Brookwrite

Pro portions

by Doug Brook
Southern Shofar Columnist

Breaking news: The legal industry has been convicted -- by this court, with no peers -- of stealing a record amount of headlines and attention during the past three months. Convicted of criminal conspiracy, the popular media has decided the nation is to be obsessed with such monumental, life-shattering matters as Microsoft's pathetic excuse for business ethics (and an operating system), Clinton's progressive mentoring program, and Latrell Sprewell's revision of acceptable workplace ethics and accountability.

This writer is certain there is no coincidence in these legal matters having arisen during the months when we read the third book of the Torah, "Vayikra" ("Leviticus", for the ancient Greeks out there).

Most Jews cannot recall what happens in the book of Vayikra because they did not pay attention in Sunday School; nor do they attend services, where they could find out. But they should not (and probably don't) feel guilty about this. Most of the Jews who did pay attention, or who have walked into a synagogue since October, don't remember what happened in Vayikra, either. This is because there's very little story. It's mainly a long presentation of laws. And scientific studies show that nobody in today's world actually needs to be reminded of laws. If you ask them.

(One of the many scientific studies was conducted by this writer who, while driving 80 down the highway, counted several cars passing him on both sides. As we all know, it is now legal to pass on the right on highways when exceeding 80 mph.)

The laws in Vayikra focus on sacrifices. Most of these laws can be ignored today in their most literal sense, since there is no Temple in Jerusalem, and since the inception of the ASPCA. As with so many teachings in the Bible, the ignoring of these laws has proven timeless. Vayikra discusses how people were compelled to sacrifice for their religion by bringing offerings to the Temple, leaving various bits of their fields for the poor, and such.

As with many traditional practices, many Jews today have added contemporary interests to the original text. After all, most of us don't have fields to tend or synagogues that accept slain cattle in lieu of dues (though many accept credit cards, so I have hopes...). As a result, many of us take the logical next step by ignoring the need to sacrifice things like hockey tickets, soccer practice, Friday nights with friends, and Saturday morning cartoons to practice or learn about their religion.

But most people don't want to dwell on pesky things like the past, so why should I make you?

Looking ahead, one of the Torah readings this month is Behalotcha, from the book of Bemidbar (literally "in the desert" which, with true government thoroughness, King James translates as "Numbers"). In this reading, at least 10 of us will hear the story of when the Jews set the biblical precedent for what has become centuries of questioning our beliefs and complaining to the staff about our meals.

For many years in the dessert, the Israelites had been eating manna. This is food that came down from the heavens every day which, according to tradition, tasted like whatever the eater wanted it to... much like its modern counterpart, Manischevitz (Yiddish for "manna that makes you schvitz like crazy").

(Official disclaimer: The management has asked me to clarify that yes, this was the intended satirical Yiddish translation. This is family hour reading. Any relation between this translation and any cruder innuendi is coincidental, and no animals were harmed in the writing of this column.)

(Unofficial disclaimer: No, that was not the only intended satirical Yiddish translation. Any relation between this translation and any cruder innuendi was completely intentional, and I killed two spiders while writing this column.)

Anyway, augmented by their impatience after waiting in the desert during the writing of a whole book of the Torah with no story, the Israelites got sick of (and sometimes from) the same menu after so many years. There are unconfirmed accounts that no matter what they wanted the manna always tasted like chicken. Not to mention all the people who were standing around when the manna was landing. (If you thought getting a pie in the face wasn't fun...)

So the Big G decided to inflict suffering on his people by inflicting us with the surplus from one of his failed investments: Courtroom Religious Displays, Inc. No, that was just a precedent. This was one of his failed cattle investments: He sent them quail to eat. This shut them up for nearly an entire book of the Bible. Though some rabbinic scholars speculate this is only because people were in "such pain as if the earth opened up and swallowed us whole" that they stood in silence in line for the port-o-lets.

If you don't believe in history repeating itself, consider this: Once again, in the mid-1980s, the Big G heard our cries about our status quo. He sent us Quayle, and we stopped complaining about everything that was bothering us before. Now we had a new hot potatoe to complain about, making us appreciate that much more the literacy we had taken for granted.

Suddenly, it seemed easier to stomach everything else. (Except for a certain plate of sushi served at a diplomatic function.)

The moral is that if you need to shut your kids up for a long trip through a desert, tell them to behave or you'll give them four years of Quayle, starting in 2000.

Doug Brook is a technical writer in Silicon Valley who, if he'd been there in the time of the Exodus ("Sh'mot" for you ancient Greeks taking Hebrew as a Second Language), might not have been redeemed because he would have imagined the manna tasting like a cheeseburger. Just to see if it would work.