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May 24, 2013 /15 Sivan, 5773
At a Glance

Posts Tagged ‘King David’

Pieter Lastman’s David And Uriah Paintings

Wednesday, June 10th, 2009

Reclaimed: Paintings from the Collection of Jacques Goudstikker

March 15 – August 02, 2009

The Jewish Museum

1109 Fifth Avenue at 92nd Street, New York

www.thejewishmuseum.org  

 

 

In one of the most complex and controversial of biblical narratives, the book of 2 Samuel recounts an almost operatic moment in which Uriah the Hittite, husband of Batsheva, was instructed by King David to unknowingly carry his own death sentence to the Jewish general Yoav (Joab). Had Uriah betrayed his king’s confidence and opened the letter, he could have surely have escaped death.

 

One can almost sense this nuance in a painting by the 16th-17th century Dutch painter (and Rembrandt’s and Jan Lievens’ teacher) Pieter Pietersz Lastman titled “David gives Uriah a Letter for Joab.” The painting is part of an exhibit at The Jewish Museum of works by many artists once owned by Dutch, Jewish collector Jacques Goudstikker, whose works were looted by the Nazis.

 

 

Pieter Pietersz Lastman (ca. 1583-1633). “David gives Uriah a Letter for Joab.” 1619.

Oil on panel. Private collection. Courtesy of The Jewish Museum, N.Y.

 

 

Lastman portrays David sitting on his throne clad in a blue-purple robe and red cape and bearing a golden scepter. Like many 17th century Dutch paintings, Lastman’s work should not be “read” simply on a surface level. Ironically, a dog, the symbol of fidelity in art, stands between David and Uriah, and two pillars, typically symbolic of fortitude, flank the anything-but-confident David on both sides. Additionally, a young boy, who seems most interested in the scepter, stands on the king’s left, and might represent Absalom, who later rebelled against his father, seeking to steal the kingdom from Solomon. Uriah kneels before David with his helmet at his feet, and about a dozen soldiers appear in the background, which contains a Christian propagandist element: a depiction of St. Peter’s Basilica, rumored to contain pillars from Solomon’s Temple. By casting an Old Testament scene in Vatican City (which of course did not exist in David’s era), the Catholic Lastman was suggesting that the episode from the Jewish bible also bore significance to Catholics.

 

 

Pieter Pietersz Lastman. “King David Handing the Letter to Uriah.” 1611. Oil on oak panel. Detroit Institute of Arts. Photo Courtesy of Detroit Institute of Arts.

 

 

The letter David holds in his right hand – in a pouch bound with the king’s seal – is exactly the same sort Lastman had depicted eight years earlier in “King David Handing the Letter to Uriah,” at the Detroit Institute of Arts. The Detroit version includes writing on the outside of the letter (presumably by David’s hand), which the later version lacks. (Incidentally, a letter written and sealed by a royal hand might be relevant in interpreting verses like Esther 3:12, 8:8, and 8:10, and 1 Kings 21:8, and Daniel 6:18). The boy who sits on the king’s right in the Detroit version might be the same one on his left in the later version, though he looks at David’s crown rather than his scepter. Though he wears armor, Uriah is dressed in the contemporary Dutch fashion (with a feathered hat replacing the helmet) in the Detroit version, while the later Uriah looks to be dressed in a more “biblical” fashion, though both in fact wear the same tan robe with brown stripes at the hem. St. Peter’s also appears in the Detroit painting, but it is accompanied by a fountain with a pagan river god pouring water. Another difference is that the Detroit David is a much older man than his peer in the other work. 

 

It is difficult to locate Lastman’s two depictions of David and Uriah in a larger artistic tradition, because there was not much of a precedent for the scene. Jean Colombe’s “David entrusts a letter to Uriah” from the “Tr?s Riches Heures du Duc de Berry” (1485-9) shows an entirely different composition: David in gold sitting in the foreground, Uriah, clad in blue, kneeling behind, in what appears to be a medieval castle, and two court advisors. The illumination accompanies the text of Psalm 50 (in the Greek numbering, 51 in Jewish counts), which begins, “A song to David, when Nathan the prophet came to him, when he went to Bathsheba.” On the throne, Colombe painted a jester carrying a stick and wearing animal ears, perhaps a reference to 1 Samuel 21, where David impersonated an insane person to evade capture at Gath.

 

 

French Gothic. Detail: “David and Bathsheba.” C. 1250. Pierpont Morgan Library.

 

 

The 1490 “David, accompanied by Bathsheba, gives Uriah a letter for Joab” by the Master of Cornelis Croesinck, also known as the “Master of the Dark Eyes,” also does not seem to have captured Lastman’s attention. The work, which is at the Hague, mysteriously adds Bathsheba to the scene standing behind David as he hands the letter to Uriah. This bold interpretive move, which makes little sense in the context of the larger story, is also unprecedented. Other depictions of Uriah that would have been available to Lastman feature Uriah’s death rather than his receiving of the letter (a 1511 “Killing of Uriah” by Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel, and a c. 1430 “Uriah is killed in the battle before the city of Rabbah” by Master of Otto van Moerdrecht, also in the Hague).

 

For the most part, other depictions feature a medieval knight kneeling before David , some include a letter, which often looks more like a loaf of bread than a letter (most notably a c. 1500 illumination from a Book of Hours and a 13th century illumination from “Image du Monde”), but most do not. “A 13th century illumination from a Psalter and Book of Hours” is the only one to show a letter bearing a dangling seal that resembles Lastman’s works, and might have served as a model for the piece. A supposed “David and Uriah” is attributed to Rembrandt in the collection of the Hermitage dated 1665, but the Hermitage calls the scene “Haman Recognizes His Fate,” and even though Rembrandt studied with Lastman, he does not seem to have copied Lastman’s motif.

