(CREATIVE NONFICTION)
COUNTING RABBIS
ELI JACOBS
COUNTING RABBIS
ELI JACOBS
The day, that is the total time between sunrise and sunset, is divided into twelve. The resulting number is the length of a halachic hour. Shaot Zmaniyot How are the shaot zmaniyot of my life calculated?
How are they tracked?
I have 6 children. Some say, Apportion one day per week to each child and rest on the seventh.
Others say, Divide the days of the year into six parts and budget accordingly.
Thus, each child receives what they need when they need it.
If there is a war in Gaza, the son in the army may need seven consecutive days.
A child before his marriage may require 30 half days for preparations.
Others say, Time and attention to children cannot be apportioned.
Rather, one’s love and energy must flow like a river with its waters spilling over to fill all the crevices.
How do I count the tefillin in the drawer that I have not used for fifteen years?
Some say, Count one for the summer months and one for the winter months.
Others say, Tefillin are God’s arithmetic book: shin–300, yud–10, revolutions around the arm–7, finger twists–3.
All wisdom–advanced calculus, string theory, quantum physics–is revealed in the tefillin.
Others say, He who disrespects his tefillin is no longer included in God’s arithmetic, has made himself dyscalculic, thus counting no longer counts.
How do I count the souls of my dead relatives, two dead parents, two dead brothers?
Some say, One.
For all souls rise to heaven and join Knesset Yisrael.
Others say, Three.
Count one for brothers and one for parents and one for God who is the partner in death.
How do I count the words in an essay, the emotions in a paragraph, the pain in a story?
How do I count the tears I cry as I write?
Add the number of pages to the number of deceased and multiply by 31–the duration of one shaa zmanit as measured on the darkest day of the year.
Others say, Multiply by 21/12.
How do I count the hours as I anticipate the arrival of a grandchild?
Some say, Count as the longest day of the year, for it is an occasion of light. Others say, When it is a grandchild one need not count; for the joy is infinite and the responsibility infinitesimal.
How do I count the miniature toes on my granddaughter’s tiny foot?
Some say - one miracle - two miracles - three miracles - and up to ten.
Others say, If there is no God who perpetrated these so-called miracles, there can be no count.
Others say, Kiss the toes, cherish the toes, gaze in awe at the toes.
How do I count the sound of the noise makers at the Megillah reading at my son’s mixed religious-secular school?
Some say, Add the decibels and divide by two because half the families are not religious and do not count.
Others say, Sweet is the sound made by evil people in order to eradicate evil (Haman). Thus, count the decibels of the secular families and multiply by two but award only one point to each religious decibel.
How do I count the bewilderment, the alienation, the sense of homelessness?
The longing for the identity that I killed and abandoned after it was the only me I knew for forty years.
How do I measure the pangs of desire for the lost structure that contained and dictated my life?
Some say, My dead self is now in the world to come.
But in my world there is no world to come
On this the rabbis did not disagree. He who foregoes his identity is as if he has foregone his birth, but others say, Read not birth but bird, others say read hairpiece or dead cat or the thorn in one’s tusik.
On this there is no disagreement.
Others claim that the statement that there is no disagreement concerned the salinity of the water in the Dead Sea.
How does one count shabbatot in Herzliya–working, writing, going to the beach and to movies and eating bacon pizza at the mall?
This counting has not been counted, for the rabbis did not go to Herzliya.
TAYKU. Eliyahu Hanavi will count the bacon pizza.
How does one count the hours, days and years of soul-destroying Torah indoctrination?
How does one measure the toxicity of dogma?
Some say, count the words taught to each child over each year at each day school, ulpana and yeshiva in each city in each country on each continent.
Others agree but say count the halachot taught separately.
For the guilty damage of halacha is uncountable. Guilt is a hollow in the soul inflated by the knowing of each sin.
