True Ancestor

Of Lasik, lighters and leaves: a family snapshot

Before the trip to London turned all seriously Jewish, it was, according to Gabe, "the best vacation ever." The One True Wife, the Daughters, Gabe and I were guided for three days by Oldest Daughter to all sorts of London wonders. The British Museum, the Natural History Museum, Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum (I missed that one, but it was a huge hit with Gabe), the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, Camden Market, Borough Hall Market (where we were filmed tasting a young chef's creations for a UKTV cooking show), tea in Kensington Gardens, and a mediocre but visually beautiful production of The Lion King were among the highlights. Trivia: Did you know that London's museums now charge no admission?

Gabe, still captivated by his recently completed 6th-grade leaf identification project, was still bent on collecting leaves. He kept diving on specimens he hadn't found stateside and dreaming of turning in a project that had leaves from Europe.

While the daughters have sophisticated and fairly established tastes, Gabe's tastes are only now emerging: he is a redneck. Either that or he has a great future as an ATF agent. His principal passions are cars, weapons and lighters. And in the markets we visited, he went on a very focused search for the lighter of his dreams.

Did you know that old lighters are collectors' items? That lighters, like watches, can be amazingly cheap and ridiculously expensive? A vendor at the one market stall showed us an old Dunhill lighter with a built-in miniature clock that he was about to sell to a doctor for ten thousand dollars.

In the end, Gabe bought a lighter (without lighter fluid, of course) that felt right in his hand, that made that important, shmik sound when you opened it, and that was black and shiny. It's his talisman.

After the rest of the family went home on Sunday, I had some one-on-one time with Oldest Daughter, who is -- lo and behold -- a woman. (When did that happen?) She is ambitious and focused and introspective and very, very wise for her age. She gave me more advice -- more dispassionate, considered counsel -- than I gave her. I felt I probably ought to pay her for it, so at the end of my trip I gave her my extra pounds (money; not, alas, weight).

Back on this side of the Atlantic, the wife had Lasik surgery yesterday. This would normally not merit a mention, but two weeks ago, in her pre-op exam, the wife passed out, and they briefly had trouble finding a pulse (Rabbi Tatz, a doctor and medical ethicist, told me that pressure on the eyeball can cause a sudden drop in blood pressure). So they rescheduled the operation for yesterday, and the surgeon and attending nurses approached the wife the way a florist would handle a rare orchid.

I sat in the next room and watched the procedure, via a closed-circuit camera affixed to the doctor's forehead. I sat amazed (and, OK, a little queasy) as, one by one, the Wife's eyes were propped open, her tear ducts sealed, the cornea peeled back and lasered, and everything cleaned up, unfolded and put back in place.

On the drive home from the procedure, the Wife was already marveling at the clarity of small details. I am still on London time, so I'm writing this at 3:30 AM CDT; she's upstairs, sleeping in Kareem Abdul-Jabbar-type goggles, looking forward to waking up and, presto, seeing everything. Here's hoping.

In a few hours, the day will begin; Gabe will shuffle down to the breakfast table, lighter in hand; the Wife will be thrilled at being able to do her morning exercise without glasses on; and I'll read the paper, drink coffee, and be grateful for it all.

--T.A.

Orthodoxy and Meditation: Having a go at at the Jewish Learning Exchange

Last night, the main hall at the Jewish Learning Exchange in London was packed with people, probably more than 200, to hear Rabbi Tatz and me speak about Letters to a Buddhist Jew, our experience of working on it together, and my particular, and peculiar, spiritual path.

To my delight, Oldest Daughter was in attendance as well. She's in the final weeks of a semester at King's College here in London, and had never heard me speak about the book or my own spiritual odyssey before.

The audience was very attentive, very polite and asked very intelligent questions, as have all the groups I've spoken to here. A couple of people approached me afterwards who were full of vitriol about Orthodox Judaism, and who were disappointed because they felt I was too much of an apologist for Orthodoxy. While I made clear (I hope) that I'm not Orthodox, I also tried to emphasize that Orthodox Judaism is a storehouse of incredible wisdom. Most Orthodox Jewish practice has, however, become cerebral and exclusive, and many Jews don't feel compelled to become part of that, or even investigate it.

