As official Jewish spokespeople weigh in on the new Pope, I find their analysis comes up short for my tastes.

Most concentrated on his membership in Hitler Youth (forgivable- it wasn’t his choice; there has been no trace of antisemitism in his work since) and the specific content of some of the works touching on Jews under his imprimatur (some liked it, some had it coming up short). All were at least mildly pleased, relieved, I suspect, that the choice wasn’t someone from a part of the world where Jews don’t matter, and where Liberation theology holds sway. In those circles, people with power, like Americans - or people thought to have power, like Jews - are sometimes seen automatically as the cause of oppression.

As a traditional Jew, separated by an unbridgeable chasm of belief, I nonetheless feel a certain affinity for Joseph Ratzinger, and I more than suspect that it is reciprocated.

Seems to me that there are three kinds of religious attitudes towards “the other.”

With everyone busy preparing for Pesach [Passover], I thought to pass along the following:

Ner L’Elef, a training institute for Jewish outreach and leadership based in Jerusalem, has published a Seder Guide written by Rabbi G. Moskowitz. It deserves wide distribution; there is something in it for anyone running a Seder. There are lots of instructions for those leading a Seder for the first time, as well as clarifications of applicable halachos [laws] and extensive footnotes for those familiar with Jewish legal texts.

There were two clarifications issued. First a correction:

On page 58, in Chapter 6, which discusses Erev Pesach that falls on Shabbos, the author wrote the following regarding the third meal:

There are good reasons why so many religious Jews – and the number is growing – go to hotels for Pesach. Some have too few people around the table to make a seder, while others have too many. There are the elderly and frail who cannot cope and there are the families with working mothers who do not have the energy or time to prepare properly for Yom Tov. For many, this is the only or primary vacation. Affluence is obviously a factor, if only because it is costly to go to a hotel and there are religious Jews who can afford the cost. Affluence also has meant larger homes and this means more space to clean and supervise and this factor also contributes to the exodus.

But for all of the good reasons why so many go away, this is a stunning phenomenon that departs by nearly 180 degrees from what had been standard practice among Orthodox Jews. In my youth and well into adulthood, there was the simple precept that during Pesach “mir mishich nisht,” which as a practical matter meant that people ate in their own homes and in no one else’s, except perhaps for the last day of the holiday. This certainly was the rule in pre-churban Europe.

Even if we acknowledge that there are those who need to or should go away, what has happened is unsettling. In the aggregate, the Pesach-in-hotel phenomenon costs in the tens of millions of dollars, perhaps above $100 million. There are people who go away and who are generous in giving tzedakah. It remains, however, that our charity has not kept pace with our self-indulgence. I know more than a few people who give next to nothing in tzedakah and yet who splurge on the Pesach trip.

As others have noted, there are children who have never seen how a house is prepared for Pesach or how to prepare for a seder. Not all, but most, experience a quickie seder, at least in the v’higadta l’vincha portion ["and you shall tell it to your children"], with the meal constituting by far the major event. It is nice, in a way, that some families stay home for the first two days and then leave for a hotel.

Some time ago, we reported the about-face of one of the most vocal proponents of atheism in modern times. British philosopher Anthony Flew announced that he had grave misgivings about his stance of many decades; looking at the evidence led him to believe that only a Supreme Deity could explain the origins of life.

There were denials, and denials of the denials.

The matter appears to have been settled. Flew indeed has found G-d, and he was indeed influenced by Orthodox scientist Gerald Schroeder. The details, for those who need them, can be found in a recent treatment in Christianity Today.

The conversion of the aged skeptic has been met with… skepticism. No less of a great theological light than Jay Leno pronounced the verdict of many. “Of course he believes in G-d now. He’s 81 years old.”

Are you tiring of pinochle with the boys every Wednesday? Is bird watching just not giving you the oomph you seek in a pastime? Perhaps the following diversion will provide just the the sort of fun, intellectual challenge that’s needed to reinvigorate your leisure time.

Here’s how it works: Open the newspaper of your choice and peruse two articles. Try to discern any thematic continuities that may exist between them. Next, read a third piece and attempt to make a substantive connection between it and the second article. If serendipity smiles and you achieve a trifecta, move on to yet a fourth column and who knows . . . ?

