It’s April 17th and time for my annual tradition: the blogging equivalent of parading Josep around like an abashed bar mitzvah boy so all his fans and admirers can congratulate him!
And this time, I am armed with recent photographs!
Or screenshots, as it were.
Thank you for being you, and for playing along so nicely with my weird ideas (and tolerating my weirdness in general). I wish you a year of health (!!!) and peace of mind and happiness, and may God bless you with everything your heart desires.
…And when the world gets you down, don’t forget what your doctor said! đ
No, I am not referring to Israel’s 70th birthday–that starts tomorrow night! Though I’m sure Josep is pleased about the proximity. đ
Those of you who have been following the blog for the 3+ years I’ve been writing it may have wondered why I always make such a big deal out of Josep’s birthday.
Well, one reason is obvious: I am his self-appointed Jewish-mother-friend, and as such, it is my obligation and duty to treat him like an exasperated bar mitzvah boy being shuttled around the room to show off to all my friends and relatives. As you have probably noticed, I take this job very seriously.
I’d grab him by the chin and crow “Such a shayne punim1!” but A) he’s not actually my son (I know, shocking, especially considering he’s 5 years older than me) and B) we’re located 2,000 miles apart at most given moments. This photo was taken in November 2013 on the second of four occasions on which we were in the same country at the same time.
Another reason I do this is that Josep has a very sad history of being forgotten on his birthday or on other occasions. A few months after we first met, shortly before Christmas, he told me some miserable stories about this, including one about being the only one among 25+ cousins not to receive any Christmas presents one year. I felt so sorry for that poor teenage Josep lying on the couch in that story that I couldn’t contain myself and had to send him a present forthwith: a copy of Judaism for Everyone by Rabbi Shmuley Boteach. (This was, perhaps, the first symptom of my now-famous compulsion to surprise him with gifts.) And for his birthday that year I made a bunch of my friends and family members email him to wish him a happy birthday, because I never wanted him to feel forgotten on his birthday ever again.
SO YOU SEE, it is a MORAL IMPERATIVE that every last one of you comment on this post to wish him a happy birthday. Those of you receiving the posts via email who haven’t figured out how to comment yet–just scroll down to the bottom of the email until you see the words “Read in browser >>” in blue and click on them (or, click on the title of the post at the top), then scroll down to the bottom until you reach a section that says “Leave a Reply”. (You can also just send your good wishes to me and I’ll pass them on!)
AND AS FOR YOU, my exasperated bar mitzvah boy. (…) Per molts anys! I wish you a year of joy and satisfaction in all areas of life, peace and tranquility, physical and spiritual wealth, good health, and lots and lots of love đ And books. Lots of good books. Only some of which were written to you. đ Hopefully some that were written by you! *hint* *hint* *nudge*
(Or maybe I should save that last wish for St. Jordi’s Day next week. Ah well.)
1. “Shayne punim” is Yiddish for “pretty face”, generally said in a high-pitched voice while pinching the cheeks of an uncomfortable child.âŠ
Just taking a brief break from de-Passover-ifying my kitchen to say: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JOSEP!
Mmm, cake. I could do with some cake right about now.
Unfortunately because your birthday fell on the 7th day of Passover I am very unlikely to be able to recruit many random strangers to wish you a happy birthday, as is my tradition. Especially since Jews everywhere else in the world have another 24 hours of Passover to live through celebrate. But I would not want you to think I have forgotten. đ
I think I’ve been sufficiently mushy about our friendship in recent months, including in our 10-year-friendversary post and my 1-year-book-birthday post. But I was flipping through a book of quotes by Rebbe Nachman of Breslev today, and, well, there was one that jumped out at me from the chapter on friendship…
It says: “The world was created in such a way that the pieces you need to complete yourself can be found with your friends. Be his student, and he will be your student.” (Likutei Moharan 24, 7)
It reminded me of a line you wrote in the foreword to LtJ: “…She has always been the teacher, and I have always been the student.”
Not so, my friend.
I have learned more from you than you can imagine.
Thank you for being you, and I hope you’ve been having a wonderful day! Wishing you a year of good news, joy, satisfaction, and fulfillment.
So… most of you know Josep primarily as the pseudonym at the top of every post and not much else, and for all intents and purposes he is happy with that. I leave out personal details because he’s a fairly private person who doesn’t like to have much of an online presence. When I presented him with the idea of turning the “informative” part of our correspondence into a blog, he wasn’t opposed, but not exactly enthusiastic either. I recently asked, “Aren’t you pleased to be used as a literary device for the sharing of knowledge and understanding between different religions and cultures?! đ ”
Accordingly, I just want to share with you that today is his birthday, and… let’s just say he could really use some good wishes right about now. I would be very grateful if those of you who read and enjoy the blog, including those of you who are shy about commenting, could wish him well in the comments, and if you are so inclined–let him know what this blog means to you… so he can be consoled that the exploitation of our friendship for my dastardly exhibitionist purposes is at least beneficial for some. đ
Bon aniversari, Josep. Thank you for your friendship, and for inspiring me to write this blog.
You once asked me where you could find a Hebrew calendar to help you keep track of the holidays and stuff, since, I quote, “I have you to tell me every single holiday, but… you can’t be writing to me every day of our lives to tell me all the holidays đ And, of course, to have a different calendar makes it hard to keep updated every passing year, because it never falls on the same day…” Little did you know, you would be stuck with me as your personal Jewish calendar forever. Mwahahahahaha!
Ahem.