Nonetheless, I told one gentleman who was disappointed in me that, as Franz Rosenzweig said, Judaism is like a landscape painting: just as there are many ways of the eye to enter a landscape, there are innumerable ways for a person to explore Judaism and to find meaning in it. I also tried to say to this guy, reasonable and polite as he was, that his expectations were not my problem.

Today I'll engage in Round 2 of a lively discussion with Rabbi Aaron (Aubrey) Hersh, who is, if you'll pardon the expression, hell-bent on making me an Orthodox Jew. I guess I've been too influenced by Zen to find his efforts either appealing or insulting. I am fascinated by people who are certain they possess the Truth, and Rabbi Hersh is one of those.

There is a truth beyond logic that the original Rabbis understood, but that Judaism today is in peril of losing, and which Orthodoxy has all but lost. Rabbi Hersh has tried to impress upon me that the tenets and historical facts undergirding Orthodox Judaism are "True," and asks me for my refutation. My answer to him is that light is both wave and particle. That there is such a thing as the sound of one hand clapping. And that the true/false dichotomy isn't up to the task of grasping or communicating the paradoxical nature of our existence (there's a self, there is no self).

I got the entire room to engage in a 3-minute, silent objectless meditation. No one in attendance could remember so many observant Jews, in one place, being so quiet for so long. I said this experience was nothing but the experience of existing, a miraculous and paradoxical movement called "life" that must be contemplated, simply and silently, to open us to greater truth and a richer experience of being alive.

Many in the audience at JLE last night expressed a palpable thirst for learning to meditate in a Jewish context, and Rabbi Tatz admitted that Jewish meditation is a valid practice and that it can be taught. People asked why the JLE doesn't teach it; the answer, between the lines, seemed to be that it is not something that this generation of rabbis has learned or practiced.

I probably was the first non-Orthodox presenter at JLE. That was an honor that I hope they'll extend to others, who are seeking in Judaism what is there in rich but neglected veins of the tradition.

--T.A.

London calls

The One True Wife, Middle Daughter and I have made the trek across the Atlantic to visit Oldest Daughter toward the end of her semester at King's College in London. I'm exploiting this family sojourn to give a few talks with my esteemed co-author, Rabbi Akiva Tatz. The first two of these were given back-to-back at the Jewish Free School, London's centuries-old Jewish school which a few years ago, with considerable help from the state, built an entire campus that puts to shame every Jewish school and most other schools I've seen (including the ones I attended).

Not just the facilities were first rate but the students were, too. Despite being the U.S. equivalent of seniors and facing serious exams, they were polite, attentive, curious, and full of probing questions. Talking to them, I realized that my spiritual journey may have seemed a little abstract to them, but my spiritual path and theirs through life and general, were probably very similar. Having slept only two hours on the plan, I felt toward the end of the second talk as though I might be hallucinating a little, but Rabbi Tatz, the consummate host, took very good care of me: secured me bagels and cups of coffee, took me to the Jewish Learning Exchange, where he and I are speaking on Monday evening, and before all that made sure that a driver picked us up at the airport, dropped us at our hotel and then whisked me to meet him at the school.

I haven't been to London in almost two decades. It's now bristling with growth and wealth: the skyline teems with ostentatious architectural statements and construction cranes. The Brits have cut back on their smoking and carbs, and can now be found jogging along the South Bank and sipping upmarket coffee at innumerable coffee bars (only some of which are Starbucks). The traffic crawls over the ancient roads; the British Pound hammers the measly dollar into submission.

We had Thanksgiving dinner with some American friends in a suburb of London. One of their three kids was born in the States and was eight years old when the family moved to London. The other two children, twins, were only two when the move was made. The oldest sounds and seems thoroughly American. Of the twins, one has only the slightest hint of an English accent, and the other, to our tinny American ears, sounded completely British (thought the family claimed that Brits can immediately identify her as an American). This family has taken joint citizenship, because, 10 years on, they feel quite at home in Britain, and appreciate the lack of hysterical emphasis on athletic achievement and cliquishness in the schools, and the more relaxed nature of British life in general.

Our family time has been tourist time: museums, parks, changings of the guard at Buckingham Palace, posing for pictures with Beefeaters at the Tower of London and with wax mock-ups of celebrities at Madame Tussaud's, shopping in Covent Garden, Borough Market and Harrod's, topped off today with afternoon tea at the Orangerie by Kensington Castle.