 

 

Psalter and Book of Hours. Ms. 730, fol. 109v. Detail: “David sends Uriah to Joab.”

13th century. Pierpont Morgan Library.

 

 

But where Lastman’s predecessors tended not to show the Uriah scene altogether and when they did depict David and Uriah, they tended to opt for stylized portraits, Lastman’s David looks worried or morally torn, in short, more human. This is surely a mode of biblical interpretation that Lastman passed along to Rembrandt, evidenced by the latter’s many naturalistic depictions of biblical characters.

 

Many viewers will surely find the Jewish Museum show fascinating for historical reasons, and will be interested in the back-story of the return of looted art. But examining the larger context of even one of the works shows what a tragedy it would be for the public to not have access to viewing them.

 

Menachem Wecker welcomes comments at mwecker@gmail.com. He is a painter and writer, residing in Washington, D.C.

Pieter Lastman’s David And Uriah Paintings

Wednesday, June 10th, 2009

Reclaimed: Paintings from the Collection of Jacques Goudstikker


March 15 – August 02, 2009


The Jewish Museum


1109 Fifth Avenue at 92nd Street, New York



 

 


In one of the most complex and controversial of biblical narratives, the book of 2 Samuel recounts an almost operatic moment in which Uriah the Hittite, husband of Batsheva, was instructed by King David to unknowingly carry his own death sentence to the Jewish general Yoav (Joab). Had Uriah betrayed his king’s confidence and opened the letter, he could have surely have escaped death.

 

One can almost sense this nuance in a painting by the 16th-17th century Dutch painter (and Rembrandt’s and Jan Lievens’ teacher) Pieter Pietersz Lastman titled “David gives Uriah a Letter for Joab.” The painting is part of an exhibit at The Jewish Museum of works by many artists once owned by Dutch, Jewish collector Jacques Goudstikker, whose works were looted by the Nazis.

 

 


Pieter Pietersz Lastman (ca. 1583-1633). “David gives Uriah a Letter for Joab.” 1619.

Oil on panel. Private collection. Courtesy of The Jewish Museum, N.Y.

 

 

Lastman portrays David sitting on his throne clad in a blue-purple robe and red cape and bearing a golden scepter. Like many 17th century Dutch paintings, Lastman’s work should not be “read” simply on a surface level. Ironically, a dog, the symbol of fidelity in art, stands between David and Uriah, and two pillars, typically symbolic of fortitude, flank the anything-but-confident David on both sides. Additionally, a young boy, who seems most interested in the scepter, stands on the king’s left, and might represent Absalom, who later rebelled against his father, seeking to steal the kingdom from Solomon. Uriah kneels before David with his helmet at his feet, and about a dozen soldiers appear in the background, which contains a Christian propagandist element: a depiction of St. Peter’s Basilica, rumored to contain pillars from Solomon’s Temple. By casting an Old Testament scene in Vatican City (which of course did not exist in David’s era), the Catholic Lastman was suggesting that the episode from the Jewish bible also bore significance to Catholics.

 

 


Pieter Pietersz Lastman. “King David Handing the Letter to Uriah.” 1611. Oil on oak panel. Detroit Institute of Arts. Photo Courtesy of Detroit Institute of Arts.

 

 

The letter David holds in his right hand – in a pouch bound with the king’s seal – is exactly the same sort Lastman had depicted eight years earlier in “King David Handing the Letter to Uriah,” at the Detroit Institute of Arts. The Detroit version includes writing on the outside of the letter (presumably by David’s hand), which the later version lacks. (Incidentally, a letter written and sealed by a royal hand might be relevant in interpreting verses like Esther 3:12, 8:8, and 8:10, and 1 Kings 21:8, and Daniel 6:18). The boy who sits on the king’s right in the Detroit version might be the same one on his left in the later version, though he looks at David’s crown rather than his scepter. Though he wears armor, Uriah is dressed in the contemporary Dutch fashion (with a feathered hat replacing the helmet) in the Detroit version, while the later Uriah looks to be dressed in a more “biblical” fashion, though both in fact wear the same tan robe with brown stripes at the hem. St. Peter’s also appears in the Detroit painting, but it is accompanied by a fountain with a pagan river god pouring water. Another difference is that the Detroit David is a much older man than his peer in the other work. 

 

It is difficult to locate Lastman’s two depictions of David and Uriah in a larger artistic tradition, because there was not much of a precedent for the scene. Jean Colombe’s “David entrusts a letter to Uriah” from the “Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry” (1485-9) shows an entirely different composition: David in gold sitting in the foreground, Uriah, clad in blue, kneeling behind, in what appears to be a medieval castle, and two court advisors. The illumination accompanies the text of Psalm 50 (in the Greek numbering, 51 in Jewish counts), which begins, “A song to David, when Nathan the prophet came to him, when he went to Bathsheba.” On the throne, Colombe painted a jester carrying a stick and wearing animal ears, perhaps a reference to 1 Samuel 21, where David impersonated an insane person to evade capture at Gath.

 

 


French Gothic. Detail: “David and Bathsheba.” C. 1250. Pierpont Morgan Library.

