A Gentile’s Jewishness
Who is a Jew is a basic question about Jewish identity and considerations of Jewish self-identification. Gentile is a term that usually means 'someone who is not a Jew'. Other groups that claim Israelite heritage sometimes use the term to describe outsiders.
A recent survey by the ‘Pew Research Centre’, a nonpartisan American fact tank based in Washington, D.C. that informs the public about the issues, attitudes and trends shaping the world, found that a growing number of Jews identify as nonreligious and are marrying non-Jews. Although according to the Halacha a person is a Jew if he was born to a Jewish mother or converted to Judaism in accordance with the prescribed procedures.
Lawrence Kaplan, a professor of Jewish studies at McGill University, wrote in the 'Jewish Review of Books', in spring 2018:
From the very moment of its appearance until today Moses and Monotheism has been controversial. Yet amid all the discussion and debate, criticism and defense, historical analysis and, yes, psychoanalysis—Freud had, after all, always identified personally with Moses—one point of Moses and Monotheism that has stood firm and unchanging is its “bare plot,” Freud’s story. But is this story as stable as is generally believed?
Scholars have all been struck by the work’s unusual and ungainly structure: Prefaces that cancel each other out, hesitations, apologies, the imbalance of its parts, repetitions, stops, and starts. And yet they have all tacitly assumed that throughout the winding, discursive, and digressive course of the three essays that comprise the work—“Moses an Egyptian”; “. . . If Moses Was an Egyptian”; and “Moses, His People and Monotheistic Religion” (this last essay consisting of two parts)—the story itself, though repeated and repeated again, remains the same. But does it?
As Talmud Yerushalmi’s account makes clear, Freud in 'Moses and Monotheism' sets forth three exceptionally controversial historical claims: 1) Moses was an Egyptian; 2) The Israelites murdered him; and 3) There were actually two Moseses, an Egyptian Moses and a Midianite Moses. And yet, although Freud never explicitly repudiates any of these claims, a close reading of his text shows that he silently drops all of them. Moses was an Egyptian: gone. The Israelites murdered Moses: gone. There were two Moseses: gone.
Freud wrote 'Moses and Monotheism' near the end of his life, after the Nazi rise to power, and as he himself began to reread the Bible his father had inscribed to him and rethink the nature of the Jewish psyche, is crucial for understanding Freud’s intellectual biography. And any analysis of his famous claims must both subject them to historical criticism and put them in the context of postbiblical discussions of Moses that go back to late antiquity.
Jan Assmann, a German Egyptologist, Richard Bernstein, a moral and political philosopher, and others have done so, and yet they, and innumerable others, have presumed that we know the story that Freud settled on. But do we?
Freud’s thesis of the two Moseses, moving to the murder of Moses, and finishing with Moses the Egyptian. First the two Moseses: Freud proposes that there was first an Egyptian Moses and later a Midianite Moses, in the second essay of Moses and Monotheism. However, in his historical résumé at the beginning of the third essay, he writes that after the Jews who had left Egypt had murdered Moses, they wandered in the desert, “and . . . in a well-watered locality named Kadesh, under the influence of the Arab Midianites, they took on a new religion, the worship of the Volcano God.” Freud speaks here, as he did in the second essay, of the “Arab Midianites,” but of their Midianite Moses, who in the second essay played such a key role, he has nothing to say. This second Moses, Jethro’s non-Egyptian son-in-law, has simply disappeared from the story, never to be mentioned again. How are we to account for this?
In truth, Freud doesn’t need the second Moses. As we just saw, it suffices for him to assert that after the Jews had murdered the Egyptian Moses and rejected his religion, they at some later point, under the influence of Arab Midianites, adopted a new, lower, more primitive form of religion, consisting of the worship of the Volcano God.
Dror Ben Ami, author of the book "The Misunderstanding", writes in The Jerusalem Post on December 31, 2015.
Was Moses Jewish? Well, according to the Orthodox Rabbinout in Israel, the answer is: “Definitely not”.
This should come as no real surprise because, according to the exact same Rabbinout, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and his 12 sons were not Jewish either.
“But wait”, you say, “don't the Rabbis teach that Moses was the first Jew?” (i.e. no one is arguing that the Rabbis teach that Abraham, Isaac and Jacob were not Jews). Well, the Rabbis may “teach” that Moses was the first Jew, but: Do they really believe it? Sadly, the incontrovertible truth is: “no”.
Let's just take the “Haggadah” for example, shall we? The written Torah states that each year we must teach the story of Passover to our children. In almost every Haggadah now used by Jewish communities around the world, regardless of their denomination, Moses is only mentioned once and that is just a brief reference in the middle of a prayer.
Let's say that God commanded his people to tell the story of Apple Computer once a year. If you were commanded to tell the story of Apple Computer, would you mention Steve Jobs only once? And then, only as a mere reference in some minor episode of the story?