I face three days here after the family goes home, giving more talks with Rabbi Tatz. I struggle to revive my Buddhist years in my mind, and convey the meaning and vividness of that time to audiences as diverse as high school students, businessmen on their lunch break, and Orthodox Jews. It seems like a long time ago.

And as we walk through London, I find myself dropping back behind my daughters so that I can watch them walking arm-in-arm with the Wife, or chasing Gabe, or simply being women in the great, wide world. They are compulsive picture takers, partly because digital cameras make this possible, partly because they feel we never took enough pictures of them when they were growing up.

Now, as my eyes attest and as the camera confirms, they really are women, and I really am getting old. It's not such a bad feeling (yet), and they are a wonderful site to behold (still). This trip is a gift from the fates to the five of us, a reminder of how, in spite of it all, we became a family.

--T.A.

A Boycott for Shoaib Choudhury's life

If the Blogosphere is good for anything, it ought to be good for saving a life -- or at least for sending a message about that life.

Although Bangladesh has been hit by a cataclysmic storm of the meteorological variety, its corrupt and extremist court system seems likely to pursue its persecution of Choudhury for, among other things, his pro-Israel views and his willingness to speak out against that corruption.

If you're planning to do holiday shopping soon, take a good look at the list below: our global economy offers a good deal of support for industries that undergird extremist regimes, including the one in Bangladesh.

Will you buy from them anyway? Or will you send a message that this individual's rights and principles, and the openness for which he stands, are worth more to you?

This from Dr. Richard Benkin, one of Choudhury's American advocates:

November 15, 2007, was supposed to be just another one of the seemingly endless string of pro forma court appearances for Salah Uddin Shoaib Choudhury.  It was his 36th in the 31 months since his release from prison.  They are pure harassment carried out in a deliberate effort to silence him.  They are draining his physical, financial, and emotional resources and all have the same tedious and soul-numbing pattern :  Shoaib is called to appear as the court opens; he is forced to sit for hours upon hours; and finally, the judge tells him that he is ordered to return in another few weeks.  Bad enough; but November 15 was not more of the same.  After making Shoaib wait for several hours—that did not change—Judge Azizul Haque berated him because the Supreme Court had not yet heard him appeal.  He then to the Public Prosecutor and asked him what he thought should be done.  Ehsanul Haque Shomaji replied that the judge should revoke his bail.

Now, government spokesmen have been telling to leave them be, that the matter is in the hands of the court, and that the government really cannot interfere.  That certainly does not sync with what happened on November 15!  The military-backed government's action was illegal, as well, since bail is guaranteed under Bangladeshi law while the appeal is pending.  But little has been done in Shoaib's case that accords with the law; radical Islamists still rule the roost in Dhaka, and call the tune to which the government dances  lies and transparent delaying tactics.  They have told me explicitly that they plan to 'wait us out' on this.

Eventually, Shoaib’s bail was restored, but only until December 13 when he again faces potential re-incarceration.  That will be the fifth attempt to throw him back in prison since we secured his release.  Even though the judge and public prosecutor acted in gross violation of Bangladeshi law, the government refuses to take any action.  All of it underscores Shoaib's precarious position while the admittedly false and capital charges remain pending.  It brings home starkly how his freedom--perhaps his life--remain in danger.  But each one of you can do something to help Shoaib and the cause of justice.

Garment exports to the West, especially the United States, are the lifeblood of the Bangladeshi economy.  The holiday shopping season is upon us, and retailers depend on these sales for their economic health.  I do not like the word, boycott, but I do have a choice where to spend my own money.  Personally, I do not want to support an economy that openly supports radical Islamists (the government has admitted numerous times that this is the sole reason why the charges remain) and oppresses heroes who oppose the radicals.  Everyone can exercise that same choice.  I have listed the top importers of Bangladeshi textiles below and am asking everyone to contact each of them.  (If you are not in the US, write to the top importers in your country or we can help you identify them if you want.) Tell them that you will refrain from patronizing them until they either stop purchasing Bangladeshi goods or until Bangladesh drops the admittedly false charges against Salah Uddin Shoaib Choudhury—a man who has been honored for his fight against radicals and his support of interfaith understanding by the US Congress, European Parliament, Australian Senate, and others; who has been awarded numerous international prizes for his struggle.  Yet, the Bangladeshi government—in defiance of them all—still harasses this man and threatens him with a potential death sentence for those same efforts.  Remind them that there are plenty nations who would love to supply them with their textile products.  Why do they choose to buy from Bangladesh when it gives aid and comfort to our enemies.