 

 

The 1490 “David, accompanied by Bathsheba, gives Uriah a letter for Joab” by the Master of Cornelis Croesinck, also known as the “Master of the Dark Eyes,” also does not seem to have captured Lastman’s attention. The work, which is at the Hague, mysteriously adds Bathsheba to the scene standing behind David as he hands the letter to Uriah. This bold interpretive move, which makes little sense in the context of the larger story, is also unprecedented. Other depictions of Uriah that would have been available to Lastman feature Uriah’s death rather than his receiving of the letter (a 1511 “Killing of Uriah” by Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel, and a c. 1430 “Uriah is killed in the battle before the city of Rabbah” by Master of Otto van Moerdrecht, also in the Hague).

 

For the most part, other depictions feature a medieval knight kneeling before David , some include a letter, which often looks more like a loaf of bread than a letter (most notably a c. 1500 illumination from a Book of Hours and a 13th century illumination from “Image du Monde”), but most do not. “A 13th century illumination from a Psalter and Book of Hours” is the only one to show a letter bearing a dangling seal that resembles Lastman’s works, and might have served as a model for the piece. A supposed “David and Uriah” is attributed to Rembrandt in the collection of the Hermitage dated 1665, but the Hermitage calls the scene “Haman Recognizes His Fate,” and even though Rembrandt studied with Lastman, he does not seem to have copied Lastman’s motif.

 

 


Psalter and Book of Hours. Ms. 730, fol. 109v. Detail: “David sends Uriah to Joab.”

13th century. Pierpont Morgan Library.

 

 

But where Lastman’s predecessors tended not to show the Uriah scene altogether and when they did depict David and Uriah, they tended to opt for stylized portraits, Lastman’s David looks worried or morally torn, in short, more human. This is surely a mode of biblical interpretation that Lastman passed along to Rembrandt, evidenced by the latter’s many naturalistic depictions of biblical characters.

 

Many viewers will surely find the Jewish Museum show fascinating for historical reasons, and will be interested in the back-story of the return of looted art. But examining the larger context of even one of the works shows what a tragedy it would be for the public to not have access to viewing them.


 


Menachem Wecker welcomes comments at mwecker@gmail.com. He is a painter and writer, residing in Washington, D.C.

A Regal Silhouette: King David The Musical

Wednesday, June 4th, 2008


David in Shadow and Light


Libretto by Yehuda Hyman;


Music by Daniel Hoffman;


Directed by Nick Olcott


Running now through June 22, 2008


Washington DC JCC Theater J


www.theaterj.org, tickets: (800) 494-TIXS


 


 


Light and shadow typically assume moral implications in literature, where light is often divine and dark symbolizes the unknown and the scary. In Greek mythology, the dead who could afford it, bribed Charon to take them across the River Styx to Hades, while those who could not, hovered around the river for eternity as “shades”. Plato saw this imperfect world as silhouettes projected on the walls of a dark cave. Film noirs build drama in scenes that are dark and perpetually rainy, while “The Lion King” turned to a dark, shadowy elephant graveyard as the place of supreme chaos and evil.

 

“David in Shadow and Light”, the current play at Theater J at the Washington DC JCC, builds upon the charged metaphors of light and dark with a new twist. In the play, the gaps between film frames serve as a metaphor for the life of King David. If the information about David’s life in the Bible is the series of film frames, the space between frames “contain” the many details the Bible could have provided but did not – the set of emotions, thoughts, and other actions that the play improvises upon.

 

 



The cast of David in Shadow and Light. Photo by Stan Barouh, courtesy of Theater J.


 

 

In an adaptation of the famous “RENT” song, “Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes. How do you measure, measure a year?” the characters of “David in Shadow and Light” lay out this methodology early on in a song: “Twenty-four frames per second of life/ An even division of shadow and light/ A vision projected on canvas of white/ In 24 frames per second of life.” In between frames, so the song continues, “is the moment between/ Where the vision goes dark to reveal the unseen/ Where the heart has to choose how to play out the scene/ In the moment between every moment between.”

 

The frames come from a projector upon which Archangel Metatron (Donna Migliaccio) shows the 930-year-old, wheelchair-ridden and dejected Adam (Norman Aronovic) how the future will unfold. Metatron shows Noah, Sarah, Ishmael, Isaac, Joseph, Moses, Miriam, Samson, Shakespeare, Napoleon, Einstein, Martin Luther King, and Kennedy. But as she tries to fast forward past the young David, who is only destined to live a matter of hours, Adam insists that Metatron stop the reel:

 

“I wanna see the baby. The one with the red cheeks,” he demands. “Ah ah look at him see how he shines so bright. His heart is fire – holy light.” Though she has been sent to cheer Adam up, Metatron agrees to euthanize him and helps him transfer his final 70 years to King David.

 

 



Donna Migliaccio (Metatron) and Norman Aronovic (Adam).  Photo by Stan Barouh, courtesy of Theater J.


 

 

In Homer’s The Odyssey, Odysseus is accompanied throughout his series of journeys by his guardian angel: the “gray-eyed goddess” of wisdom, Athena. In “David in Shadow and Light,” King David (Matt Pearson) has the benefit of two protectors in Adam and Metatron, who try to defend him, even as he sins and fights with King Saul (Bobby Smith) and Michal (Carolyn Agan). Still, viewers know that David will ultimately have too much blood on his hands to build the Temple, and he will die unhappy for his inability to achieve this dream, just as Moses did when he only managed to see Israel from the distant peak of Mount Nebo.

 

Where most plays that address biblical topics deal in clichés and very loose allegiance to the text, “David in Shadow and Light” must be commended for its careful study of Jewish scripture and commentaries. Hyman does invoke poetic license at various points in the narrative, but he proves himself to be such a diligent student of scripture that these departures appear to be conscious decisions rather than ones bred from ignorance.