On their website, the Chabad Movement claims that the Rabbis don't mention Moses in the Haggadah because Moses was some sort of “superhuman” being who it is impossible to emulate. Hence it is better to supply the children with more “down to earth” type role models like Rabbi Akiva or the Rambam; even though they had absolutely nothing to do with the story of Passover.
By the way, the Rabbis also decided that it was better not to mention the original 70 teachers of the Oral Law who sided with the 10 dis-honest spies against Moses and were responsible for that entire generation of “Jews” to perish while wandering around in the desert for forty years (Perhaps because it reminded them of an entire generation of Polish orthodox Jews who died in the death camps because they lined up against Herzl, Jabotinsky and the other “Zionists” and listened to their teachers of the Oral Law instead (Isn't it strange that they ALL were arguing about whether or not to come live in the Promised Land? Well, some things never change.....)
But, then again, in all fairness: Who would want to come to a land promised to a bunch of Gentiles???!!!
But really, Moses was a “superman”? Moses the stutterer who did not want to return to Egypt? Moses who was in constant fear that the people wanted to stone him? Moses who was not allowed to enter the Promised Man because he acceded to the demands of the people and provided them with water? Moses who is described by God as being a very humble man, this is a: "superman”?
Regardless, let's just look at any convert to Judaism. According to the Rabbis, a convert must be familiar with the traditions of the Jewish people. Moses, Abraham, Isaac, etc., etc... were not.
A convert must know a little bit about the Talmud and the Oral Law. Moses, Abraham, Isaac, etc., etc... did not. But, most important of all, as any Ethiopian will tell you, a convert must accept Rabbinical authority.
Since the first teachers of the Oral Law were the mere assistants of Moses, then he hardly could have been expected to accept their authority. In fact, if any decision was deemed too difficult for them, then they were to come to Moses and he would make the final ruling. But, even more than this, the first teachers of the Oral Law, according to Moses, were not even the final authorities after Moses would die. The Priests were the final authority, not the teachers of the Oral Law (i.e. the judges).
So, to sum up: Moses is not aware of modern traditions, Moses did not study even a little bit of the Talmud, Moses did not acknowledge or accept Rabbinical authority. All that together with his two Gentile wives. Well, it's clear: Moses was NOT a Jew...
Rabbi Emily Korzenik Scarsdale, N.Y., wrote to 'The New York Times' on October 20th 1992.
In "Debating Intermarriage, and Jewish Survival" (front page, Oct. 18), you state that "in the Bible Jews are repeatedly warned that intermarriage endangers the survival of a distinct Jewish people." Indeed, Nehemiah and Ezra speak out forcefully, even harshly against intermarriage. But for a much longer period of Biblical history intermarriage was commonplace and accepted.
Moses married a Midianite and had a mutually respectful relationship with his father-in-law, Jethro. King David seems no less a Jew for having Ruth, the Moabite, as a forebear. Joseph and Judah had non-Jewish wives.
You state: "Once Jews intermarry their children seldom grow up Jewish," then give 28 percent as the number who do grow up Jewish. Is 28 percent seldom? The 31 percent said to be "reared with no religion" could be ours if we reached out with love instead of initial rejection.
ABC News, associate producer, Jenna Millman and editor, Ralph Avellino wrote on December 27th 2012.
Moses had a quiet life as a shepherd before becoming a revolutionary leader. In the Bible, he is called Moses. In the Koran, he is Prophet Musa.
Religious scholars have long questioned whether of the story of a Prophet leading God's chosen people in a great Exodus out of Egypt and the freedom it brought them afterwards was real, but the similarities between a Pharaoh's ancient Hymn and of David might hold the link to his existence.
Christian scripture says Moses was content to grow old with his family in the vast deserted wilderness of Midian, and 40 years passed until the Bible says God spoke to him through the burning bush and told him to lead his people, the Israelites, out of Egypt. According to tradition, that miraculous bush can still be seen today enclosed within the ancient walls of St. Catherine's Monastery, located not far from Moses' hometown.
But there was another figure in the ancient world who gave up everything to answer the call from what he believed was the one and only true God.
Archaeologists discovered the remains of the ancient city of Amarna in the 1800s. Egyptologist Rawya Ismail, who has been studying the ruins for years, believes, as other archaeologists do, that Pharaoh Akhenaten built the city as a tribute to Aten, the Sun.
She said it was a bold and unusual step for the Pharaoh to leave the luxurious trappings of palace life in Luxor for the inhospitable landscape of Amarna, but it might have been his only choice as the Priests from the existing religious establishment gained power.
"The very powerful Amun-Ra Priests that he couldn't stand against gained control of the whole country," Ismail said. "The idea was to find a place that had never been used by any other Gods -- to be virgin is what he called it -- so he chose this place."