Each of you can be a human rights champion by doing that; you can do even by getting others to do the same.  The Bangladeshi government has turned a deaf ear to international pleas for justice, appeals to human rights and a free press, and even requests by the United States Congress.  They have spurned offers to help them with various problems they face, all because they refuse to "anger the [Islamist] radicals," as they have told me again and again.

WAL-MART, INC.
H. Lee Scott, Jr.                                                             Bob Walton
President and Chief Executive Officer                               Chairman, Board of Directors
Wal-Mart Stores, Inc.                                                     Wal-Mart Stores, Inc.
702 S.W. 8th Street                                                       702 S.W. 8th Street
Bentonville, Arkansas 72716                                           Bentonville, Arkansas 72716
Phone: +1-479-273-4000                                                 Phone: +1-479-273-4000

Wal-Mart’s Global Ethics Office: ethics@wal-mart.com

Congressman:   John Boozman (R AR-3) He also was the Republican floor leader for HR64 on Shoaib’s behalf.
Senators:          Blanche Lambert Lincoln (D) and Mark Pryor (D)

THE GAP, INC.
Robert J. Fisher
Chairman of the Board of Directors and Interim Chief Executive Officer
Gap, Inc.
Two Folsom Street
San Francisco, CA 94105
USA
Phone: 650-952-4400

The Gap’s Board of Directors: board@gap.com

Corporate Compliance Department: corporate_compliance@gap.com

Congressmanwoman:  Nancy Pelosi (D CA-8)  She is also Speaker of the US House.
Senators:                   Diane Feinstein (D) and Barbara Boxer (D).

NIKE, INC.
Philip H. Knight                                                 Mark Parker
Chairman of the Board of Directors                      President & Chief Executive Officer
Nike World Headquarters                                   Nike, Inc. Nike, Inc.
One Bowerman Drive                                         One Bowerman Drive
Beaverton, OR 97005-6453                                 Beaverton, OR 97005-6453
Phone: 1-800-344-6453                                      Phone: 1-800-344-6453

Nike’s Corporate Responsibility Governance: nikeresponsibility@nike.com

Congressman:   David Wu (D OR-1)
Senators:          Ron Wyden (D) and Gordon Smith (R)

VF CORPORATION
Mackey J. McDonald                                         Eric C. Wiseman
Chairman and Chief Executive Officer                  President and Chief Operating Officer
105 Corporate Center Blvd.                                105 Corporate Center Blvd.
Greensboro NC 27408                                       Greensboro NC 27408
Phone: 336.424.6000                                         Phone: 336.424.6000

Cindy Knoebel, Vice-president for corporate communication: corporate_communications@vfc.com

Congressman:  Coble (R NC-6)
Senators:         Elizabeth Dole (R) and Richard Burr (R)

PHILLIPS-VAN HEUSEN CORPORATION
Emanuel Chirico
Chairman and Chief Executive Officer
Phillips-Van Heusen Corporation
200 Madison Avenue
New York, NY 10016
USA
Phone: 212-381-3500
Fax: 212-381-3950

Congresswoman:           Carolyn B. Maloney (D NY-14)
Senators:                      Charles Schumer (D) and Hilary Rodham Clinton (D)

This is something everyone can do, and Shoaib is depending on us all.  He has stood up against those who would kill us, even at the risk of his own life.  Let us all stand with him.  The time is right.  Bangladesh has refused the carrot; perhaps it is time for the stick.

At least give it some thought before you head to the mall.

--T.A.

Facebook and Family

I seem to have crossed some invisible, digital line with my daughters by creating a Facebook page.

Oldest Daughter, whom we'll soon be visiting in London, has not responded to my request for Facebook friendship (extended several days ago). Middle Daughter was absolutely horrified to peek over my shoulder at home the other evening and find me navigating around Facebook.

"What are you doing?! You're on Facebook?! Why?!!"

Her tone indicated that there'd be no good answer to that question, but I did my best: I explained that friends of mine were on facebook, far-flung relatives stay in touch with it, authors are on it (some are in several of those categories at once); in short, in some ways it's far more efficient for staying in touch than e-mail, especially if you want to communicate with a group of people (family, people with similar interests, etc.).

"Oh, and by the way," I said, "when I search for you on Facebook, you're nowhere to be found."

