The Best Kinda Weekend

In a long overdue departure from my usual screed, I wanna tell you all about my fabulous weekend on Long Island. Yes, Long Island...two words, not Longuyland. You see, Long Island is my stomping ground. I grew up here...near and on the south shore of this rather populous strip on land. Right now, I'm sitting on my cousins' deck where it's 85° and 64% humidity which isn't too bad. There's a nice breeze with a hint of salt wafting in from the direction of the ocean, and frankly, it's just fine for this girl. Humidity here never feels as oppressive as Minnesota humidity. I have no idea why. Maybe it's the momentary feeling of being home....even if it's in Oceanside and not North Bellmore. 

I made this journey on a whim. I heard Elon Gilad was to be the scholar-in-residence at my cousins' shul and I could not resist popping in for the occasion. The idea was irresistible! I would fly in on Thursday,  spend time with my cousin Perdie, get to the cemetery to see the folks and our grandparents, then stay with her brother and sister-in-law for the weekend since their shul, B'nai Sholom-Beth David, was hosting the event. 

Friday was breakfast with one of my old friends from high school days, now a rabbi. Jerry and I communicate pretty regularly, so it was a treat to sit opposite him panim al panim, face-to-face. There was so much to talk about. Jerry lost his wife before I lost Ziggy, and he was an incredible rock when I was going through the early days. That Jerry found love again was of great solace; he encouraged me to find out who the new me was. Sometimes texting just doesn't do it, but sitting in one space laughing is always good.

Candy, me, and Andrea
I'm the short one.

At noon, Candy, the Mallomar Fairy, was picking me up at the diner to go to the beach. Sister of my BFF since 5th grade, beach and lunch from the Lido Deli has become our tradition. But when she pulled up, there was someone in the front passenger seat... her sister had made the trip from that other state, New Jersey, to join us. There was much screaming when I saw Andrea. We'd not see each other in person in a very long time and I was completely undone. See, here's the thing: Andrea knows the best and worst of me. When we're together, we're just us, in so many ways the same kids we always were. We're still laughing about the cemetery in the backyard (don't ask) and the goofy stuff we did. The shared history is both comfortable and comforting. Of course, Candy was so excited we let her play with us. Already, this trip was a screaming success.

   Before shabbat: Rabbi Lerner and Elon Gilad

Friday brought the first event with Mr. Gilad. He and Rabbi Lerner could have been twins, and yes, embarrassingly so, I mistook one for the other! But once the talking started, there was no mistaking one for the other.

For three days, I got to listen to a world-class etymologist. Like something outta my childhood, a guy was explaining the roots and origin of words...only this guy was much taller than dad. But on matter, when he started talking about shabbat, Rosh Hodesh, and Sumerian moon god, SIN.  I was in heaven!  The whole idea that our own lunar cycle was a bit off kilter until one took into account the Sumerian calendar was music to my ol' mythology lovin' ears. I was so excited to hear someone Jewish talking about this branch of storytelling! I must be living in a bubble to be so unaware that people are actively dissecting the connections. It's been a long time since I've sat in basic lecture mode and loved it. Usually I get fidgety, but not with Gilad talking. I was enthralled by his observations. And bonus! It was fun having people around me to talk about it in the aftermath.

As I'm sitting here trying to piece together the rest of the talks, I'm peeved that the shul did not hand out a flyer or guide to the weekend. So much material was covered that it's hard to keep track without taking notes, and you cannot take notes on Shabbat. And he talked about that, too: how we came to do what we do and don't do on Shabbat. My thinking needs to be updated.

At the seudat shlishit, Gilad spoke about the identification of animals mentioned in Tanakh. The very description of the mishkan, and the covering of the tent do not necessarily make modern sense:

And make for the tent a covering of tanned ram skins, and a covering of dolphin skins above.                                                                           Exodus 26:14

Dolphin skins?  In the desert they're gonna find dolphin skins? Sure, they are. There has to be one huge leap of distance between the Hebrew word, תְּחָשִׁ֖ (tachish,) then and tachish now since these days, תְּחָשִׁ֖ (tachish,) is what Israelis call dachshund and they really don't look much like dolphins. But never mind; Gilad's declination of how names change, the official arguments, the need to look at ancient languages like Sumerian and Persian as well as Greek, Latin, and Arabic is pretty much a cosmic game of telephone. The "official" debates about which word will move forward is fascinating. We really do take the establishment of definitions for granted and maybe we shouldn't.  I wish I could've taken notes on this because I would love to relay the tale of how animals in ancient texts are not always the same animals in translation to Little Miss and Young Sir.