All over the walls inside the city's beautiful tombs are examples of Akhanaten's radical message of monotheism. There is the Hymn to the Aten, which translates, in part, to:
"The earth comes into being by your hand, as you made it. When you dawn, they live. When you set, they die. You yourself are lifetime, one lives by you."
Some attribute the writing of the Hymn to Akhanaten himself, but it bears a striking resemblance to a passage that can be found in (Psalm 104) of the Hebrew Bible:
"If you compare the Hymns from A to Z, you'll find mirror images to it in many of the Holy Books," Ismail said. "And if you compare certain parts of it, you'll find it almost exactly -- a typical translation for some of the Psalms of David."
Psalm 104, written a few hundred years later, references a Lord that ruled over Israel and a passage compares him to the Sun.
"You hide your face, they are troubled," part of it reads. "You take away your breath, they die, And return to dust. You send forth your breath, they are created, and you renew the face of the earth."
Like the Psalm, the Hymn to Aten extols the virtues of the one true God.
"A lot of people think that the Hymn to Aten was the source of the psalms of David," Ismail said. "Putting Egypt on the trade route, a lot of people traveled from Egypt and came back to Egypt, it wasn't like a country living in isolation."
Ismail believes it is possible that the message from the heretic pharaoh has some connection to the story of Moses and the Exodus, as outlined in the Hebrew Bible.
"That helps us reference Moses' existence as it was the same message that he was calling for, which may have been before Akhehaten had got infected with it," she said.
The Bible says that after Moses accepted his dangerous mission to get the Israelites out of Egypt, he confronted the Pharaoh. The Pharaoh refused to let his people go until God unleashed a series of unnatural disasters known as the 10 plagues. Jews commemorate this event and the Exodus on Passover.
"The evening before the 10th plague, Moses instructed the Jews to sacrifice a lamb and to paint its blood on their doors so that the angel of death would know who was Jewish and who wasn't. This is where the term 'Passover' comes from," said Jonathan Safran Foer, the author of "New American Haggadah."
The Bible says the Angel of Death swept through Egypt, including the palace. When the Pharaoh's son died, he sent for Moses and told him to take his people and go. But then, the Pharaoh realized he was losing a huge work force, so he called up his army and chased the Israelites to the Red Sea. As the story goes, Moses called upon the power of God to part the Red Sea and the Israelites walked into the Sinai desert to freedom.
Religious historians estimate the Israelite population in Egypt at the time was around two or three million people, but the Biblical Exodus route into the Sinai Desert has left no trace other than what the Bible tells us.
"There is virtually no evidence, as the Torah says, that 600,000 Jewish males, with their wives and children and elders, left Egypt in the Exodus," said Rabbi Burt Visotzky, a professor of Talmud and Rabbinics at the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York. "Those are big numbers. You'd think someone would notice."
In the Hebrew Bible, the body of water is called Yom Suf, which translates to Sea of Reeds, leading some scholars to suggest that the story is talking about a swamp instead of a huge body of water.
"When it comes to Moses, again, you have a really larger-than-life portrait," said William Dever, a professor of archaeology from Lycoming College. "I doubt that the miracles attributed to him ever took place. I don't think he led three million Israelites out of Egypt in an exodus across the Sinai. I don't think he was the founder of Israelite religion, but I think there was a Moses. I argue, and I think some other archaeologists will, too, there was a small exodus group -- not millions of people, but perhaps a few thousand -- who did escape from slavery in Egypt."
When a Jewish child turns 13 years old and prepares for his or her bar or bat mitzvah, they study the story of the Exodus and sing the ancient song of freedom. In the Jewish tradition, it is the same song that was supposedly sung by Moses' people when they made it out of Egypt, making the story of Exodus timeless and never-ending.
"What we say at the end of Seder is 'next year in Jerusalem,' but it's kind of funny to say that now because we could go to Israel," Foer said. "Jerusalem is more than a place. Jerusalem is an idea. Jerusalem is an ideal place where there are no slaves, where we don't have to continue on this perpetual march towards freedom because everybody has freedom."
Seymour Epstein, Professor Emeritus of Psychology at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst, writes in “The Esther Scroll: The Author's Tale”.
When someone retells a story, especially a story of great importance, it is never told the same way, despite the teller’s protestations to the contrary. It changes in ways of which the teller may be unaware. This was, of course, a lesson taught by the master, Freud himself, but that does not mean that he himself was exempt from it.
Strikingly, when Jews sit down to retell the story of the Exodus on Passover night, the account, as found in the Haggadah, differs radically from that in the Bible. While the biblical account focuses on Moses’s critical role in liberating his people, the account in the Haggadah famously, almost shockingly, makes no mention of Moses at all; the focus is exclusively on God. But this change in the retelling, far from being inadvertent or unconscious, was deliberate. It was as if the Rabbis wished to make sure that Moses’s people would always be able “to distinguish the image of the man Moses from that of his God.” For the Rabbis, unlike Freud, were men of faith…
Food for thought!
Food for thought indeed!