Sunday, January 21, 2007
What are we teaching our children?
One thing about traveling is that you get to speak and meet people that you'd never get to meet in your own communities. Interestingly, when I say I'm from Israel, it brings out the conversation in the people around me - the woman on the train who asked me if I had to wear a burkaon the streets in Israel, the man sitting next to me on the airplane who was returning from a protest march, the taxi driver, whoever. And I'm always learning new things. For instance, last week I experienced an interesting contrast between religious Jewish attitudes and religious Christian attitudes to Bible:
In El Paso, the driver of the hotel shuttle, a religious Catholic originally from Mexico, was very excited to meet someone from the 'Holy Land' and told me that he reads the Bible daily. He begins with the Old Testament, moves on to the New Testament and when he finishes begins the cycle again. He's been doing this all his life and can quote by heart much of the Bible. His respect for the Bible contrasted sharply with someone I met later that same week - a 13-year from a community day school on the west coas who explained to me that he had to complete his Humash-learning by 8th grade. "Because" he said "in high school (read: Yeshiva) I plan on studying only Gemara." He also explained to me that Gemara was all-important since "from Gemara we learn how God thinks!" (Torah, on the other hand was just his written words.) He had learnt this from his 7th grade Jewish Studies teacher (Rebbe) who gives them weekly 'lessons' on the importance of Gemara (and subsequently, the unimportance of Tanakh).
In El Paso, the driver of the hotel shuttle, a religious Catholic originally from Mexico, was very excited to meet someone from the 'Holy Land' and told me that he reads the Bible daily. He begins with the Old Testament, moves on to the New Testament and when he finishes begins the cycle again. He's been doing this all his life and can quote by heart much of the Bible. His respect for the Bible contrasted sharply with someone I met later that same week - a 13-year from a community day school on the west coas who explained to me that he had to complete his Humash-learning by 8th grade. "Because" he said "in high school (read: Yeshiva) I plan on studying only Gemara." He also explained to me that Gemara was all-important since "from Gemara we learn how God thinks!" (Torah, on the other hand was just his written words.) He had learnt this from his 7th grade Jewish Studies teacher (Rebbe) who gives them weekly 'lessons' on the importance of Gemara (and subsequently, the unimportance of Tanakh).
Labels: Bible education, Talmud education
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Knowing your Bible
So Yuli Tamir, the Minister of Education here in Israel, is moving ahead with the idea of giving a more central focus to Tanakh in Israeli public schools. I think that it is a great idea. I am fascinated time and again when secular Israeli politicians of the older generation quote fairly obscure pesukim in order to make a point in a debate or an interview. It is part of their cultural heritage. They are not trying to "score points" with anyone (like American candidates who toss out a word or two in Yiddish when visiting one neighborhood, Spanish in the next and Chinese in a third), they are simple making use of imagery that makes them who they are. When I moved to Israel and the Meretz party was part of the coalition, Shulamit Aloni – an avowed secularist – was on the radio regularly. I don't think I ever heard her speak without quoting a pasuk or referring to a midrash. (Aloni has since retired from politics.)
The younger generation of Israeli politicians do not share that cultural heritage. They do not use biblical imagery, nor do they think in those terms – something that is sorely missing. Any plan to bring Tanakh back as a focus of educational endeavor, seems like a worthwhile effort to me.
Reading this makes me think about the state of Tanakh instruction in the Diaspora. I recently presented one of my doctoral research findings to a group of aspiring young American educators. I had collected surveys from several hundred students on one-year Israel programs and among the questions I asked was "Is the modern State of Israel a fulfillment of nevu'ot of our prophets?" Only about 15% agreed or strongly agreed to that statement. In contrast to this, a recent Pew Report found that almost 60% of white evangelical Protestants agreed or strongly agreed with a similar statement that was presented to them. When I asked my audience why they thought this might be true, the suggestion that struck me was "Well, the Christians actually know what the prophecies are – our students don't!"
Who is looking out for Tanakh studies in day school classrooms in the Diaspora?
The younger generation of Israeli politicians do not share that cultural heritage. They do not use biblical imagery, nor do they think in those terms – something that is sorely missing. Any plan to bring Tanakh back as a focus of educational endeavor, seems like a worthwhile effort to me.
Reading this makes me think about the state of Tanakh instruction in the Diaspora. I recently presented one of my doctoral research findings to a group of aspiring young American educators. I had collected surveys from several hundred students on one-year Israel programs and among the questions I asked was "Is the modern State of Israel a fulfillment of nevu'ot of our prophets?" Only about 15% agreed or strongly agreed to that statement. In contrast to this, a recent Pew Report found that almost 60% of white evangelical Protestants agreed or strongly agreed with a similar statement that was presented to them. When I asked my audience why they thought this might be true, the suggestion that struck me was "Well, the Christians actually know what the prophecies are – our students don't!"