In order to demonstrate precisely how this article-kiting exercise works in practice, we’ve selected, at random of course, this past week’s edition of The Forward. A piece on the papal funeral catches the eye. Several prominent American Orthodox rabbis, it seems, “are warning Jews not to watch the funeral on television . . . [noting] that . . . Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik had warned that Jews should not watch” President Kennedy’s funeral.

(An aside: Do Orthodox rabbis ever do anything other than go around ominously “warning” people to not do one thing or another?

While the Catholic Church may have undertaken to change its attitude towards the Jewish People more than a generation ago, I think it is taking somewhat longer for Jews to change their attitude towards the church — and I think the same could be said regarding Christian America overall. Today, I would have to side with Gedalia that American Christian conservatives, Catholic and Protestant, have proven themselves friendly towards Israel and the Jewish People to an unprecedented degree. Pope John Paul II helped contribute to this shift. George W. Bush is both more devout and far more friendly to Israel than his father. Yet many Jews are so uncomfortable with religious Christians that they needlessly — and even irrationally — minimize or dismiss the positive acts and attitudes that we see around us.

I use the word “irrationally” with care. I do not think it rational to expect or demand of someone that they renounce their previous heroes in pursuit of friendship with Jewry. Reading the comments to recent entries, such as Rabbi Adlerstein’s discussion of the Pope, it is obvious that not everyone shares my view.

John Paul II demonstrated a great friendship towards the Jewish People. He prayed at the Kosel. He visited Yad VaShem, the Holocaust Memorial in Jerusalem. He apologized for the historic animosity of the Catholic Church towards Jews. He reaffirmed the transformation of Catholic attitudes found in Nostra Aetate, and declared that the Jews are “the people of God of the Old Covenant never revoked by God.”

Two expressions of a single idea:

1. Post-siyum a picture taken outside the Meadowlands (in New Jersey) showing ‘Racetrack’ and ‘Siyum HaShas’ directional traffic signs side-by-side was widely circulated and re-printed. The caption attached to this picture was ‘anu rotzim v’hem rotzim’, a quote from the siyum text itself meaning, basically, ‘They run to do what They feel is important (the Racetrack) and We run to do what We feel is important (Torah study).’

Something about this caption bothered me, but remained inchoate. I thought maybe it was the fact that the siyum’s venue in the various arenas, using the same facilities and infrastructure as are generally used for decidedly non-Jewish events, was much more of a statement than just the traffic sign; and that somehow using this caption diminished the overall distinction. Then I thought it was the fact that it was so gleefully sent around, raising my fear that We would use the siyum as a whip to denigrate Them. (See Marvin Schick’s April 4th post about how We sometimes talk about Them; I cannot agree more with his sentiments).

Finally we had our neighbors over for Layl Shabbos (Friday Night Dinner) and Mrs. Neighbor saw the picture, for the first time, and exclaimed, “That’s not the right caption! The right caption for that picture should be ‘malchus shel chesed’ (a government of kindness). Bingo. What a Country. My feelings exactly. Can anyone imagine that in Europe 60 years ago or more there would have been hundreds of uniformed police helping us, assisting us, directing traffic, to attend an event of this sort? G-d Bless America. Philo-semitic. It’s been good for the Jews. (No need to comment on the ways in which the freedoms offered in this country have also proven to be most challenging to Jews; that’s very true but not at all the point.)

The last days of the Pope contrasted with the circus surrounding the tragic end of Terri Schiavo. The Pope, who had made so many more meaningful, dramatic gestures in his lifetime, made an important one in his death as well. It was hard to miss both the dignity and the love of life inherent in his determination to bear the pain of infirmity, and in the extent of medical attention lovingly offered him.

So far, many of us are on more or less the same page as the Vatican leadership. We part company sharply in the treatment of the Pope after death.

It is not legitimate, except in matters of compelling moral and ethical argument, to pass judgment on other cultures. Some things are not right or wrong, just different. I would have attributed the pomp and ceremony with which the Vatican is treating the remains of the Pope to just that – cultural difference. We Jews do things so completely differently. Perhaps we just don’t get it. (Few of us would argue for the wholesale burning of a great leader’s personal effects, yet our Gemara does not take the position that this practice of the non-Jews of its day was ludicrous.)

The more I saw, the more uncomfortable I got, however. Moreover, I overheard non-Jews, Catholics, making the same comments! My humble housekeeper expressed her displeasure. So is it just cultural, or does the sharp divide in the way we treat human remains (despite the commonly held beliefs in both the afterlife and the value of the body as a tool in performing righteous acts) tell us something fundamental about differences in the way we view life and death?