 

The basic storyline is based on tradition. According to the Zohar (Part 1, page 91b), God showed Adam how history would unfold, so Adam, who was supposed to live until 1,000, donated his final 70 years to David. The Zohar does not mention any angel, but the Yalkut Shimoni (Bereishit 41) does include Metatron in the story. In the Yalkut, Adam asks God for permission to give David the 70 years, and God agrees. Adam then writes up a contract (which perhaps inspires the contract Faust proposes to Mephistopheles in Goethe’s “Faust”), which he, God, and Metatron sign. Metatron is viewed as a protector of the Jews, and the name (which is not feminine in scripture) might mean “messenger.”

 

 



Matthew Anderson, Matt Pearson (King David), and Lawrence Redmond. Photo by Stan Barouh, courtesy of Theater J.


 

 

The play casts Goliath (Russell Sunday) as a punk rocker, with a Mohawk, a lot of spikes, and tight leather pants. This, of course, does not appear in the Bible, but a punk rocker with a serious attitude problem makes sense, in light of the biblical tale of Goliath trash-talking the Jewish soldiers in Samuel 1:17, “Why have you come out to battle? Am I not the Philistine and you the servants of Saul? Choose for yourselves a man, and let him come down to me.” He later curses David’s God and tells him, “Come to me, and I will give your body to birds of the air and to the beasts of the field.”

 

Even if the giant’s attire is more contemporary than biblical, the play does follow the Babylonian Talmud in its decision to have Goliath haunt David after he is beheaded and insist he is David’s relative. Tractate Sotah (page 42b), which responds to the moment in the Book of Ruth where Orpah kisses Naomi goodbye while Ruth, clinging to her, states, “Let the descendents of the one who kissed (‘neshukah‘) fall in battle to the sons of the one who remained (‘devukah‘).” The Talmud is of course referring to David and Goliath.

 

Other parts of the script depart from the biblical narrative. The Bible, for instance, makes no mention of Bathsheba’s husband Uriah being infertile (in the play David learns this before sending Uriah to his death), and in the play Samuel the prophet discovers David in the field shepherding sheep and tending to each one’s individual needs before anointing him king, whereas in the Bible (Samuel 1:16) Samuel approaches Jesse (Yishai), who parades all his seven sons (including Eliav, Avinadav, and Shammah) before the prophet. Jesse only presents David reluctantly when every other option had been exhausted.

 

“David in Shadow and Light” also employs some innovative moves from a lighting and set design perspective. For most of the play, the foreground and the background are separated by a screen, upon which many of the violent scenes are projected in silhouette. The projected shadows sometimes appear playful like a puppet show, and other times downright frightening, as when military leaders who address crowds cast imposing shadows that evoke Cold War propaganda films.

 

Contemporary punk and rock aspects aside, the royal figures in the play feel very Egyptian. The set is otherwise minimalist, with only Adam’s wheelchair, a director’s chair and the projector for Metatron, and occasional thrones and open doorways leading to hell (for Goliath) and heaven (for everyone else). The play also features a “non-traditional casting” move of “a David of color: a Tiger Woods-like natural phenomenon,” or “the Barack Obama of the Bible,” as Ari Roth, artistic director of Theater J states in the press release.

 

These new approaches to the biblical narrative left this reviewer rethinking the story of David and its relevance today. But sometimes, too many variations on a text yield a confusing story that overextends itself. “David in Shadow and Light” might approach that murky effect, but it is hard to criticize a play that approaches an iconic story that has been explored so often and so similarly from such a fresh perspective.

 

Menachem Wecker welcomes comments at mwecker@gmail.com. He is a painter and writer, residing in Washington, DC.

 

I am very grateful to my father, Rabbi Mordechai Wecker, for his assistance tracking down the Hebrew sources quoted in this article. 

Nitzevet, Mother Of King David: A Bold Voice Of Silence

Wednesday, May 31st, 2006

Shavuot marks the birthday of King David and for this reason it is customary in many communities to read Megillat Ruth since Ruth was his great-grandmother. What is not as known, however, is the remarkable story of Nitzevet, the noble mother of King David.




King David had many challenges throughout his life. At one point, this great individual describes that enemies who wish to cut him down surround him; even his own brothers are strangers to him, ravaging and reviling him.

 

Why did King David arouse such ire and contempt?

 

David was born into the illustrious family of Yishai, who served as the head of the Sanhedrin (Jewish Supreme Court) and was one of the most distinguished leaders of his generation. David was the youngest in his family, which included seven illustrious brothers.

Yet, when David was born, these prominent family members greeted his birth with absolute derision. David was not permitted to eat with his family, but was assigned a separate table in the corner. He was given the task of shepherd, in the hope that a wild beast would kill him.

 

Only one individual throughout David’s youth felt pained over his plight and felt a deep bond of love for the child whom she alone knew was undoubtedly pure. This was King David’s mother, Nitzevet bat Adel.

 

Torn and anguished by David’s unwarranted troubles, yet powerless to stop the degradation, Nitzevet stood by the sidelines waiting for the time when true justice would emerge.

It would take 28 long years for that to happen.

 David’s Birth





David’s father, Yishai, was the grandson of Boaz and Ruth. After several years of marriage and after having raised virtuous children, Yishai began to entertain personal doubts about his ancestry.


His grandmother Ruth was a convert from the nation of Moav. The Torah specifically forbids a Moabite convert. Boaz and the sages understood this law as forbidding the conversion of male Moabites, while exempting the female converts. Ruth gave birth to Oved, the father of Yishai.