Well, as I’ve said before, technology has been developing to our advantage. These days, you can have the Hebrew date displayed alongside the Gregorian date on your Google Calender really easily. (You go into Settings–>General and select “Hebrew calender” under “Alternate calendar”.) Unfortunately it does not mention the holidays, so you have to add the Jewish holidays separately. But that’s also pretty easy: you browse to your calendar, and under “Other calendars” click “Browse interesting calendars”, and then “subscribe” next to Jewish Holidays. Tada!
So hold on a second. What is the Hebrew calendar anyhow? What are we counting from? Well… tough question, because theoretically, it’s supposed to be counting from the creation of the world. That is, it’s a calculation using the Bible and the dates and years mentioned in it as a reference. But most modern Orthodox Jews don’t actually think the world–or more accurately, the history of homo sapiens, since it’s theoretically counting from the creation of Adam–is only 5775 years old. We don’t think the creation story is meant to be taken literally. The word “Torah” means “instruction”. The Torah is an instruction manual, not a history book. So I see it is being more symbolic than anything else; meant to make us reflect on the creation, rather than give a scientific calculation of when it happened. (If you’re interested in learning more about how we reconcile science with the Genesis creation story, here’s a fascinating and comprehensive article by Dr. Gerald Schroeder, a scientist and Orthodox Jew who has written extensively on the harmony between science and Judaism.)
The Hebrew calendar has 12 months and is mostly lunar but influenced by the sun as well. What that means is that the months are based on the moon, and each month begins with the new moon, but every few years we add an extra month to realign the calendar with the seasons. We do this because according to the Torah, Passover must take place in the spring. The Muslim calendar, by contrast, is only lunar, so their months and holidays fall during different seasons.
The names of the Hebrew months (Nisan, Iyar, Sivan, Tamuz, Av, Elul, Tishrei, Cheshvan, Kislev, Tevet, Shvat, Adar) are generally understood to have been adapted from the Babylonian calendar. This makes sense, because our calendar was really consolidated during the time of Ezra and Nehemiah, returning from the First Exile in Babylonia. In the Torah, the months are not referred to by names, just “the first month”, “the second month”, and so forth.
Pop quiz! Which month is the first month of the Hebrew calendar?
…
Trick question!
You know that Rosh Hashana is the Jewish new year, which begins with Tishrei, so you’d think that Tishrei is the first month, right? Not in the Torah: the source for the holiday of Rosh Hashana is Leviticus 23:24: “In the seventh month, on the first day of the month, shall be a solemn rest unto you, a memorial proclaimed with the blast of horns, a holy convocation.”
What?
You see, because Jews have a penchant for complicating things, we actually have four different new years. The first of Tishrei, otherwise known as Rosh Hashana or the Jewish New Year, is the new year for years. That means that we count years from that date, so 5774 turned to 5775 on the first of Tishrei.
The first of Nisan is the new year for months. Nisan, not Tishrei, is the first month, and we count the months from there. That’s how Tishrei comes out as the seventh month. So when does Nisan fall? Usually around March-April; it’s your Hebrew birth month. đ The first night of Passover falls on the 15th of Nissan.
The other two new years are a little more obscure, so stay with me here.
The first of Elul is the new year for the tithing of cattle. There is a commandment to bring the firstborn of cattle to the Cohanim (priests), and the first of Elul was sort of the “fiscal year” for animals born during that year, similar to how taxes are calculated in countries where the fiscal year starts on a date other than the first of January. This new year is no longer observed, because we no longer have a Temple and the priests cannot receive these offerings. But Elul–which is the month before Tishrei–has taken on the significance of preparing for the High Holidays.
The last of the new years is the 15th of Shvat, or Tu B’Shvat (because the number 15 is written as ×”×, tet-vav, or the numerical value of 9+6. Why don’t we write 10+5? Because then it would be yud-heh, and that spells one of the names of God. 16 is written 9+7, ×”×, for the same reason). This new year is used for calculating the age of plants or crops for certain commandments that have to do with agriculture, or for agricultural tithing. It has become known as “the new year for trees”, and has become a minor holiday on which we celebrate trees and their fruit. It is customary to eat the new fruit of the season on this day. The Kabbalistic mystics created a sort of ceremony, a “seder” (similar to the Passover seder), during which they eat symbolic fruit and discuss its significance. It’s also evolved into the Israeli Arbor Day. A day to plant new trees and to develop environmental awareness.
And, as always, an excuse to eat delicious food. Photo credit: Gilabrand
So. Why am I telling you all this now?
Because tonight is Rosh Chodesh Shvat; the first day of the new month of Shvat. A month I happen to be especially fond of, not only because I have a thing for trees, but also because my birthday falls on the 3rd. đ
Birthdays are not much of a big deal in Jewish tradition, though it is said that it’s a sign of a righteous person when s/he dies on his/her birthday. (This is said to have been true of Moses and King David.) Generally, important Jewish figures are commemorated on the day of death, not the day of birth. However, we do tend to celebrate like people in many other cultures. We’re all about giving thanks on a day that commemorates something good that happened to you, and getting born is pretty high on that list! đ It is said that on one’s birthday, just like on one’s wedding day, one has a particularly strong connection to God and can give particularly powerful blessings to others. (The reason for this, by the way, is that such life events bring us joy, and joy brings us closer to God.)
And, well, you’ve experienced firsthand that my blessings have a fairly good record đ If there’s something specific you’d like me to pray for this Friday, let me know. đ Either way, you know I will be (and have been) praying for you.
Chodesh Tov, many blessings, and lots of love,
Daniella
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Blog readers: What do you think about what seems to be a conflict between the Bible’s calculation of the history of humankind versus the scientific calculation? What meaning does that number, 5775, hold for you?