Knowing the wrongness of each of one’s deeds in all its minute detail–a shoe placed on the right foot, an impure hand that touches bread, a meal after which one does not recite birkat hamazon, seed spilled, erotic acts imagined, prayers skipped, kol nidres unheard due to heartburn and drowsiness caused by the breaking meal – further expands the hollow, stretching it to the deepest places in the soul.
The guilty hollow is an abyss, invincible and eternal.
As stated, he who has sinned destroys seven worlds, his own and that of his parents and his children and his children’s children.
Others say, she who cuts herself free is like a bird that escapes from its cage and flies. For that bird’s mere freedom brings song and joy to the world.
Others say, and he brings song and joy to God’s world.
How does one count the minutes of lost intimacy between husband and wife during monthly impurity?
How does one count the absence of consoling words that can only be spoken through touch?
How does one count the misunderstandings and slights that could be soothed with an embrace but, as commanded, must be left to fester? What is the measurement for infections that could have been transformed through the making of love?
Some say, One does not count that which is not.
Others say, The holy Shechina replaces the intimacy ten-fold.
How does one count shaot zmaniyot for rabbis who rape and molest their students?
Some say, Count every other hour for raping six times a day is sufficient.
Others say, Rape rabbis are aberrations–the children of fathers who put on their right shoe before the left and mothers who reached to hold the hand of a boy on a Friday night walk.
How does one count love?
Some say in kisses.
Others say in the breadth of the heart, for it can stretch to equal the girth of the entire world.
Others say:
Let consonant and vowel cover the earth like manna,
Let melody prance and harmony flow,
That all creatures may rejoice in their glory.
The rabbis concluded; Let us not count.
Let us write.
Let us speak.
Let us sing.
How are they tracked?
I have 6 children. Some say, Apportion one day per week to each child and rest on the seventh.
Others say, Divide the days of the year into six parts and budget accordingly.
Thus, each child receives what they need when they need it.
If there is a war in Gaza, the son in the army may need seven consecutive days.
A child before his marriage may require 30 half days for preparations.
Others say, Time and attention to children cannot be apportioned.
Rather, one’s love and energy must flow like a river with its waters spilling over to fill all the crevices.
How do I count the tefillin in the drawer that I have not used for fifteen years?
Some say, Count one for the summer months and one for the winter months.
Others say, Tefillin are God’s arithmetic book: shin–300, yud–10, revolutions around the arm–7, finger twists–3.
All wisdom–advanced calculus, string theory, quantum physics–is revealed in the tefillin.
Others say, He who disrespects his tefillin is no longer included in God’s arithmetic, has made himself dyscalculic, thus counting no longer counts.
How do I count the souls of my dead relatives, two dead parents, two dead brothers?
Some say, One.
For all souls rise to heaven and join Knesset Yisrael.
Others say, Three.
Count one for brothers and one for parents and one for God who is the partner in death.
How do I count the words in an essay, the emotions in a paragraph, the pain in a story?
How do I count the tears I cry as I write?
Add the number of pages to the number of deceased and multiply by 31–the duration of one shaa zmanit as measured on the darkest day of the year.
Others say, Multiply by 21/12.
How do I count the hours as I anticipate the arrival of a grandchild?
Some say, Count as the longest day of the year, for it is an occasion of light. Others say, When it is a grandchild one need not count; for the joy is infinite and the responsibility infinitesimal.
How do I count the miniature toes on my granddaughter’s tiny foot?
Some say - one miracle - two miracles - three miracles - and up to ten.
Others say, If there is no God who perpetrated these so-called miracles, there can be no count.
Others say, Kiss the toes, cherish the toes, gaze in awe at the toes.
How do I count the sound of the noise makers at the Megillah reading at my son’s mixed religious-secular school?
Some say, Add the decibels and divide by two because half the families are not religious and do not count.
Others say, Sweet is the sound made by evil people in order to eradicate evil (Haman). Thus, count the decibels of the secular families and multiply by two but award only one point to each religious decibel.
How do I count the bewilderment, the alienation, the sense of homelessness?
