Nose
"Yonatan, can you smell that?"
"Smell what?"
"The smell, Yonatan. It is the smell of rain. The rain is coming, Yonatan. Can you smell that?"
"If you say so."
Remember that conversation ("Please Sir, May I Have Some More... Israelis!", December 4)? Well, since then, it hasn't rained. Now, I haven't minded; I'm not a farmer who needs the rain, and I enjoy going about without a jacket. But evidently, the situation has gotten so bad in the past eight days that we are holding a special Ma'ariv tomorrow night to pray for rain. Has it been that my inability to smell the rain actually caused a draught? I think my nose may be cursed; after all, the only odors I can smell are cows, farts, cow farts, and my mommy's chicken soup (note: that last one is excluded from the "cursed" list). And, those odors have to be very strong. As far as I know, rain is not on that list. Is it something I said? It's not good to have no rain in Israel.
Two topics I discussed tonight with Ezra over dinner:
1. Mentors- at this yeshiva, it has been hard for me to find a mentor, someone in whom I can confide, ask questions, and talk about important issues. Most of the rabbis are hard to connect with: part of it is that most of them don't live here, and then there is the whole cultural gap with the Israeli ones. I'm going to try to talk with Rav Bigman, but I'm not holding my breath; while he is a wise man, it is often hard to comprehend his brilliance- either because it is too brilliant, or it manifests itself in a very scattered and tangential manner.
Such a lack of mentors, of a person I can latch onto for advice, is hard on me. At Shalhevet, there were a few good teachers in whom I always felt I could confide. Here, I feel that I am keeping a lot of what I need to confide pent up inside of me. Ezra told me that his confidant is Aryeh the kolel guy; I am thinking about talking to one of the American kolel guys, but I'm not sure if that is the path for me. While they are great guys, down-to-earth, modern, and knowledgable, they are also relatively young, guys who haven't had as much experience in the real world (that is, outside "the bubble," as Ezra calls it, that is Ma'aleh Gilboa). Then again, if I can't find a way to connect with a rabbi, I may try talking to one of them. Stay tuned.
2. The Answers- this is one that is just starting to get to me. Part of what makes Ma'aleh Gilboa great is its openness, its love of the questions and the process and the freedom to decide for yourself. But at a certain point, don't you want a bottom line? I know I do. I still love the way we learn for ourselves how a certain halacha came about, but isn't knowing the actual halacha equally important? Just knowing a set of rules for daily life? I mean, there will be times in my adult life where I will be confronted by a halachic issues and say to myself "what do I do here?" Most times, I would want to know the specific answer, or know that I can go to a certain book and see the answer in black and white. There are certain instances, of course, that are more complicated. But there are so many simple rules that I could just sit down and learn. The Jewish Rulebook, if you will.
I'm not saying that the process is quite important; on the contrary, I believe knowing how a halacha evolves is often essential to understanding why you do a halacha to begin with. But I also think that a person will not always have the time to do the whole complicated process every time he wants to know "how do I kasher a spoon?" That is why a lot of people go to rabbis, yes; but I want to have a substantial background in halacha as well as in the process.
I feel that at the yeshiva that the answers are on a more self-help basis. I feel the essence of the questions mentality most during Rav Elisha's shiur, when he will present all sorts of factors and questions and opinions, but fail to present a bottom-line halacha. It's like my former math classes: "show all work" was important for credit, but so too was a final answer, neatly boxed for the grader to see.
To remedy this, I started to learn some of Maimonidies' "Mishna Torah," a rulebook, I think. The problem is that it is hard for me to learn it alone, and I'm making very slow, meticulous progress. I may begin "The Mishna Brura," a more modern commentary on Rav Yosef Caro's "Shulchan Aruch" soon; let's hope that helps.
Understanding the halachic process is essential to living life as a modern and observant Jew, but not more important than knowing the clear-cut rules and being able to follow them.
More later.