Later in his life, doubt gripped at Yishai on whether Boaz’s decision was correct. If Yishai’s status was questionable, he could not remain married to his wife, a veritable Israelite. Disregarding the personal sacrifice, Yishai separated from her.


After a number of years, Yishai longed for an offspring whose ancestry would be unquestionable. His plan involved his Canaanite maidservant.


He said to her, “Prepare for tonight. I will be freeing you, conditionally. If my status as a Jew is legitimate, you are freed as a Jewish convert to marry me. If my status is blemished, I am not giving you your freedom, but as a Canaanite maidservant, you may marry a Moabite convert.”


Aware of the anguish of her mistress in being separated from her husband, the maidservant informed Nitzevet of Yishai’s plan and suggested a counter plan. “Switch places with me tonight.”


Nitzevet conceived that night.


Incensed, her sons wished to kill her and her illegitimate fetus. Nitzevet chose a vow of silence, refusing to embarrass her husband by revealing his plan.


Unaware of his wife’s behavior, but having compassion on her, Yishai ordered his sons not to kill her. “Instead, let the child that will be born be treated as a hated servant. Everyone will realize that he is a mamzer.”


From the moment of his birth Nitzevet’s son was treated by his brothers, as an abominable outcast. The rest of the nation, too, assumed that this youth was a treacherous sinner.

 King David’s Corronation





The prophet, Shmuel arrives in Beit Lechem to anoint the new king of Israel. As he lays his eyes on Yishai’s eldest son, tall and distinguished Eliav, he is sure that this is the future king, until G-d reprimands him not to look at outside qualities.


No longer did Shmuel make any assumptions. All the seven sons of Yishai passed before Shmuel. None had been chosen.


“Are these all the lads?” Shmuel asked.


Yishai answered, “A small one is left.”


Shmuel ordered that David be summoned. Out of respect, David first went home to change his clothes.


Nitzevet inquired, “Why did you come home?”


David explained. Nitzevet answered, “If so, I, too, am accompanying you.”


When David arrived, Shmuel doubted whether he was worthy of the kingship.


However, G-d commanded, “My anointed one is standing and you remain seated? Anoint David!”


Tearful weeping could be heard from outside – the voice of Nitzevet, David’s lone supporter and solitary source of comfort. The 28 long years of silence in the face of humiliation were finally coming to a close. At last, all would see that the lineage of her youngest son was pure.


Within moments, the once reviled shepherd boy became anointed as the future king of Israel.

 Nitzevet’s Legacy





King David had many sterling qualities. Many of these were inherited from his illustrious father, Yishai. But it was undoubtedly from his mother’s milk that the young David absorbed strong values and the courage to face his adversaries.


From the moment he was born, and during his most tender years, it was Nitzevet who taught him the essential lesson of valuing every individual’s dignity and refraining from embarrassing another, regardless of the personal consequences. It was she who displayed a silent but stoic bravery and dignity in the face of the gravest hardship.


Undoubtedly, it is from Nitzevet that King David absorbed a strength born from an inner confidence to disregard the callous treatment of the world and find solace in the comfort of his Maker. It was this strength that would fortify King David to defeat his staunchest antagonists and well as his most treacherous enemies, as he valiantly fought against the mightiest warriors.


And it was this strength that ultimately allowed him to become the forebear of Moshiach.


Chana Weisberg is the author of several books, the latest, Divine Whispers – Stories that Speak to the Heart and Soul. She is also a columnist for www.chabad.org’s Weekly Magazine. Weisberg lectures on issues relating to women, faith, relationships and the Jewish soul and is currently scheduling a worldwide book tour for the coming year. To book a talk for your community, for information on her speaking schedule or to purchase a signed copy of her books, please contact: weisberg@sympatico.ca

Chronicles Of Crises In Our Communities – 3/03/06

Wednesday, March 1st, 2006

Readers react to letter by “Unimpressed Male Onlooker” (Chronicle Jan.13).

Dear Rachel,

To the man who wrote that he is uncomfortable with women davening on the subway, my answer is for him not to look at the women. While the subway is not an ideal place to daven, I think it is great that a woman takes the time to do so – a time oriented mitzvah that is not really expected of women at all. It is especially commendable in these busy and troubled times. Though I myself daven at home daily, I don’t believe that it is in this man’s place to tell women what to do. I’ve seen both Jew and Gentile praying on buses and subways.

Glad to be living in a land of Freedom of Religion

Letter #2

I am an 18-year old student who frequently rides the subway and was very disturbed by your response to the “unimpressed male onlooker.” Since when have Jews concerned themselves with what others think when doing what Hashem wants of them? As far as calling attention to oneself, l find that females on the train who are just looking around or listening to music draw more unwanted attention. When davening or saying tehillim with your head and heart in the siddur, not only are you purifying the surroundings, you are safely distracted from the subway environment. I speak from personal experience.

The subway’s just fine for me

Letter #3

“Unimpressed male onlooker” seems more interested in carping and criticizing others (i.e. women) than studying a sefer on the train. Did he ever learn Pirkei Avos (1:6) – to judge others for merit (l’kaf zchus)? No, I suppose he is too busy studying girls on the train. How dare he act as judge and jury over his fellow Jew! On a personal note, my great-grandfather was renown for his great piety. And yes, there were occasions when he davened on the train. And yes, he had such kavanah and “devakus” (closeness) to Hashem that the secular surroundings did not dissuade or distract him. “Unimpressed

¼” is insulting my own family, as well as countless other Yidden whom he views as “overly pious.”

