Our family decided to try learning Tanach together, following the schedule of the site http://929.org.il, which started the cycle with Bereishit 1 yesterday. We read through the chapter pretty quickly to keep their interest, but asked questions as we went. As in the past, I found that our children waste no time in asking questions that they don’t even realize get to the heart of some pretty complicated issues.
When we read about the sixth day, my eight-year-old daughter asked, when were the dinosaurs created? I said, millions of years ago. She then asked, were they created before Hashem created the world? Wow…
I explained that the Torah is not meant to be what we would now call a scientifically or historically accurate reporting of what happened, but rather it is here to teach us a message. In this case, it is telling us that man rules over animal.
But then my ten-year-old (who has been the student in most of this blog), one-upped me and said, no, the Torah is telling us how they thought the world was created. And really, she is right. The authors did not know about dinosaurs but decide to teach us a different moral lesson that didn’t involve them; they did not know about dinosaurs, and recorded a tradition of how the world was created, namely in six days by divine utterance.
Maybe both approaches are valid, though. The authors also did not mean to record science or history, but rather to explain the world in the way they understood it, which has served as a message for us for all these thousands of years.
My daughter is often focused on whether the stories in the Torah actually happened, and over the years I’ve given different explanations. Yes, maybe, probably not, we think so, yes but not in these exact words, etc. I am often nervous about how directly to share ideas of scholarship that seem to remove the divine element from the text. And sometimes a simple question can make me question my approach.
I read a standard verse (not sure which one) involving Moshe saying something to God. My daughter asked, “How did they know?” “How did who know?” I asked. She said, “The authors.” Ooh. OK, two easy answers came to mind first. Moshe wrote it, or God wrote it. But I explained that just like anyone relating a story, they may have heard the story from previous generations, but in relating it, they may provide direct quotes that are not necessarily exactly what was said, but help tell the story.
I did feel bad about so explicitly giving an explanation that deviated from what seemed to be the simplest answer – Hashem wrote the Torah and He knows everything. I discussed this with R’ David Steinberg of Project TABS, who had a really helpful insight. He said, absent the narrative we grew up with where God dictated the Torah word for word to Moshe, is that really the simplest explanation? It seems a lot simpler to say that people wrote stories, as people have done for millennia. But, I asked, does that mean I’m telling my daughter that the stories aren’t true? He said, how many stories are “true?” And I think that’s exactly the point. I am getting caught up in the same question my daughter is – is the text related historical fact? And, it’s not. These are stories. Not just any stories – they are the foundational myths of our people, passed down from generation to generation, and preserved and revered because they are so meaningful to us. But don’t look to the text for direct quotes of what Moshe said to God.
A lot of what I’ve chronicled on this blog has dealt with how to teach the Torah, which clearly was not written for children, to a child. Issues such as sex, murder, rape, death, etc. all have to be dealt with in their own ways. So far, I’ve managed to cover everything. Some things had to be tweaked, like replacing sex with marriage. That doesn’t always work so well, but it was good enough. I’ve never had to skip over anything because I couldn’t figure out a way to teach it to my daughter.
We had just gotten up to parashat Tazria. My wife and I used to teach chatanim and kallot, and we had always started with the sections for Vayikra 15 and 12 to introduce the topic of hilchot niddah, so we are very familiar with the texts. My daughter is now 10, and I told my wife that I was about to explain periods to our daughter since we’d be learning about menstrual bleeding. My wife wasn’t happy with that. I have to agree – this is probably something she should do, and I’m not sure combining this sensitive topic with hilchot niddah, zava, and yoledet is the best approach. So, we decided to skip those two parshiot. Dodging that bullet made Aaron’s two sons being burned to death seem like a breeze!
My daughter asked why we were skipping those, and I told her that Mommy wants to learn those parshiot with her. So, we still have to figure out when she’ll have “the talk” with her, and hopefully come back to these parshiot another time.
It took a really long time, but we finally finished Shemot on Simchat Torah. It took so long for a few reasons:
- The second half of the book is “boring”
- We started building a mishkan to make it interesting, but that took a lot of time
- My daughter was learning to read, and wanted to read herself, which is great but took a lot longer
- My daughter in general lost interest
Although we started learning when she was five, we’re now running behind on our goal to finish before her bat mitzvah. So, we’ll see what happens. But I’m going to need ot push to do it more often and for more time in order to finish.
As in past years, I baked matza with my daughters on erev pesach. Someone else at our Seder also baked his own matza, except he made hard matza, and we made our usual soft matza. I want filled with pride when my daughter picked up one of his matzot and asked, why is this matza so hard?
Some of our matza:
Fast forward a couple of weeks, and I experimented with making chapati. This is an Indian bread made without yeast, just flour and water plus a little salt and oil. It is then quickly fried in a pan, about 30 seconds on each side. If it weren’t for our practice of avoiding matza ashira, I think this would qualify as matza.
Here were my chapatis:
An interesting discussion ensued when my daughters asked if this what matza, and I explained the differences and similarities between this and our usual matza. The kids were really excited and asked a lot of questions about what exactly qualifies as matza.
Another successful lesson in experiential Judaism!
Our learning has gone very slowly lately, but I’m trying to get my daughter back into it. We recently started Ki Tisa, and had an interesting discussion this morning.
We read 31:14, “מחלליה מות יומת”, stating that a Sabbath violator will die. My daughter immediately said, “that’s not true.” Lots of people don’t keep shabbat. I wasn’t sure how to answer that. I didn’t want to just say that she is right and we don’t believe that people who violate shabbat will die, even though that’s what the Torah says. I thought for a bit about whether this verse is a commandment to beit din, a prediction, a threat, etc. The second part of the verse refers to karet, stating that someone who violates shabbat will be cut off from their people.
I ended up separating the two concepts. I told her that when there was a Jewish court, they could have killed someone for violating the shabbat, though that was very unusual. But now, if someone breaks shabbat, they are separated from their people in a practical way. I talked about how we see everyone in shul, at meals, and at the park on shabbat, but someone who doesn’t keep shabbat might be out shopping or at work, and thus they aren’t part of the shabbat community. This way, the verse goes from being a Draconian threat or an empty prediction, to a natural consequence that I hope will motivate shabbat observance in a positive way.
Over the last few months, my daughter has been less interested in learning together, usually preferring to spend our time on other things. So, when we got up to Parashat Terumah, I thought for sure we were done. There’s no way she would sit through lists of cubit measurements; plus, what lessons could I really extract from it?
I came up with an idea that so far has worked spectacularly well, which is to try and build a model of the mishkan together as we read the “instructions” in the Torah. I looked online and found a couple of very expensive kits. Aside from the cost, these are likely to include all kinds of interpretations of the text, and I’d rather us connect directly to the text by trying to figure it out. I am completely unskilled at arts and crafts, and made my first trip to A. C. Moore to pick up supplies. My daughter was really exciting about the project. In fact, yesterday when I came home from work, she was jumping up and down asking to learn the parasha! I could never have imagined so much excitement for Parashat Terumah!
Here is our ארון:
We are building it to scale of one amah to one inch, and using whatever materials we could come up with that don’t require tools, so we’re using poster board for walls. The rings were from the jewelry supply area, the poles are lollipop sticks, and the keruvim are basically stick figures made out of wiki sticks. What I like about them is that all we know from the Torah is that the keruvim were facing each other, and spreading their wings towards each other. So, the stick figures are as reasonable as any other depiction. Everything is spray-painted gold. My daughter even picked out a pretty rock to put inside as the “edut.”
I’m hoping her excitement lasts, and look forward to posting more pictures.