With this week’s Torah portion, Bereshit (Genesis 1:1-6:8), we begin a new cycle of Torah readings. No wonder that we somehow feel that the new year has finally really begun. It is also the beginning of a new academic year for many of us. No wonder that “newness” is in the air.
I invite you to imagine yourself as Adam or Eve. Put yourself in their shoes. Remember that, as the very first humans, they had a most unique perspective on every aspect of a newly created world. Their reactions to their surroundings and to each other had no precedent.
Anyone who has ever taught anything can confirm the adage of our Sages: "I have learned from all my teachers, but I have learned most from my pupils."
Loyal readers of this weekly column will remember Richard, Leon, and Simon. They were the three young men who signed up for my class on the Book of Genesis, Sefer Bereshit, many years ago. I then used Genesis as the source text for an introductory course on basic Jewish philosophy.
"The book of Bereshit, of Genesis, is the worst possible choice of text for an introductory course to Judaism."
This happens all the time. You meet someone new, either being introduced to him by someone else, or taking the initiative yourself by saying, "Hi, my name is Tzvi Hersh. What is yours?"
"In the beginning, the Almighty created the heavens and the earth." Genesis 1:1.
I have been an avid reader of books about the psychology of religion since I was an adolescent. I remember going to the local public library and systematically taking out every book on the shelves that related to the topic of the human phenomenon of religious behavior.
We all have lifelong interests. For some of us, they are hobbies or avocations. For others, they may be art or literature. My lifelong interest has been philosophy, and more specifically, theology.
How does the poet get started on the process of writing a poem, or the songwriter as he sets about composing a song? Does he or she look at the environment, at what is going on in the world and seek inspiration from things external? Or does the creative artist look within, using introspection as a tool to uncover emotions out of which the poem or song can be fashioned? These questions can be asked about all creative processes, not just writing. They can be asked of the graphic artist, of the composer of music, of the sculptor.
It was advertised as one symposium at a major psychology conference. It was to be a discussion about memory and forgetfulness. But it turned out to be one of the most intense and instructive days that I have ever witnessed.
It was advertised as one symposium at a major psychology conference. It was to be a discussion about memory and forgetfulness. But it turned out to be one of the most intense and instructive days that I have ever witnessed.
He was one of the greatest Talmud scholars of the last century, but outside of a small circle of disciples, he was never well-known. He was a tragic figure in many ways, and although few have heard of him today, he has not been totally forgotten.
It is the last Sabbath of this year. In just a few days we usher in a New Year, and by the time we read the next Torah portion it will already be the year 5774.
For the past several weeks, certain ideas have dominated my consciousness. Don't worry, these are not obsessive thoughts, and I am not a candidate for a psychiatric diagnosis. Rather, whenever I prepare a speech lately, or sit down to write a column such as this, I can't help but think about a particular set of political principles.
All men are mortal. Yankel is a man. Therefore, Yankel is mortal.
"Thank you." I think that those two words are the most important two words in our language...