Sunday’s bnei mitzvah class began with me receiving an education. I had seen “Angry Birds” but never played. Who knew each bird had a specific talent that you have to deploy strategically? We thought that perhaps a Jewish version of Angry Birds exists: “Maccabees vs. Temple invaders!” or something like that.
We watched a delightful 22-minute movie made in 1998 called God@Heaven. A little boy named Adam, whose best friend is his dog, is curious about religion. He receives a flyer inviting him to send an email to God for $10. He composes an email, asking “How do I know you’re there?” and steals his father’s credit card to pay the fee. The email arrives in Israel, where a young man prints it out, brings it to the Western Wall, and places it in a crack. But the note falls out of the wall, and is swept into a trash can at the end of the day. Meanwhile, Adam waits eagerly at home, checking his email daily for an answer.
Finally, an email comes! It says:
“I’m here, Adam.”
Adam types a reply. “But where?”
And an answer appears on the screen. “Right here with you.”
Adam turns to his dog, and says, “YOU???”
Words continue to appear on his computer screen. “I know where you got the $10.”
Adam looks terribly guilty, then giggles and goes out to play with his dog.
It was a bit difficult for us to discuss the movie with a straight face, as the sound had not been working, and we spent much of the movie imagining voice-overs for the dog. Nonetheless, we managed a few thoughtful points.
Why does the movie show the boy thinking that the dog might be God? Daniel W: “Because everything is part of God.”
Who was typing the reply? Maya: “The boy was imagining it, because he believed so strongly in God.”
Do you have any questions? Daniel S: “Why would someone charge money to bring prayers to the Kotel?”
We moved into the kitchen, where I announced that we were going to bake dog biscuits – healthy, vegetarian treats. Maya made the connection, “Because we watched a movie where a dog reflects God, so we’re going to do something nice for dogs.”
We discussed the concepts of mitzvah – ritual or good deed; tikkun olam – repair of the world; gemilut chesed – acts of loving kindness; and tzedakah – financial help.
Then we washed our hands, reviewed the recipe, assembled the ingredients, and shared the jobs. We read, preheated, measured, poured, mixed, kneaded, rolled, cut, placed our cookie sheet in the oven, and washed the dishes.
As the dog biscuits baked, we sat down for a snack of our own: chocolate covered biscuits, not a healthy snack for dogs!
And as the chocolate opened our minds, we began a Talmudic discussion. Have you ever found a lost item? What did you do with it? When would you keep it, and when would you look for the owner? Would where you found it make a difference? If you look for the owner, how long would you advertise? What if you found a lost animal? What happens if two people find a lost animal at the same time? We all agreed that if you had any way of figuring out the owner, you should return the item or the animal.
I wish I could say the students were astonished to find out that they had engaged in a famous ethical discussion, but actually they saw right through me. “We’re going to connect this to Torah now, aren’t we?” asked Daniel S.
We read the passage from Devarim-Deuteronomy about finding a lost ox. No one could imagine an animal that big being lost, so we made a string of bad jokes and giggled a lot. But once we straightened up, someone observed that taking care of an ox is a lot to ask. Don’t you have to feed it? Can you put it to work? What if you’re not a farmer and you have no work for it? These questions — similar to the ones Talmud asks — were our group commentary on the Torah passage.
We had a look at the volumes of Mishna and Talmud – codes of Jewish law and ethics — that I had strategically placed on the table. We talked about the way the Talmud page is laid out. At the centre, an excerpt from the Mishna’s commentary on the Torah passage plus a commentary on the Mishna. Around it, commentary on that commentary. Underneath it, commentary on that commentary. Blank margins for you to write in your own commentary on the commentary on the commentary. And so the discussion of Torah continues through the ages…
For some reason, the idea of endless commentary was a hit. Until…seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…the song Daniel S. had set on his iPhone let us know that the biscuits were ready!
The brave among us tasted these peanut-butter & wheat concoctions; Maya took home two for her dogs; I took the rest to give to some very special needy animals. And the three students posed by the Talmud with their for-human-consumption-only chocolate cookies.
Is it just my imagination, or do those cookies look suspiciously like the volume of Mishna on the table…
Images: nickleshi.blogspot.com, popular-dogbreeds.blogspot.com, Laura Duhan Kaplan (2).
NEWSFLASH, FEB 9: Ash and Tango enjoy our treats. The third member of their canine family, Ruby, recently died. Bringing food to the bereaved is an important act of gemilut chesed.
