Rabbi Diamond's Monthly Columns in our Local Jewish Monthly LChayim

August 2011

Of the roughly 195 countries in the world, 137 have outlawed the death penalty. The United States is the only Western democracy that practices legal executions, placing us in the company of Iran, China and Saudi Arabia.

Israel generally does not impose the death penalty. The only one that Israel ever imposed was on Adolph Eichmann in 1962 in accordance with a 1954 law it passed concerning those find guilty of genocide and crimes against humanity.

One of the reasons Israel does not practice capital punishment is based up long standing Jewish law in this matter. Although the Torah does command executions for 36 different offenses, in practice the rabbinic rules of evidence made convictions nearly impossible. Not only were 2 separate eye witness to the actual commission of the crime required; another 2 witness who warned the perpetrator in advance regarding the legal consequences of the crime also had to be produced and separately interrogated.

That is why it is stated in the Babylonian Talmud (Maqqot 7a): “A court that effects an execution once in 70 years is branded a ‘killer court!’”

Another significant way system of justice differs from ours is that Israel does not use a jury to try any case, no matter how serious the crime. In fact, America’s use of 12 random legally untrained individuals to impose even the most severe of punishments is antithetical to the traditional Jewish approach to criminal justice. It’s also not the practice in most countries that are not based upon the British legal system.

There are a number of reasons Israel does not use the jury system. One is that Israel understands that is has a very diverse population in so many ways. Jews, Moslem and Christians, Easterners and Westerners, religious and secular, making the notion or forming a homogeneous “jury of peers” challenging in the extreme.

Beneath Israel’s unique sociology that makes juries unworkable lies a deeper and more fundamental reason for Israel rejecting their use. We Jews have always placed wise and learned sages at the heart of our administration of justice, and regard the unlearned hoi polloi (in Hebrew, the “Ahm Ha’arets”) with a strong measure of distrust and even disdain. The idea of trusting any part of the legal system to them would seem foolhardy and dangerous.

In our American legal system there is a well-known adage: ““If you're innocent, ask for trial by judge. If you're guilty, ask for a jury!” This is a tacit admission that American juries are a very blunt instrument when used to dissect the truth and the law, a position that Jewish justice would solidly endorse.

July 2011

It’s often hard taking a step back and looking at things rationally and objectively. This is doubly true when it comes to religion. As one wag noted; “Religion is what I believe- superstition is what the others guys believe!” It’s easy for us to point out what we consider to be the superstition and irrationality in other religions, but it’s not so easy when it comes to our own.

I’ve found this especially to be the case when it comes to the Brit Milah, a.k.a., the “Bris”. We Jews tend to regard tattoos and certain piercings to be forms of prohibited mutilations (technically, Jews with ornamental tattoos cannot be interred in orthodox cemeteries!), based upon the Torah verse “"You shall not make gashes in your flesh for the dead, or incise any marks on yourselves: I am the Lord" (Leviticus 19:28). Yet, in a seeming paradox, we compel circumcision, a more radical procedure, upon male Jews.

In the vast majority of cases, infant circumcision is not a medical necessity, and we Jews have never regarded it as such. In fact, up until modern times, it was a medically dangerous procedure, since it often caused infection and death. The traditional prayers recited at the Bris reflect this, often calling for divine protection for the child. Never-the-less, there is a very deep cultural drive among our people to practice this religious ritual, even in families that follow virtually none of the other fundamental Halachic requirement, such as Kashrut and Sabbath restrictions.

As a rabbi charged with enabling Jewish observance while at the same time promoting rational, ethical behavior, the Bris has always posed a special challenge for me. I prefer to follow the Hippocratic guideline “to abstain from doing harm.” If the Jewish parents of a newborn male want a Bris for their infant, I direct them to a local Jewish pediatrician and join them in his or her office to handle the Jewish ritual part of the procedure. I treat Bris as an elective surgical procedure. Afterwards, they can go home and serve the bagels and lox to extended family and friends.

June 2011

I suspect the question I am most often asked concerns an afterlife. The way it is usually phrased is something like this: “What does Judaism say happens to you when you die?”