Both you and the letter-writer would do well to read SHMUEL ll (6:14-23) about Dovid HaMelech dancing, leaping and whirling before the Holy Ark with great kavanah and emotion. When Michal, his wife, saw this “tasteless display,” she accused him of being vulgar and “exposing himself” before the slave girls of his subjects. King David’s reply was – as you would say – “on target”: “Before the Lord Who chose me… I made merry. Before the Lord I will demean myself even more than this and be low in my own eyes

¼ and among the slave girls of which you speak, I will be honored…” So, what takes priority – the idle thoughts of man, or honoring Hashem?

Dismayed by your attitude

Letter #4

I read your article on a weekly basis. However, I was very disappointed to see your view on women davening. Did you consult a Rav before saying that women shouldn’t daven at all if that’s the only time they have to pray? Take, for example, a married woman of children who is the breadwinner for the family as her husband learns all day. Her job is out in Manhattan and she has to be there at 9:30 a.m. Why shouldn’t she daven on the train? What’s wrong with it? Even a girl, I’m sure, has reason for davening on the train. My mom had a baby last year. Having had a difficult birth, it took a while for her to get back to her normal self. My sister arose early to see our siblings off to school and to help out with the baby. Once when she hadn’t managed to fit her davening into her hectic morning routine at home, she took her siddur out on the train on her way to work. As she began to daven, an Israeli male said to her, “Miss, this is not the way

¼to pray on a train where you can’t concentrate. Get up a half hour earlier…” My sister politely told him that she had been up since 5:30 to send kids off to school, etc. The man embarrassingly apologized. So you can inform your letter writer that if he has a problem with women praying on the subway, he can either ask them why they are doing so or give them the benefit of the – in that maybe this is the only time the girl can make for davening. And what’s wrong with purifying the train and making it holier? Tell this man to move to a different car so that he doesn’t see what the nashim tzidkonios of this generation are doing. What a selfish man! Even the few minutes that a woman has to talk to G-d he wants to take away from her!

A very upset reader

(To be continued )

Letters To The Editor

Wednesday, January 25th, 2006

Not Convinced By Plaut

I always enjoy Steven Plaut’s articles in The Jewish Press and until last week (“Israel’s Plague of Conspiracism,” front-page essay) always found myself in complete agreement with him. I do not know Mr. Chamish and almost always dismiss his claims; in addition, I am not one who sees a conspiracy around every corner, and no, I do not believe there was a conspiracy behind the murder of JFK, Oliver Stone notwithstanding.
 
When it comes to the murder of Yitzhak Rabin, however, I am part of a very large group of people who absolutely do believe that there is more than meets the eye. And yes, the Rabin family also felt there were many unanswered questions.
 
Mr. Plaut lists many points raised by those skeptical of the “official” version of events and, one by one, either dismisses them as false or finds an excuse for them. Taken together, though, these points make a compelling case.
 
The fact is that the driver of the car was not Rabin’s regular driver, even if he was someone who drove for the prime minister on occasion. But whoever the driver was, a three-minute trip to the hospital should not have taken a full 15 minutes (with the car getting lost into the bargain). The usual route was crowded? The driver should have just leaned on the horn and drove – the life of the prime minister of Israel was at stake. Pity we can’t ask the driver about any of this, since he met an untimely death in a hit and run accident shortly thereafter.
 
Why wasn’t Leah Rabin told right away and taken to the hospital immediately? Why didn’t the secret service shoot Yigal Amir after he fired the first shot? Why didn’t they shoot him after he fired the second shot? Why was the home video taken by a private person from his window suppressed for 10 years?
 
I was in Israel at the time of the murder and was watching the peace rally on television. I saw whatever was being filmed. I saw and heard an unidentified person yell “blanks!” I saw that clip repeated hundreds of times, but never again with that person yelling those words. Even if “people commonly mistake real gunfire for blanks,” why excise that tiny part from all future showings of the clip?
 
The doctors kept getting it wrong? First the hospital and doctors said one thing, but the final report got it right? My, how convenient. The prime minister is shot twice at point blank range and he walks to the car. Pretty good. His bodyguards don’t try to shoot the assassin. Pretty good. Avishai Raviv, the mole who instigated the whole affair and was responsible for the infamous poster of Rabin in a Nazi uniform, gets a slap on the wrist – or should I say a pat on the back, and the girlfriend who “should have known” goes to prison. But of course there’s nothing sinister at work here – only the people Raviv could have implicated.
 
Mr. Plaut writes that the Shamgar commission examined everything and found nothing. Proving what, exactly? A whole generation of Israelis grew up believing that Chaim Arlozoroff was murdered by a right-wing Jew. Only decades later, during the Begin years, did the truth finally come out, much to the dismay of Israeli left-wingers. Such is the power of the Israeli Left.
 
As for Yigal Amir, I believe he does think he murdered Rabin. I hope we are all alive to hear the truth when it finally comes out, because while sometimes the wheels of justice grind slowly, “there is an eye that sees and an ear that hears, and all of our deeds are written in the book.”
 

Amy Wall

New York, NY

 
 

 

Mediated Discourse
 
I heartily concur with Cheryl Kupfer’s assertion (“One-Way Ticket To Legal Hell,” op-ed, Jan. 13) that couples contemplating divorce strongly consider civil discourse rather than place their trust in the courts and social service agencies. In truth, this applies to anyone prepared to duke it out in any form of litigation. When the dust has settled the combatants are left bloodied and bruised with no one benefiting save the very lawyers who developed the mendacious and often unscrupulous system.
 
