[view:receive_dignity]


Occassionally I get gas near my kids' school after I drop them off. It's an old gas station that that has not been updated with the latest and greatest. It's one of the only places I know of that still has those vapor-recovery units (an anti-smog device that seemed to fail in its environmental efforts while succeeding in splashing gasoline on customers).

I just read a really fun blog post on See What's Out There called This is Michael Hoffman which was followed up recently with, I am Still Michael Hoffman. Unlike me, Michael Hoffman has quite a common name. Not only does he share his name with a movie producer, or two, but there is also an anti-semite in the mix whose web site used to show up first, and now shows up second on Google searches of "Michael Hoffman."

Golden Eagle in Plummer's Hollow: pic by Dave Bonta
Dave Bonta, blogger/poet/naturalist at Via Negativa and Plummer's Hollo, documents the capture of a young golden eagle. His land is right on the path of a regular golden migration route. Scientists were on call, ready for the capture in order to put a transmitter on one of the birds for purposes of study.

With awe, reverence, and excitement Dave masterfully documented the happenings in words and photos.

She spent four or five minutes trying to straighten her ruffled feathers and get used to the feeling of the harness against her skin and the strange new backpack. Finally, she launched herself into the air, circled low over our heads once, twice, then headed off to the south along the ridge. We were awed and humbled by the experience, and still have a bit of a hard time believing that our far-from-wild ridge twice a year becomes a highway for these archetypal denizens of the northern wilderness.

Happy 3rd night of Chanukkah.

Mt. Sinai by Shar's Photos, taken on September 20, 2007
[An additional paragraph was added on 10/3/07, just after the 6th paragraph.]

At the end of my last post I asked the question,

How can a community maintain reverence for Jewish traditions and Jewish law while seeming to dispute the authority that stands at the core of those laws and traditions?

Jewish tradition, it would seem, makes a claim, that the "Oral Law," which forms the basis of Jewish Law, was authored by God and received by Moses at Sinai. (See the entry for Oral Law in the Jewish Encyclopedia from 1906 for an explanation of the Oral Law in line with an Orthodox approach.)

The meaning of a claim for divine authorship of a sacred text depends upon the cultural context from which it emerges. That claim cannot be imported into another cultural context without first attempting to translate it. When the rabbis say "The Written and Oral Torahs were authored by God and delivered by Moses" it means something different in our cultural context than it did in theirs.

The claim that sacred texts were written by human beings, not God, is most commonly thought of as serving a secular agenda.

For me, acknowledging the human hand that touches sacred texts strengthens my religious tendencies and feelings.

When I imagine the Torah as written by God, I become angry at the Torah and at God. The God-character in the Torah is male, is angry, and vengeful. How limiting of what is supposed to be infinite. How flawed of what is supposed to be perfect. How particular of what is supposed to be universal.

Penguin Bloggers: I imagine each penguin in the photo being an author of one of my favorite blogs

When you blog, you make yourself vulnerable—almost begging for validation. That validation can come through comments from readers, page views, and ideally a combination of both.

I really enjoy commenting on blogs that I like. It feels satisfying to provide the validation that someone has implicitly asked for by writing a blog post.

Lately I've noticed that some of my comments are kind of on the long side. Validation, great, but am I being rude, taking up a whole couch in my host's living room?

I think what I'm supposed to do is make shorter comments and then take the leftover ideas I have and write a post on my own blog. That post would include a linked reference to the blog that inspired my post.

How come nobody ever taught me that in blogging school? Do I have to learn everything on my own? Is there a guide to blogging etiquette anywhere?

I don't think that I've made myself unwelcome at any of the blogs that I've been commenting on lately. I think more to the point is that I have a lot to say and I've been frustrated by my inability to write and post pics on my own blog.

But hey, it's a new year, no better time to start than now. And it's been three days since I've eaten any junk food. It's going to be a great year!

Making my point: "I've got something to say!"

[Images in this post are by me, from my trip to the Galapagos in late June of this year. See more Galapagos pics.]

Galapagos Landscape, originally uploaded by Shai G.

Of all the pics I took in the Galapagos when I was there in late June, early July, this might seem an odd choice for the first to post to my blog. Amid the close-ups of marine and land iguanas, turtles, blue-footed boobies, albatross and more, here is a pic with no wildlife present. Nor are there seemingly just-stopped lava flows or water-filled craters or cactus blooming out of a pavement of lava.

What grabbed my attention in this pic is the background where the leafless palo-santo trees co-mingle with actual greenery: plants that have the chutzpah to show green leaves in the midst of the dry season.

I also like how the telephoto setting on the lens brings all the elements closer together. The foreground where I'm standing, the water, the cliffs and the trees in the back all feel intimate, emphasizing the truth of the interconnectedness of things.

I think I might be trying to protect the wildlife by not exposing it, at least for the moment. For me to look at this dry landscape and know that the water and its edges support such a diverse and rich wildlife population is more evocative than "catching" a bird in my lens, who posed as if she were sitting at Sears.

Soccer Balls on Ice, originally uploaded by EveryLittleThing.

These balls are just waiting to be liberated. With 50 degree (F) weather on the way, their moment will come soon!

 

It certainly wasn't staged. Read the post to find out.

 

This is the view from the "snake" trail up to Masada. You can see the main road north/south road that traverses the Jordan valley on the Israeli side all the way from Eilat to Beit Shan. The photo was taken on my recent trip to Israel on 12/25/06.

Our kids had no trouble with the steep hike. What a pleasure to do it in Winter. The photo was taken at about 2:45 P.M.

What is the meaning of Masada?

For some reason as a teenager, I had taken away from my Masada visit the idea that the cisterns/architecture and general ingenuity were of Jewish origin. But no, that was all of Roman origin. The Jewish inhabitants were just looking for a good place to hide and defend themselves.

The Jewsh story of Masada is about a certain kind of bravery, tenacity, and the kind of courage it takes to commit suicide in advance of your enemy to prevent enslavement/humiliation and/or death at the hand of your enemy.

When we were on top we heard some American kids asking their parents, "So why did they want to die?" Answer from parents: "They didn't want to die. They just wanted to be left alone to live a Jewish life in freedom." I can't re-tell this same version to my own kids. I can't ignore the fact that the Zealots were embattled with the Jewish community as well and were reported to have killed other Jews. I can't jump on board convenient interpretations of history.

Masada is in an amazing setting. It's amazing that they were able to support 1000 souls there and provide for people's food and water. But I also can't help but wonder whether there were not more people than the two woman and five children who hid in the cistern who also didn't want to commit suicide.

Looking out into the desert, seeing the complex patterns cut into the desert landscapes -- wondering about the forces (likely water?) which carved out those patterns -- being with my family, hiking, imagining -- these are the parts of our Masada trip that nourished me.

Once I felt compelled to try to learn a story from Masada that was inspiring. Now I don't feel so compelled. It is another archaeological excavation -- in an amazing location, with a dramatic story. Without the demand that Masada carry a contemporary message, I'm engaged. But if it has to teach me something -- then I'd rather run.

[Read my article about another aspect of my trip which also has to do with the construction of meaning and shifting narratives.]