The longing for the identity that I killed and abandoned after it was the only me I knew for forty years.
How do I measure the pangs of desire for the lost structure that contained and dictated my life?
Some say, My dead self is now in the world to come.
But in my world there is no world to come
On this the rabbis did not disagree. He who foregoes his identity is as if he has foregone his birth, but others say, Read not birth but bird, others say read hairpiece or dead cat or the thorn in one’s tusik.
On this there is no disagreement.
Others claim that the statement that there is no disagreement concerned the salinity of the water in the Dead Sea.
How does one count shabbatot in Herzliya–working, writing, going to the beach and to movies and eating bacon pizza at the mall?
This counting has not been counted, for the rabbis did not go to Herzliya.
TAYKU. Eliyahu Hanavi will count the bacon pizza.
How does one count the hours, days and years of soul-destroying Torah indoctrination?
How does one measure the toxicity of dogma?
Some say, count the words taught to each child over each year at each day school, ulpana and yeshiva in each city in each country on each continent.
Others agree but say count the halachot taught separately.
For the guilty damage of halacha is uncountable. Guilt is a hollow in the soul inflated by the knowing of each sin.
Knowing the wrongness of each of one’s deeds in all its minute detail–a shoe placed on the right foot, an impure hand that touches bread, a meal after which one does not recite birkat hamazon, seed spilled, erotic acts imagined, prayers skipped, kol nidres unheard due to heartburn and drowsiness caused by the breaking meal – further expands the hollow, stretching it to the deepest places in the soul.
The guilty hollow is an abyss, invincible and eternal.
As stated, he who has sinned destroys seven worlds, his own and that of his parents and his children and his children’s children.
Others say, she who cuts herself free is like a bird that escapes from its cage and flies. For that bird’s mere freedom brings song and joy to the world.
Others say, and he brings song and joy to God’s world.
How does one count the minutes of lost intimacy between husband and wife during monthly impurity?
How does one count the absence of consoling words that can only be spoken through touch?
How does one count the misunderstandings and slights that could be soothed with an embrace but, as commanded, must be left to fester? What is the measurement for infections that could have been transformed through the making of love?
Some say, One does not count that which is not.
Others say, The holy Shechina replaces the intimacy ten-fold.
How does one count shaot zmaniyot for rabbis who rape and molest their students?
Some say, Count every other hour for raping six times a day is sufficient.
Others say, Rape rabbis are aberrations–the children of fathers who put on their right shoe before the left and mothers who reached to hold the hand of a boy on a Friday night walk.
How does one count love?
Some say in kisses.
Others say in the breadth of the heart, for it can stretch to equal the girth of the entire world.
Others say:
Let consonant and vowel cover the earth like manna,
Let melody prance and harmony flow,
That all creatures may rejoice in their glory.
The rabbis concluded; Let us not count.
Let us write.
Let us speak.
Let us sing.
Eli Jacobs grew up in New York in an Orthodox Jewish family. The youngest of four, Eli saw his two older brothers rebel against their rabbi father. Sensing that he must make things right for the family, Eli spent years in an ultra-Orthodox yeshiva, married and moved to Israel. When one brother died of cancer, and a few years later, the other of AIDS, life seemed to go on. Decades later, Jacobs found his life upended. He had divorced, moved out of the West Bank settlement that had been home for 17 years and left religion. Sensing that he did not know all there was to know about his brothers and their deaths, Jacobs began to research and write about his family and himself. His struggles, discoveries and insights led to a reconnecting with his brothers, years after their deaths. The working title for his memoir (a work in progress) is Unhiding. Eli's hybrid mini-memoir, Curator's Notes will appear in the Spring issue of Palaver. The curator tells his story through family photos, short texts and scanned excerpts from the family archive—diary entries, letters and other scribblings. Jacobs holds an MA in Creative Nonfiction Writing from Bar Ilan University and an MS in Education from Johns Hopkins University.
