Introducing "Talking Torah"
A Substack on the weekly portion of the Torah
Who am I? Why am I here?
If you are of a certain age, you’ll remember that with these words Admiral James Stockdale, war hero and Ross Perot’s running mate in the 1992 Presidential election, introduced himself to America at the Vice Presidential debate. Stockdale, a political unknown, drew laughter with his opening question, which named exactly what we all were thinking. Ironically, the Admiral, who sounded almost a little dotty, was a noted Stoic philosopher (just read his paper on the philosopher Epictetus and you'll see). He was asking, with self-deprecating humor, two very deep questions.
Clip: Admiral Stockdale at the 1992 VP debate.
In the Admiral’s honor, I will answer his two questions to introduce this Substack, in which for the next annual Torah cycle year (distractions of life permitting) I will write about the weekly portion.
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Who am I? I’m a retired lawyer, husband, father, grandfather; lover of music, art, food and the Boston Celtics.
As for Torah, I was educated in a Jewish Day School but was mostly disengaged from my Judaism until my 30’s. I re-engaged when we joined a temple to send our kids to Hebrew school. Re-encountering the Torah and the commentaries was like eating comfort food from my childhood. That’s led to increasing involvement with Torah, as both student and teacher.
Why am I here? Thousands of years after it was written, the Torah continues to inspire. It provides a weekly treasure hunt for its continuing gifts: surprisingly relevant life lessons conveyed through a strange marking in the Torah scroll, a small letter, a typo preserved on purpose; a whole chapter devoted to burning incense; a story about two sisters fighting over flowers. It poses complex questions laying around in plain sight, such as “What kind of omnipotent and omniscient God creates a world only to promptly decide to destroy it with the flood?”
I don’t believe the Torah was written on Mount Sinai. It is an inspired book, even a holy one. But it was written by humans and I read it as such. It contains noble but flawed characters whose mistakes are as important as their virtues. I approach it as literature, myth, a legal code, and sometimes a self-help book.
I love the Hebrew language, its compactness, the way it builds on word roots with its flexible conjugation, and the many untranslatable phrases that cause a dozen commentaries to bloom. The narrative style is spare: a pointed silence, a strange usage, a pun. I try to convey those nuances to the non-Hebrew speaker.
I also admire Buddhist teachings. All those wise Bhu-Jews who helped bring this wisdom to the West: Joseph Goldstein, Sylvia Boorstein, Sharon Salzberg, Ram Das, et al. Finding places in the Torah that overlap with Buddhist wisdom excites me. Like finding the four noble truths scattered in Genesis (Adam and Eve are sentenced to suffer, that’s the first noble truth). Or that God’s name revealed to Moses at the Burning Bush, “Eheye Asher Eheye” (meaning “I will be what I will be”), evokes holiness in being present, with equanimity.
One of my teachers, Rabbi Victor Reinstein, is fond of saying that “Studying Torah is not about there and then; it’s about here and now.” Finding relevance and resilience in ancient text is one of the great joys of Torah study.
That is what I hope to convey to readers and why I started writing Talking Torah.
Payment. This Substack is free. Some have already pledged to sponsor it, for which I’m deeply grateful. Though there is no “pay wall”, for those considering a paid subscription, please know that very dollar I receive will be donated to charity.
B’vracha (with blessings),
Rich