"Smell what?"
"The smell, Yonatan. It is the smell of rain. The rain is coming, Yonatan. Can you smell that?"
"If you say so."
Remember that conversation ("Please Sir, May I Have Some More... Israelis!", December 4)? Well, since then, it hasn't rained. Now, I haven't minded; I'm not a farmer who needs the rain, and I enjoy going about without a jacket. But evidently, the situation has gotten so bad in the past eight days that we are holding a special Ma'ariv tomorrow night to pray for rain. Has it been that my inability to smell the rain actually caused a draught? I think my nose may be cursed; after all, the only odors I can smell are cows, farts, cow farts, and my mommy's chicken soup (note: that last one is excluded from the "cursed" list). And, those odors have to be very strong. As far as I know, rain is not on that list. Is it something I said? It's not good to have no rain in Israel.
Two topics I discussed tonight with Ezra over dinner:
1. Mentors- at this yeshiva, it has been hard for me to find a mentor, someone in whom I can confide, ask questions, and talk about important issues. Most of the rabbis are hard to connect with: part of it is that most of them don't live here, and then there is the whole cultural gap with the Israeli ones. I'm going to try to talk with Rav Bigman, but I'm not holding my breath; while he is a wise man, it is often hard to comprehend his brilliance- either because it is too brilliant, or it manifests itself in a very scattered and tangential manner.
Such a lack of mentors, of a person I can latch onto for advice, is hard on me. At Shalhevet, there were a few good teachers in whom I always felt I could confide. Here, I feel that I am keeping a lot of what I need to confide pent up inside of me. Ezra told me that his confidant is Aryeh the kolel guy; I am thinking about talking to one of the American kolel guys, but I'm not sure if that is the path for me. While they are great guys, down-to-earth, modern, and knowledgable, they are also relatively young, guys who haven't had as much experience in the real world (that is, outside "the bubble," as Ezra calls it, that is Ma'aleh Gilboa). Then again, if I can't find a way to connect with a rabbi, I may try talking to one of them. Stay tuned.
2. The Answers- this is one that is just starting to get to me. Part of what makes Ma'aleh Gilboa great is its openness, its love of the questions and the process and the freedom to decide for yourself. But at a certain point, don't you want a bottom line? I know I do. I still love the way we learn for ourselves how a certain halacha came about, but isn't knowing the actual halacha equally important? Just knowing a set of rules for daily life? I mean, there will be times in my adult life where I will be confronted by a halachic issues and say to myself "what do I do here?" Most times, I would want to know the specific answer, or know that I can go to a certain book and see the answer in black and white. There are certain instances, of course, that are more complicated. But there are so many simple rules that I could just sit down and learn. The Jewish Rulebook, if you will.
I'm not saying that the process is quite important; on the contrary, I believe knowing how a halacha evolves is often essential to understanding why you do a halacha to begin with. But I also think that a person will not always have the time to do the whole complicated process every time he wants to know "how do I kasher a spoon?" That is why a lot of people go to rabbis, yes; but I want to have a substantial background in halacha as well as in the process.
I feel that at the yeshiva that the answers are on a more self-help basis. I feel the essence of the questions mentality most during Rav Elisha's shiur, when he will present all sorts of factors and questions and opinions, but fail to present a bottom-line halacha. It's like my former math classes: "show all work" was important for credit, but so too was a final answer, neatly boxed for the grader to see.
To remedy this, I started to learn some of Maimonidies' "Mishna Torah," a rulebook, I think. The problem is that it is hard for me to learn it alone, and I'm making very slow, meticulous progress. I may begin "The Mishna Brura," a more modern commentary on Rav Yosef Caro's "Shulchan Aruch" soon; let's hope that helps.
Understanding the halachic process is essential to living life as a modern and observant Jew, but not more important than knowing the clear-cut rules and being able to follow them.
More later.
posted by Yoni Bain | 1:26 PM
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