"Ah-hah!," she crowed. "That's because I don't want you to find me!" Middle Daughter has disguised her identity. And she explained why: friends can find her, but employers -- or teachers, or parents, or perverts (which are all really one and the same, as far as she's concerned) -- cannot.

Then Middle Daughter told me how to find her page. I find that I don't want to look at it. There are some things about your kids that you really are better off not knowing, some circles you're better off not peeping into. Especially when those kids are over 18 and generally solid citizens, as The Daughters are.

It's funny how sites like Facebook start for exclusive communities and then cannot resist the breach of exclusivity. The Web is either horribly perverted, relentlessly democratic or neurotically secretive. I work under the assumption that my every keystroke will someday be discoverable, and I have to both be careful and inure myself to that concern.

So piss off.

No, just kidding! Really!

--T.A.

Buddhist Boomers and the future of cross-pollinating religion

Last Friday's online edition of the Wall Street Journal featured an article -- can you believe it?! -- on "Buddhist Boomers" and the future of American Buddhism.

The author, Clark Strand, identified a critical weakness in the contemporary practice of Buddhism in the U.S. -- a weakness, as is so often the case with religion in the West, that has been disguised as strength. And that is that "from the beginning, Buddhism has been seen in its American incarnation not as an alternative religion, but as an alternative to religion."

He's right. In fact, my Zen teacher impressed upon me (and I know many JuBus to believe) that Zen can be practiced with any religion -- that it is not a religion per se but, as Strand puts it, "an elaborate thought experiment being conducted by society at large."

Many interesting questions arise here, and Strand addresses some of them: Is it better to have a religion than an "empirically based spiritual practice"? (Yes.) Why should we care if Buddhist Boomers don't give their kids a Buddhist religious education? ("This has the advantage of giving Buddhist children great freedom of religious expression with the disadvantage of not giving them any actual religion to express. The result is a generation of children with a Buddhist parent or two but no Buddhist culture to grow up in.")

Strand points out that Sam Harris' (largely ignorant) portrayal of Buddhism as a religion unburdened by superstition, dogma or dark history makes it less than a religion -- devoid of both religion's strengths and its weaknesses. There is no culture that can grow in its sterilized soil; then again, there are no weeds in which charlatans and murderers can lurk.

The larger issue is the one of how we Boomers approach religion: if a faith tradition is flawed, we must spare our children its entirety. If it is not completely, empirically true, it can't be trusted at all. And if it comes with a culture whose history is tainted with any violence, any failure, any brain-washing masquerading as folk-tale wisdom -- well, better to throw it all out. Our children should know our truth, our perspective; that way, they can make up their own minds.

Sometimes I agree. Usually, however, this approach seems to me like saying, "I don't want to mess up my kid's mind with all that crazy aerodynamics and aerospace engineering. When she's old enough, she'll figure it out and build her own plane."

Strand, a former Zen monk, sounds like my kind of monk. He tells Buddhists seeking to integrate family life with Buddhist tradition to look for instructive examples at, say, a local synagogue. He has a book coming out from Doubleday called How to Believe in God (Whether You Believe in Religion or Not). He lives in Woodstock, NY, and teaches a class called Koans of the Bible.

Now there's a teacher worth learning from.

(h/t: my co-author on Letters to a Buddhist Jew, Rabbi Akiva Tatz)

--T.A.

If it's more popular than porn, it's worth taking note of.

That would be Facebook.

As a member of "Generation Aleph" (I think I made that up), I'm one of those who has rediscovered their Jewish spiritual DNA. But I'm also a creaky, cranky, middle-aged fart who feels like an idiot, or a hanger-on, or some South Park perv, for even going on a social networking site like Facebook.

But Facebook knew about me before I even knew about it, so I figured I had to go on there, create a profile, see what further friendships awaited me. The introductions Facebook was waiting to make were kind of eerie: people I'd met once, relatives I hadn't seen in 20 years, people who'd read my book, kindred spirits, all hovering in the ether.

Whippersnappers are so busy connecting and networking via Facebook that they are spending less time fantasizing about more old-fashioned connections: visits to pornography Web sites have dropped by a third, according to TIME, and that's in large part because, for "Generation Y" (under 25) college students and individuals, porn ranks 4th in popularity of Web categories, whereas for the over-25 set, porn comes in 2nd (clearly, we in Generation Aleph need more refreshers than do the young). Since the young rely on the Web even more than Boomers do, porn is actually in decline.