First off, I generally answer that there is no such thing as “Judaism’. The term didn’t exist until the end of the 18^th century, and is a translation of the German word “Judentums”. It was invented by the German academics that needed a term for our religion that they could use in their comparative religion courses.

The term Judaism suggests that we there is a set list of religious doctrines that define the religious beliefs of the Jewish people around the world and over the millennia. In fact there isn’t. Aside from a belief that God is one, there is a vast range of Jewish teachings and doctrines that reflect the many centuries and countless lands in which we have resided.

Accordingly, the Jewish people have entertained a broad range of concepts regarding an afterlife. The Bible suggests an underworld called Sheol into which all souls descend; a place of silent, dreamlike repose. Then came the idea of reincarnation, when, “at the end of time”, we would awaken from a deep sleep to find ourselves restored to our own bodies. Soon afterwards notions of Heaven (Gan Eden) and Hell (Gehinom) crept into our religious thinking.

It is safe to say that most contemporary Jews do not entertain a clearly defined concept of life after death. While many Jews have a hazy idea that there is something after we die that will allow us to be with our loved ones, their actions in this world have very little to do with an idea of reward and punishment after death.

Generally we Jews emphasize the role of memory when it comes to our immortality. Our intuition is that being remembered has something to do with our immortality, and that the legacy of our actions in this life lives after us. That is why we recite remembrance prayers (Yizkor) on our 4 most important holy days, and enshrine the day of a loved one’s death with the recitation of Qaddish and the kindling of a memorial candle.

My personal beliefs in the matter are decidedly Maimonidean. A thousand years ago, the sage Moses ben Maimon, the Rambam, attempted to rationally explain his religious concepts using the teaching of Aristotle, the accepted scientific authority of his day. The Rambam held that is up to each individual to cultivate an evolved soul through the pursuit of knowledge. Once that soul reaches the highest level (madraygah) of human perfection, it connects with the metaphysical and gains the gift of prophecy in this life and then immorality.

In a similar vein, I believe that we are born with the seed of a soul, and must spend our lives cultivating it through learning and compassion in order for it to fully blossom and bear the fruit of eternal life. If, however, we chose to live like ignorant beasts, our fate will be the same as theirs.

May 2011

This month’s Federation Holocaust Memorial service prompted me to think of a famous passage from the Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Yoma 9b concerning an earlier Jewish tragedy, Rome’s burning of the Great Temple in Jerusalem in 70 C.E.. This is how it reads:

But why was the second Sanctuary destroyed, seeing that in its time they were occupying themselves with Torah, [observance of] precepts, and the practice of charity? Because therein prevailed hatred without cause. That teaches you that groundless hatred is considered as of even gravity with the three sins of idolatry, immorality, and bloodshed together. And [during the time of] the first Sanctuary did no groundless hatred prevail? Surely it is written: ‘They are thrust down to the sword with my people; smite therefore upon my thigh’, and R. Eleazar said: This refers to people who eat and drink together and then thrust each other through with the daggers of their tongue!

This iconic passage reminds us what we are taught in the Book of Proverbs (17:1): “Better a dry crust eaten in peace than a house filled with feasting--and conflict!”

Over time in our own lives we have come to embrace the wisdom of “forgive, forget and get on with your life!” Those who can’t or won’t become remain disfigured by this “hatred without cause”, known in Hebrew as “sin’at hinam”. It’s the stuff that pulls apart families, communities and even countries.

Certainly this “sin’at hinam” is paralyzing our government, preventing it from moving our nation forward to a happier place. Animosity and loathing simply have no place in a healthy individual or community, since it accomplishes nothing good. We Jews who look deeply into the Holocaust’s abyss have a profoundly personal reason for not branding the “other” a pariah, since that labeling was the necessary precursor to the “Final Solution”.

Long ago our Sages of blessed memories taught that when the Israelites and even the angels rejoiced as the Egyptians drowned in the sea, the Holy One rebuked them, saying: “Shut Up! How dare you celebrate when My children, My creations, are drowning in the sea?!” (see Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Megillah 10b).

To be a “mensch” literally mean to be a “human being”. The beginning and end of “menschlichkeit” is to embrace the essential humanity of all of fellow creatures, looking past yesterday’s and even today’s narrow conflicts to embrace our truest and most fundamental connections.

