The 613 Mitzvot/613 Commandments

As I said I would over at my blog The Next big Gig, I am now beginning a study of all 613 Mitzvot.

Why? Partially as a way to balance my ongoing pursuit of the profane, but more so because it’s come to my attention, once again, that I know nothing about Judaism. I’ve been reminded of this year after year the more I learn about Judaism. Truly, I feel like a dolt of a Jew most of the time. Combine that with my interest and fascination with religion and you have a fine little conflict. But the one thing that keeps getting clearer is that I know nothing about Judaism.

Interestingly, many folks who’ve known me in the last five years think I do. Last year, when I had the pleasure of using the house of my roommate as a staging ground for parties, I’d throw crazy pseudo-religiously themed get-togethers and after a brief monologue on the nature of the event we were celebrating, people actually affectionately spontaneously started calling me “rabbi”. I found this most gratifying as my spoken Plan-B should the rest of my life not work out is to become a rabbi. Or cantor. Or singing rabbi. (Cantors have to study the same number of years as rabbis and just don’t get the same respect, so why not do both?)

So now I’m doing something about my ignorance. I’m gonna find out and figure out each and every commandment. First I have to learn what they are. I figure it’ll just take me 2 years to get through them all.

Here’s a list in case you’d like to peruse the curriculum:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/613_Mitzvot

What motivated this was that just two weeks ago I was at a morning religious study with the wonderful Rabbi Greyber (a man younger than myself, which I still have a hard time dealing with, as all rabbis ought to be older than me. At least he has a wife and three children so that makes him seem older even if I’ve got a few more years on him.) So I was there with half a dozen other Jews discussing a chapter from Rabbi Heschel’s “Man in Search of God” which I’m told is a classic text of modern American Hebraic literature. I’d never heard of it myself as with most things Jewish which is a constant and growing consternation for me. Why? Because I went to Hebrew school. I got bar mitzvahed. My parents celebrated all the big holidays. We did Friday night Shabbat dinners through high school. And once I went to college, I’d return sometimes to still attend kabbalat Shabbat in little chapel at our temple where the cantor invariably asked me to sing the blessing over the wine at the end of the service. I can read and pronounce the Hebrew letters. I once knew trope and how to chant torah. I read from the torah two out of the last three yeas during Rosh Hashana. I was the macher at my “temple” Nashuva. I’ve been to Israel twice.

And yet I still seem to know nothing.

I should have heard about this book we were studying. Luckily, when the rabbi suggested it, I at least had heard of the author. Two years back, I was introduced to Rabbi Heschel by a friend who’s a ‘Jew by Choice’ (aka convert – I’d never heard that term before either, and dislike it - it somehow smacks of fear of offending someone.) But the point is, a convert with no history of Judaism had to learn me on this famous rabbi.

How have I missed all these crucial things? For Godssakes, I read the whole fucking bible when I got out of college. It was my auto-didactic continuing education program. I just started at Genesis and kept going ‘til I finished. Then I picked up the New Testament and went through that. Then I picked up “Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures” the foundation for Christian Science and stumbled my way through that.

Christian Science is the only Christian religion which has held much fascination for me. That interest began in high school because my best friend grew up in the religion. But he never talked with me about it. We just knew he couldn’t take drugs or seek medical attention. After much badgering as to what it was all about, one time, he blurted out an answer:

“Basically the entire world is an illusion and reality is immaterial!”

Well, alrighty then. That’s some serious existential shit to lay on a teen mind. Actually an adult mind too. But I’ve continued to be fascinated and infuriated by it. There’s a purity to Christian Science I find bold and idealistic bordering on insane.

Anyway, with all that reading I did after college, I still knew nothing. I retained little in the maze of all those words as my Christian Science scholar of a girlfriend pointed out to me a few years ago.

I was trying to make a point to her one time with something I was sure was a story from the Torah. She assured me I was mistaken, so I said, “Maybe it was a story a rabbi told me from the Talmud.” (Which I’ve still never actually seen). But I couldn’t find it anywhere. Then a year later, as I read a children’s book which was a Christmas present to her adopted Chinese niece I realized the story was just an old Chinese tale.

Another reminder I know nothing about religion. I’m so clueless, a Chinese parable smells like my own religion to me.

Here’s a version of the story:
A man had a prized stallion run away. His friends came to console him and said “We’re so sorry for you. That’s such bad news.” He simply responded, “Maybe. Maybe not.” Sure enough, the stallion soon returned—with six other wild horses. His friends said, “What good news!” But the man just said, “Maybe. Maybe not.” Sure enough, one of the wild horses threw the wise man’s son and he broke his leg. The friends gathered again to say they were so sorry to hear this news, which he must agree is surely bad. “Maybe. Maybe not,” he said. Confounded, they left him thinking he was an unfeeling man and a poor father. Sure enough though, the next day the Chinese army passed through the area taking all the able-bodied young men to be soldiers. The son with the broken leg was not able to fight, so he was left with his father, while all those taken died the following day in a harrowing battle. And the story goes on…

It’s a beautiful story which I try to remind myself of on a regular basis. Some Christians have co-opted the tale to assure followers not to question the mysterious ways of our Lord. It’s a flexible little fable. Either way, I still like the story and wish it were in the Talmud.

But it’s not and I was revealed again to know nothing. I often wished there were some guidebook to the bible. Mary Baker Eddy tried that with ‘Science and Health”, but her “key to the scriptures” is more confounding than that which it tries to decipher. And I was looking for something that smoothed out the curves of the original jagged cobbled together text.

Then, a few years back, I heard there were 613 mitzvot which some also call the 613 commandments. I’d lived 30 years and no one had told me there was a complete list and all I had to do was follow them.

I found them online here and started reading through.

Much to my disappointment I found some to be:

• out of date. #582 - To appoint a king (Deut. 17:15)
• not applicable. #64 - That a eunuch shall not marry a daughter of Israel (Deut. 23:2)
• a bummer. #438 - Not to anoint a stranger with the anointing oil (Ex. 30:32) [ed. Note. But anointing strangers with oil is fun!]
• common sense. #32 - Not to bear a grudge (Lev. 19:18)
• not all that helpful in daily life. #483 - Not to sever completely the head of a fowl brought as a sin-offering (Lev. 5:8)
• cold-hearted and offensive - #602 - To exterminate the seven Canaanite nations from the land of Israel (Deut. 20:17)

But the list came up again at the morning study with Rabbi Greyber, so he lent me a book that covered the positive commandments (half of them). This book isn’t just a list, it’s a translation and commentary by Rabbi Dr. Charles B. Chavel trying to explain why Maimonides picked these rules from the torah in the 12th Century as a guide for all Jews to live a good life.

So starting today, I’m going to go through them one by one and taking a day off for Shabbat every week. I’m only doing half to start with. They’re all the positive commandments and non of the prohibitions. I should finish in a year if I work on it.

And you’re invited to come along for the ride.