If you're reading this, odds are you're either a member of "Generation Y" or "Generation Aleph." There's also a good chance you've spent more time on Facebook than surfing porn web sites.

Keep it up.

The good work, that is.

--T.A.

The Sears Tower, Alan Dershowitz and Martin Buber: Thoughts on a Brief Ascent

Sunday, as I was climbing 2,109 steps -- ascending 1,353 vertical feet in the process, during the world's longest indoor stair-climb -- I had the time, and the motivation, to set my mind elsewhere. These climbs are relentless, endless -- then, suddenly, they're over. They're hard work, they're paralyzing, they're inspirational. They're life in a nutshell.

I wanted to think but I couldn't until I got home. It's hard to think when your lungs are working that hard.

So I came home, had some coffee and lots of water, and set to thinking: why does what we believe, or what wisdom tradition we follow, matter? Why does any of it matter?

I had two weighty tomes to consider: Alan Dershowitz's The Vanishing American Jew: In Search of Jewish Identity for the Next Century, and Martin Buber's Moses: The Revelation and the Covenant. The former purports to set historical context and then make a case for the continuous necessity of the refashioning of Jewish identity, in the same way that any organism constantly refashions itself. The latter looks at the Revelation at Sinai as a historical event of surpassing importance in human history, captured in Biblical text and infused with layers of meaning beyond anything a mortal mind could fashion.

Any human endeavor is just a stair-climb: great heights achieved -- elevator down. Fleeting. Borderline meaningless. Attaining a height opens vast panoramas of understanding that may inspire you -- but how do you share it? How do you pass it on?

Dershowitz's book, which is scarcely a decade old, seems more dated than Buber's, which is four decades older. Dershowitz's concern is a fleeting one, whereas Buber's is transcendent. Dershowitz wants Judaism to survive but it doesn't seem that he can say exactly why. It matters to him, it's been meaningful in human history, even though the theology is inscrutable and the extreme adherents are depriving the larger kehilah of a desire to belong or to grow in their Judaism.

Dershowitz says that anti-Semitism is all but dead, that "it may become in the twenty-first century a faint shadow of what it has been in the past two millennia." His focus for most of the book is on the survival of the moral, ethical and cultural uniqueness of Judaism, and on the dangers of success and comfort to the survival of the Jewish project. It's only toward the end of the book that Dershowitz turns his attention to what made that uniqueness possible.

We must make Jewish education important not only to the survival of Jewish life but also to success in life in general. We must devise curricula that use Jewish sources to provide all students with competitive advantages in their business, professional and personal lives. We must persuade our children that studying Jewish sources will make them not only better Jews, but also better lawyers, doctors, corporate executives, teachers, literary critics, husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, and citizens. Best-selling books have been written about how the teachings of Confuscius, Jesus, Machiavelli -- even Ghenghis Khan -- can lead to success. Why not the writings of the Prophets, Maimonides, Rabbi Akiba, Israel Salanter, Joseph Soloveichik, and Ahad Ha'am? Jewish scholarship has always balanced the practical with the theoretical. The traditional rabbi was as much a dispenser of pragmatic business advice as of ritual guidance. The modern rabbi and teacher must bring the Jewish sources alive and make them relevant to the current generation of students.

It is the essence of the Jewish vision that Buber always understood, was ever fascinated by, and bringing Jewish sources alive his singular gift. His brilliant take on the Divne Name ehyeh asher ehyeh goes to the burning essence of that vision.

And it is God Himself who unfolds his name after this fashion. The exclamation was its hidden form; the verb its revelation. And in order to make it clear beyond all possiblity of misapprehension that the direct word ehyeh explains the indirect name, Moses is first instructed, by an exceptionally daring linguistic device, to tell the people "Ehyeh, 'I shall be present', or 'I am present', sends me to you," and immediately afterwards: "YHVH the God of your fathers sends me to you." That Ehyeh is not a name; the God can never be named so; only on this one occasion, in this sole moment of transmitting his work, is Moses allowed and ordered to take the God's self-comprehension in his mouth as a name ...