Who is looking out for Tanakh studies in day school classrooms in the Diaspora?
Labels: Bible education
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Boring Chumash
One Friday evening on Parshat Noach, our rabbi got up to speak. He chose to discuss the episode of the Tower of Bavel. He began by saying that he had read those nine verses so many times yet only this year had he finally understood it, i.e. God had previously declared that humanity should “fill the earth” (Genesis 1:28). Yet the people of Shinar built the tower “so that they will not be scattered across the face of the earth” (ibid 11:4). They tried to thwart God’s will.
Unfortunately, my rabbi did not deal with the more obvious question he posed, how through his many years dedicated to scholarship, he missed such a blatant point. I decided to tell him why (after the service, of course).
The answer begins with my children’s Bible education. Every Friday night I discuss the parshat hashavua with them. I usually find it frustrating. Did my children (the oldest is 8) really have to be told that the Tower of Bavel was built in order to plug a hole in the sky to stop another flood? Did they really need to be told that Yitschak went willingly to the Akeida or that Sarah died after Satan told her that Avraham was about to or even had already sacrificed him? Was it so vital to the story that that they had to be told that Rivka was three years old when she married Yitzchak? Was it so essential to the storyline that they needed to be told that Pharaoh’s daughter’s arm expanded rapidly in length when she reached into the Nile to pick up baby Moshe? Was it so indispensable to the plot that they had to be told that there was only one frog and that each time the Egyptians hit it, it split up into many frogs? Etc.
Is the Chumash so boring that our teachers are forced to resort to midrash to “spice it up” or is it that they enjoy ridiculing it, so that the stories sound more like fairy tales rather than serious religious inquiry? Or perhaps, even more frighteningly, do they not really know how to teach Chumash?
While some Midrashim are cute, such as Avraham’s experiences in his father’s idol shop, most damage our ability (even as adults) to look at the text impartially (some even damage our respect for the text – but that’s another story!!).
My rabbi, whose scholarship and breadth of knowledge I respect, couldn’t see the obvious because whenever he read the story he couldn’t get out of his head the image of Nimrod climbing up a tall tower with an outstretched sword ready to ascend the heavens and engage God in combat.
I have no desire to mock Midrash. As someone who studied it in university, I really do appreciate its beauty and depth, but we must never forget that a Midrash is what it claims to be: “drash” and not “pshat”. Before we even begin to teach our children “drash” let’s first try to teach them “pshat”.
Unfortunately, my rabbi did not deal with the more obvious question he posed, how through his many years dedicated to scholarship, he missed such a blatant point. I decided to tell him why (after the service, of course).
The answer begins with my children’s Bible education. Every Friday night I discuss the parshat hashavua with them. I usually find it frustrating. Did my children (the oldest is 8) really have to be told that the Tower of Bavel was built in order to plug a hole in the sky to stop another flood? Did they really need to be told that Yitschak went willingly to the Akeida or that Sarah died after Satan told her that Avraham was about to or even had already sacrificed him? Was it so vital to the story that that they had to be told that Rivka was three years old when she married Yitzchak? Was it so essential to the storyline that they needed to be told that Pharaoh’s daughter’s arm expanded rapidly in length when she reached into the Nile to pick up baby Moshe? Was it so indispensable to the plot that they had to be told that there was only one frog and that each time the Egyptians hit it, it split up into many frogs? Etc.
Is the Chumash so boring that our teachers are forced to resort to midrash to “spice it up” or is it that they enjoy ridiculing it, so that the stories sound more like fairy tales rather than serious religious inquiry? Or perhaps, even more frighteningly, do they not really know how to teach Chumash?
While some Midrashim are cute, such as Avraham’s experiences in his father’s idol shop, most damage our ability (even as adults) to look at the text impartially (some even damage our respect for the text – but that’s another story!!).
My rabbi, whose scholarship and breadth of knowledge I respect, couldn’t see the obvious because whenever he read the story he couldn’t get out of his head the image of Nimrod climbing up a tall tower with an outstretched sword ready to ascend the heavens and engage God in combat.
I have no desire to mock Midrash. As someone who studied it in university, I really do appreciate its beauty and depth, but we must never forget that a Midrash is what it claims to be: “drash” and not “pshat”. Before we even begin to teach our children “drash” let’s first try to teach them “pshat”.
Labels: Bible education