When Gilad spoke about the human-made aspects of Torah, he spoke at length about the prophet Ezra who is probably the first guy to read what we now know as a Torah scroll in public....and we'll get to that in a bit. This was a cosmic shift for Judaism. Most of what he said was new to me, although some things were familiar. They reinforced what I already believed is true about us as Jews: that we are a work in progress. Judaism constantly evolves. The clearest indication can be seen in the reclamation of Hebrew as a spoken language. It grows and changes and most importantly adapts with time and information. Whereas there are no jets, air conditioners, or passports mentioned in Tanakh, we still need those words in everyday speech; they have to come from someplace. Like France has its guardian of French language, Académie Française, Israel has the Academy of Hebrew Language. Not without its infighting, it's what drives Hebrew forward. And therein lies the conviction that we do go forward, that we are not mired in another time or place. Hell, even the Haredim use computers. 

This is about much more than spoken language...it's how we got to be in the here and now...not in an echo chamber nor in a vacuum. We went from clan to tribe to people to a nation with a written history while much of the rest of the world was still unable to write. Written language, be it hieroglyphs or simple strokes of letter is a watershed event in any cultural identity. Once it's inscribed on stone, or clay, or  parchment, there is a record you can follow. 

When written Paleo-Hebrew is first seen around the 10th century B.C.E. changes progress. Stuff starts to be written down. Bit by bit we create a story for ourselves that can be repeated. Even when we were forced away from Jerusalem and the surrounding areas, our uniqueness begins to solidify. In the mid 5th century B.C.E., Nehemiah, forner cupbearer to the Babylonian king, is sent back to rebuild Jerusalem as governor of Judea. During his tenure, a radical event occurs: Ezra the scribe sits at the Water Gate in Jerusalem and reads a scroll to the people.

…the entire people assembled as one man in the square before the Water Gate, and they asked Ezra the scribe to bring the scroll of the Teaching of Moses with which the LORD had charged Israel. 

On the first day of the seventh month, Ezra the priest brought the Teaching before the congregation, men and women and all who could listen with understanding. He read from it, facing the square before the Water Gate, from the first light until midday, to the men and the women and those who could understand; the ears of all the people were given to the scroll of the Teaching. Ezra the scribe stood upon a wooden tower made for the purpose, and beside him stood Mattithiah, Shema, Anaiah, Uriah, Hilkiah, and Maaseiah at his right, and at his left Pedaiah, Mishael, Malchijah, Hashum, Hashbaddanah, Zechariah, Meshullam. Ezra opened the scroll in the sight of all the people, for he was above all the people; as he opened it, all the people stood up. 

Ezra blessed the LORD, the great God, and all the people answered, “Amen, Amen,” with hands upraised. Then they bowed their heads and prostrated themselves before the LORD with their faces to the ground. They read from the scroll of the Teaching of God, translating it and giving the sense; so they understood the reading.                                                               Nehemiah 8:1-8

This may very well have been the first public reading of Torah, and Gilad pointed out this was also the first time most people heard about the fall harvest holiday and building sukkah, something that, for us, is a basic part of the holiday. The reading of what is believed to be the Book of Deuteronomy is an important step in a renewal of the law as written. Once it is written the law becomes part of the people. The words matter. 

As you, gentle readers, already know, I've been blathering away on Monday nights for 15 years. That's 787 posts (not including this one) and a whole lotta words. Sometimes, I hit the mark, other times, not so much. Not important....it ain't baseball and I don't get a batting average in the blogosphere. What I do get, however, is a weekly dose of words....have i used the right one? Am I repetitious in my word choice? Am I conveying precisely what I wish (or should that be want) to convey? In fifty years, will my intent on the page change with the changes in spoken English? 

When Perdie and I went to the cemetery on Thursday, I told my dad what I was going to be attending this weekend. I could almost hear his chortle as I explained how excited I was to be in the same room as Elon Gilad. As a devoted follower on Insta, I knew what I was getting into and I told Dad how sad I was that he could not be sitting beside me. He would've gone bonkers listening to Gilad. He woulda had a thousand questions and a driving desire to debate his conclusions. And I would've enjoyed every minute of that, too.

Mr. Gilad, you really missed something not having my dad in the room. I guess you just have to put up with me instead.

Still short. 

The Wifely Person's Tip o'the Week

You may not be able to really go home again,

but it feels so good to have a sojourn in the place of one's birth.

Especially if there is salt in the air.