The meaning of the name is usually ascribed to the "Elohist," to whose source this section of the narrative is attributed. But quite apart from the fact that there was no Elohist in this sense and that, as has been said, if we eliminate complements and supplements, we find a uniform and firmly constructed narrative -- such discoveries or conversions are not born at the writing desk. A speech like this ehyeh asher ehyeh does not belong to literature but to the sphere attained by the founders of religion. If it is theology, it is that archaic theology which, in the form of a historical narrative, stands at the threshold of every genuine historical religion ...

At his relatively late period Moses did not establish the religious relationship between Bnei Israel and YHVH. He was not the first to utter that "primal sound" in enthusiastic astonishment. That may have been done by somebody long before who, driven by an irresistible force along a new road, now felt himself to be preceded along that road by "him,"  the invisible one who permitted himself to be seen. But it was Moses who, on this religious relationship, established a covenant between the God and "his people." Nothing of such a kind can be imagined except on the assumption that a relationship which had come down from ancient times has been melted in the fire of some new personal experience. The foundation takes place before the assembled host; the experience is undergone in solitude."

By the time I reached the 103rd floor at about 8:10 Sunday morning, I was sweaty and tired. I had done something arduous and meaningless. I wanted to think again. I came home and, after the coffee and the water, took an Advil and wondered again about what can't be solved and wrote about it here. The Sears Tower and Buber and Dershowitz all came together because they all made me think about what matters and why.

And that was my Sunday.

--T.A.

Housing Wonks vs. Religion Geeks

Most of the past two days were spent in the company of some of the country's most impressive housing policy professionals, who were convened in Washington, DC, by the MacArthur Foundation as part of its initiative to preserve affordable housing.

MacArthur just tripled its investment in work to advocate for more effective affordable housing policy and data dissemination. The foundation's support for leading nonprofit developers and policy organizations is now at $150 million. So the folks at MacArthur's confabs are fascinating. It's a crowd on whose coattails I like to ride from time to time: I need their help understanding the labyrinthine ways of local, state and federal housing law and policy, and the arcana of affordable housing finance. I find these people voluble, friendly, principled, intelligent and genially competitive. They are a little on the frumpy side, but, hey, they work, for the most part, in the nonprofit or public sector. They buy off the sales rack. And they're proud of it.

And as I consider whether to go back to school and immerse myself in a study of the interaction of Judaism and Buddhism in the West, and to surround myself with religion wonks instead of housing policy propeller-heads, I find myself wondering:

Will I be doing myself or anyone else any good?

Are these disparate groups actually composed of the same kinds of people?

Will I have fun researching JuBus instead of stitching together affordable housing acquisition/rehabs?

Will my life have more meaning?

Will I wear better shoes?

--T.A.

Gabe in the morning

Gabe, 12, wakes up somber. He doesn't want to be touched or talked to. The prospect of the school day makes him anxious. He has a bowl of cereal and I read to him about all the White Sox' trade rumors from the Sports section of the paper.

Once he has a bowl of cereal in him, he becomes a human calliope, a boy beat-box: singing, doing percussion with his tongue and teeth, and producing goofy interpretations of everything from Israeli folk songs to Blue Danube to the theme song from Scrubs.

He loves to tease me and get me to chase him. Problem is, I can't catch him anymore. The One True Wife is "base," so if he can get to her and keep a hand on her, I can't "get" him. The Wife reads the paper and holds her tea with both hands, so Gabe' s abrupt lunges for "base" don't cause spills and recriminations.

He practices guitar for all of two minutes. He plays well but hates it. Our deal is that he can quit after his bar mitzvah (9/20/08), but not until then. He looks forward to making this decision.

At his parent-teacher conference two weeks ago, the teachers extolled his virtues but were quite surprised when told he spends two and a half hours on homework each night. He's a perfectionist, they said. This is something else, I said. This isn't perfectionism, it's anxiety.

He has very little use for the Jewish content of his curriculum -- or so he says. But his teachers of Hebrew and Mishnah say he is a wonderful, thoughtful student. And when we ask him if he'd like to switch to a public school --not an idle threat but a genuine offer -- the answer is an unhesitating "No," even though he'd know lots of kids there from the various sports he plays.

He sings to himself until it's time to leave for school. The more noises he makes, the happier I know he is.

He still likes to begin to doze off in our bed. Then he goes happily off to his own. He has an alarm clock, but he likes me to wake him up precisely at 7:15. I turn on the lights in his gekko's cage, and that's enough to wake him up. He swings his large (but still child's) feet over the edge of his bed, and dutifully begins again.

--T.A.