Well intentioned and logical as it is, it seems, however, that there is a flaw in Ms. Kupfer’s proposal. Warring parties are generally governed by their passions and are not likely to engage in conciliatory discussions. Perhaps a better suggestion is to allow for a third party to listen to each side and then advise accordingly. While there are intransigents who cannot be reasoned with, most people given the opportunity to air their concerns do so and accept the opinions of a trustworthy mediator.
 
I would imagine that such mediation already exists in some form, but it needs to be brought to the public’s attention as a first response – and where better than The Jewish Press, which has always been at the forefront of advocating for those in need?
 

Dr. Yaakov Stern

Brooklyn, NY

 
 

 

For The Record
 
In his January 6 column (“Israel’s Emerging Nuclear Strategy in the Islamic Middle East”), Professor Louis Rene Beres was quite mistaken when he wrote that “parts of a high-level report (November 2005) issued by the highly respected Washington Institute For Near East Policy [support] Israel’s unilateral nuclear disarmament.” In fact, The Washington Institute has issued no such report.
 
Mr. Beres may be referring to a report published by the U.S. Army War College, of which I was co-editor. In that report, one author (my co-editor, Henry Sokolski) suggests Israel consider mothballing but not dismantling the Dimona reactor which makes nuclear bomb material and, if key other Middle East countries dismantle their nuclear facilities, agree to let the United States control Israel’s nuclear material.
 
I do not support Mr. Sokolski’s suggestion, which has too many loopholes and is too open to misinterpretation. That said, Mr. Sokolski’s proposal is hardly a call for Israel’s unilateral nuclear disarmament; it is at most a proposal for a unilateral freeze on production of additional bomb material.
 

Patrick Clawson

Deputy Director for Research

The Washington Institute for Near East Policy

Washington, DC

 
 

 

Can Rabbis Be Wrong? Readers Respond

 

 

‘Jewish Popes’
 
Kudos to Rabbi Mordechai Weiss (“Can Our Rabbis Be Wrong?” op-ed, Jan. 13) for having the courage to write what so many frum Jews are petrified to even whisper about. When did the notion ever seep into our consciousness that rabbis are somehow infallible or above criticism?
 
As a child I always heard Orthodox Jews speak with condescension of Catholics who believed a human being like the pope could be infallible, beyond question, all seeing and all knowing, etc. And now, as a senior citizen some sixty years later, I see in the Orthodox community exactly the same phenomenon, although in our case this blasphemous elevation of mere mortals extends beyond one man to many, many rabbis.
 
It seems that every learned or respected rabbi is now, lehavdil, a Jewish pope – not to be questioned, criticized or second-guessed, no matter the issue.
 

Tibor Marger

Jerusalem
 
 

 

King David Didn’t Sin
 
Rabbi Weiss rehashes an old discredited commentary about King David. Specifically, Rabbi Weiss incorrectly writes that King David and Bat Sheva committed a sin. The Talmud, however, points out that King David did not commit any sin. Although Rabbi Weiss does mention the appropriate Talmudic disclaimer, he erroneously says that it “goes against the simple meaning of the text.”
 
Unfortunately, he omits crucial information that would clarify the subject. In particular, it must be noted that at that time in Jewish history, all soldiers were required by law to divorce their wives. (See Shabbos 56a; Tosefos re Kesubos 9b) Such legislation was enacted as a benefit for the women in case their husbands were killed in battle. Thus, King David and Bat Sheva did not commit adultery.
 
The biblical text also verifies that no such sin was committed, as it reports: “….she was purified from her uncleanliness” (11 Samuel 11:4). Had their intimacy been an adulterous act, it would not have been described in terms of purification. Further, had she been a married woman, she would have been put to death for adultery. Moreover, King David would have been put to death for adultery. As indicated in the biblical text, King David inquired diligently about Bat Sheva’s status. That investigation was conducted to make sure that Uriah, Bat Sheva’s husband, had followed the custom of granting his wife a divorce.
 
Had King David merely wished to satisfy his lust, he would not have taken the trouble to ask people about such matters. It is, therefore, ridiculous to suggest that he planned to sleep with a married woman (II Samuel 11:3).
 
It is true that Nathan the prophet rebuked King David. Nathan’s aim was to teach that such behavior was unseemly for a man of King David’s caliber. As a righteous king and a prophet himself, King David was logically held to a higher standard. Nathan knew that King David would humbly accept such a reprimand, thereby setting an example of how to repent. The biblical lesson is that God accepts man’s true repentance.
 

Chaim Silver

(Via E-Mail)

 

 
 
‘Seriously Flawed Approach’
 
Rabbi Weiss presented a seriously flawed and misleading approach to the episode of King David and Bat Sheva. He seems to find a contradiction in the fact that the prophet Nathan severely criticized the king for his actions, yet the well known Talmudic dictum makes clear that “anyone who says David sinned is nothing but mistaken.”
 
The key to reconciling this inconsistency is to understand that people of high caliber are judged on a much higher level than common folk, and their “misdeeds” are greatly magnified in scripture to the extent that a superficial reading will give the impression that a “hideous crime” had been committed.
 
An example of this is the battle for the city of Ai, during which the nation suffered a major defeat, whereupon God told Yehoshua (Joshua 7:10), “Get up, for the nation has sinned…they have violated my covenant, they have stolen, they have lied…” which implies that a national transgression had taken place when in reality one man alone had sinned. The entire nation was held responsible for the actions of one man, because their high spiritual nature should have prevented the iniquity from taking place.
 