I write this postscript on the Terri Schiavo case despite the fact that with her demise, the media frenzy has subsided, the news cycle has turned and the nation’s attention has turned with it to other matters, such as the celebrity trial du jour and the newest film releases. On this site, at least, perhaps we can still get in a reflection or two on matters of life and death that are now, for many Americans, ancient history . . .

In my last post (or is it “posting” — where are the Lexicographic Irregulars when you need ‘em?), I noted the inherent irony of applying the “death with dignity” platitude to the supposedly meaningless life of Terri Schiavo.

Her tragic predicament engendered an unprecented level of discussion and introspection about life’s most important issues and an enormous outpouring of compassion (since even those imputing ulterior motives to the politicians and ideologues involved would presumably concede the good will of the millions of ordinary folk on both sides of the issue who, while divided in their worldviews, were united in their concern for the best interests of Ms. Schiavo and in promoting life as they respectively define it). This being so, using a purely objective standard of meaningfulness would require the conclusion that Terri’s life, at least in its last stages, was exceedingly meaningful.

Now that the saga has drawn to its tragic close, I note yet another great irony, this one relating to the desire of plug-pulling proponents that Terri be accorded what they termed “death with dignity.” Now, one man’s dignified death is another’s premeditated passive murder (evocative of the Chazon Ish’s famed statement: “What secularists call ‘love,’ we call kareis“), and thus it is infinitely malleable phrases like this one, not Terri Schiavo’s life, that are truly devoid of any real meaning.

Except for one point, I will not respond to comments on my previous posting “Have We Become Right-Wingers?” The exception is the attitude of Orthodox Jews to persons who are not Jewish. This is an issue that I feel strongly about, as the following note indicates. I have published it twice before, initially in the RJJ Newsletter and then in the Journal of Halacha and Contemporary Society that is published by the Rabbi Jacob Joseph School. While I received many comments — including from persons within the yeshiva world — no one indicated disagreement with the position that I took. Here is the note:

A noted Harvard University professor who is a committed Jew recently told of a student from an Orthodox home and strong day school background who had abandoned religious life because his experience at Harvard showed him the falsehood of what he had been taught about Gentiles.

Likely, there’s more — perhaps much more — to this young man’s story and journey. Doubtlessly, other factors were at work. Yet, what strikes as too close to home is the reference to derogatory remarks about non-Jews, the sort of gratuitous and nasty fare that is all too common in our religious life and our schools. Such remarks have become part of our vernacular. I have heard far too much inappropriate talk, specifically including by people who declaim readily about shmiras halashon, of the need to be careful in speech.

It is lamentable that we have to stress the obvious principle that no individual or group is elevated by putting down other people. Groups and individuals are elevated by what they do, not by the behavior of others. For Jews, the concept of chosenness arises only out of our living sanctified lives in accordance with the Torah’s commandments. When we speak pejoratively of Gentiles, we may in a sense diminish them, but for sure in the process we are diminishing ourselves.

It has only been a few hours since I published an appreciation of the Pope in Jewish World Review, and the feedback has already begun, even though it was posted in the middle of the night, East Coast time. Given the popularity of JWR (in my mind, one of the most potent forces of kiddush Hashem (sanctifying G-d’s Name), period; read by huge numbers of non-Orthodox Jews and non-Jews), this was not terribly surprising.

I will anticipate some raised eyebrows from within the Jewish community. Is what happens within the Church any of our business? Does there have to be a Jewish response to the passing of the Pope?

Yes, I say, and for two reasons.

First of all, it is the right thing to do, the correct thing. Our tradition supports it, both because unlike many other faiths, we do not claim a monopoly on Heaven. We fully believe that the righteous of the nations of the world have a place in the World to Come. The Be�er HaGolah (Yoreh Deah 367:1) (clearly commenting about non-Jews who were his contemporaries, which means practicing Christians) speaks approvingly about showing last respects to non-Jews who were good people, who were included among these chasidei umos ha-olam. We also believe that hakaras hatov � acknowledging the good that anyone has shown us � is one of the pillars of Jewish life. Pope John Paul, it would seem to me, represented the confluence of both of these elements, and so we should show appreciation and gratitude.