Otherwise any ritualized remembrance of the Holocaust is lip service at best, and, at worst, the purest hypocrisy!

April 2011

During last month’s Israelfest, we handed out hundreds of invitations to our 2^nd night Community Free Seder on Tuesday, April 19. More than once the recipients remarked: “Is it really free?” When we cheerfully assured them that it really was, inevitably they would follow up with “But how can you do that!?”

We love that question, since it gives us a chance to share with them what our synagogue is all about- not really something new and experimental, but, rather, a throwback to the way things used to be in the “Old Country”.

Before the “American experience”, Jews who lived in small towns and villages came together to establish synagogues out of a need to gather in prayer and study. You didn’t belong to the synagogue- the synagogue belonged to you as a part of the village. People did what they could to help sustain the synagogue; those who could contributed funds, but, more likely than not, they contributed their labor and goods, often building the home of the synagogue with their own hands and materials.

In the larger towns and cities, the “parnassim” (wealthy benefactors) erected the synagogue buildings for the community of worshippers. Their rabbis and “shamashim” often subsisted on voluntary donations, although in some instances in Western Europe they were supported by the governments.

For us at our Community Free Synagogue, this is not merely a nostalgic memory of a less pecuniary time in the religious life of our people. We decided to revive the “village synagogue”, and for more than 5 years have been enjoying its simple pleasures.

One of the greatest of these pleasures is fulfilling the ancient mitzvah of “hakhnasat orhim”, literally “bringing in the wayfarer,” but more generally meaning “hospitality.” Since this a vital part of our mission of “Prayer, Study and Benevolent Acts”, there is no limit to the energy and enthusiasm we bring to it, as we are taught in at the beginning of the very first Mishnah of the “Sha”s” (The 6 Volumes of Mishnah):

These are the things that have no measure:

The Peah of the field, the first-fruits, the appearance [at the Temple in Jerusalem on Pilgrimage Festivals], benevolent acts, and the study of the Torah.

This is why our seder, like everything else we do, is completely free, and why we all work as hard as we can without any consideration other than fulfilling the mitzvah! We would be eternally grateful if you could help us in this by joining us at our 2^nd Night Seder this year. The most wonderful adornment at any table is a guest!

February 2011

I just finished working up my 2010 I.R.S. income tax forms and was initially astonished to discover that the schedule said I didn’t owe any Federal tax this year!

Now I am not a poor person, and live quite comfortably in a fine home in an upscale country club, drive a snazzy sports car, and want for nothing materially. But considering a not-too-terrible loss on one stock, my home loan interest expenses, real-estate tax and charitable deductions, and the fact that the rabbi’s pension I receive from The Rabbinical Pension Board and the parsonage allowance from the Community Free Synagogue are not taxable, it more than easily offset the modest taxable income I derived from teaching 6 courses at Florida Gulf Coast University last year!

Then I remembered my mother’s brother, my Uncle Gerald. He was a dentist, and behind his desk in the early 60’s he had a framed cancelled check from him to the I.R.S. for $10,000. When I asked him about it, he explained he was very proud of the first time he was able to pay that large a sum in taxes! You see Uncle Gerald really loved this country, had worn its uniform, was grateful for the privilege to prosper that our system creates and protects.

So it just didn’t seem right that I shouldn’t be paying any Federal income tax, even if that was legal, while I am enjoying those very same privileges. So I went back and pulled out enough deductions so that I could pay my fair share without throwing off the math.

Of course none of us are always happy with all the ways our government spends our money. But I am very proud of how it sends material help not only to our citizens but to people around the world when calamity strikes. I applaud medical care for the poor, the protection of our natural resources, grants to underprivileged but gifted college students, to name just a few, and enthusiastically applaud our government’s generous support of Israel. So how could I not want to chip and do what I could?

A lot of what our government does can reasonably be called Tsedaqah, righteous and benevolent giving to those in real need. Not all of us personally have a chance to do all we could for the needy each year, but by willingly and honestly paying our fair share of Federal taxes each year, we not only express our love of country, but also help our neighbors in trouble. It’s a mitzvah!