When the sages wrote that whoever says David sinned is in error, they meant to say that whoever thinks he understands exactly what the nature of the sin was is making a grievous mistake. As the king himself proclaims (Psalm 51:6), “To you alone I have sinned,” meaning that God alone knows exactly what the sin was. An excellent exposition on this matter can be found in the appendix to the ArtScroll edition of Samuel II.
 

Zev Lander

Brooklyn, NY
 
Rabbi Weiss Responds: I am familiar with the verses cited by Messrs Silver and Lander, but I feel they need to ask themselves some serious questions about the incident.
 
If, as they state, King David acted within the law, why did he call back Uriah from the battlefield at all? Why did he instruct him to have relations with his wife? Why did he command General Yoav to abandon Uriah and allow him to be killed in battle? Why was the child born to David as a result of this union killed by Almighty God? While the Talmud does say that “anyone who says that King David sinned was mistaken,” it also states that King David was punished for his acts by the rape of Tamar by his son Amnon and the rebellion of his son Avshalom, who defiled the concubines of his father on the same roof where David first beheld the beauty of Bat Sheva.
 
It seems to me the interpretations offered by Messrs Silver and Lander are rather simplistic. David himself in Tehillim recalls his sin and is constantly asking for absolution.
 

Though I cited the incident of David and Bat Sheva in my article, the main thrust of the piece was the suggestion that our rabbis retain their greatness even when they’re wrong with regard to science or medicine. This theory was put forth by Avraham the son of the Rambam and seems both plausible and compelling.

 

Where There’s Life, There Is Hope

Wednesday, April 6th, 2005

You would have to be hiding under a rock to be unaware of the sad and drawn-out death of a severely brain damaged woman called Terri Schiavo, whose husband and legal guardian made the decision to have her life-sustaining feeding tube removed. Mrs. Schiavo’s parents, however, wanted their 41-year-old daughter to receive the nutrients needed to sustain her life – such as it was. After years of fighting in court, the husband’s request was enforced.

The case received worldwide coverage and there were thousands of people who supported the husband’s decision or his right to make it, while thousands were vehemently against what they considered murder. Each side equally and eloquently cited numerous legal, ethical, moral and religious reasons for why they were for, or against, the removal of her feeding tube, which everyone knew was a death sentence.

From my knowledge of world history, both past and recent, I know that no one enters a battle thinking they are in the wrong, that they are the “bad guys” . Everyone feels justified in doing what they do, and I am not here to judge either side. I can only express my puzzlement as to why what happened was allowed to happen.

I don’t remember when or where I heard the phrase that I am going to quote – perhaps one of you readers would know – but it goes like this: “Wheres there’s life, there’s hope.”

Years ago, premature babies who weighed less than three pounds were often written off by doctors as not being viable. Often, these tiny infants who did survive were extremely brain damaged and physically and mentally incapacitated. Likewise, people with severe spinal cord injuries or advanced cancers were also viewed as non-saveable. Yet thanks to advanced scientific research and cutting edge bio-medical technology, many babies weighing as little as 20 ounces are being saved with few if any handicaps, and those totally paralyzed and on respirators can, after many years, begin to breathe on their own and even feel sensation and movement in their limbs. And there are many cancer patients who had funeral arrangements made for them years ago who are still enjoying life to the fullest. As long as there is life – there is a possibility of a cure. Most doctors in critical care units, when asked, will tell you that they have seen unexplained recoveries. Even those with no religious beliefs admit that they have witnessed miracles.

There is so much medical research going on globally, especially in Israel – using adult stem cell research – that it is very possible that sooner, rather than later, doctors will be able to regenerate damaged brains, spinal cords and diseased organs, such as the liver and the heart. For that reason alone, I am puzzled that invalids like Terri Schiavo, who did not seem to be in any great pain or discomfort, had their lives cut short.

There are circumstances where death is imminent and invasive medical intervention only prolongs dying, not life, with great physical anguish. There are situations where Jewish law allows non-intervention – for example, in the case of an aged person who is suffering immensely from disease, and painkillers are not giving relief, and whose organs have stopped functioning. If his heart stops beating , one is not required to try to shock it back. It is the body shutting down as it dies. However, withholding food and water to cause death is another matter. I don’t consider being fed a medical intervention like electric shock or a respirator for lungs that no longer can take in oxygen. Just as there are non-traditional but effective ways to communicate besides speaking, like the sign language used by the deaf, I believe a feeding tube is just another way of getting food into the body. It is a high tech “spoon”. A baby’s bottle can be viewed as a “feeding tube”.

I therefore am puzzled as to why Terri Schiavo and others like her – invalids who are not in any torturous pain – have been allowed to be starved to death. I have heard of child abuse cases where a child died because it was beaten by a parent or left alone in a crib for several days with no water or food. Either way, the act was viewed as a heinous murder. Why should it be different for an adult, especially one who despite her adult body has the dependence of an infant?

Many people insist that they would not want to continue living if they were in a vegetative state. What is the point to their lives? King David asked G-d that same question regarding the spider. To him it was a useless creature and he wondered why Hashem had created it. Later, a cob-web spun by a spider at the entrance of the cave in which he was hiding from Saul, who was trying to have him killed, saved David’s life and he understood that every life, every creation has its purpose. Perhaps extremely dependent, seemingly non-functioning people like Terri Schiavo exist so that those who come in contact with them learn kindness and compassion – and discover and appreciate their own blessings. Multi-handicapped people very clearly teach us not to get depressed or feel sorry for ourselves because of minor or even major mishaps or disappointments.

Where there is life, there is hope – and as unlikely as it may appear – there is also good reason.

Printed from: http://www.jewishpress.com/sections/magazine/where-theres-life-there-is-hope/2005/04/06/

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