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An
old
joke:
Roy
and
Simon
are in
the
middle
of
heated
argument,
when
their
friends
Joe and
David
arrive.
They
all
listen
as Roy
presents
his
case.
"You're
right,"
David
says,
when
Roy is
done
speaking.
"Wait
a
minute,"
Simon
complains.
"You
haven't
heard
my
side."
After
Simon
finishes
talking,
David
proclaims,
"He's
also
right."
"How
can
they
both be
right?"
asks
Joe, in
exasperation.
"Their
arguments
are
diametrically
opposed
to one
another."
"You're
right,
too!"
David
replies.
Just
how old
is that
joke?
Well,
it
hasn't
been
found
in the
Dead
Sea
Scrolls
or
inscribed
on any
clay
slab.
Yet
it's
not
entirely
far-fetched
to
believe
that
the
joke is
at
least
as old
as the
Jewish
Calendar
- some
3,300
years -
since a
similar
conversation
could
have
taken
place
at the
time
the
calendar
was
created.
Here's
the
argument.
It's
the
first
day of
the
Jewish
month
that we
now
call
Nissan.
The
Jewish
people
are
still
enslaved
in
Egypt -
but not
for
much
longer
because
G-d is
about
to
deliver
them
out of
captivity.
G-d
says to
Moses
and his
brother
Aaron,
"This
month
(Nissan)
shall
be the
beginning
of the
months
for
you; it
shall
be the
first
of the
months
of the
year
for
you"
(Exodus
12:2).
In
other
words,
G-d is
instructing
the
Jewish
people
to make
a new
calendar.
G-d
then
goes on
to tell
them
the
date
the
Exodus
is
going
to
happen,
and
that
the
people
should
remember
this
day for
all
time.
The
task
sounds
simple
enough.
Just
start
counting
the new
year
from
the
month
of
Nissan
-
instead
of
beginning
the new
year
with
whatever
month
they
had
been
using
as a
starting
point
before
- and
put a
gold
star on
the big
day,
which
is the
15th
of
Nissan.
But
a few
lines
later -
after
the
Exodus
has
occurred,
and
Moses
is
speaking
to the
newly
freed
people
- we
read
that
Moses
commands
the
people
to
remember
this
day
that
happened
in the
month
called
"Aviv"
(Exodus
13:4).
Furthermore,
Moses
tells
them,
"You
shall
therefore
keep
this
statute
(remembering
the
Exodus)
in its
season
from
year to
year"
(Exodus
13:10).
From
this we
learn
that
the
mitzvah
of
remembering
the
Exodus
must be
done
during
the
season
when
the
original
Exodus
occurred
- in
Aviv,
which
means
"spring".
And
that's
where
the
problem
begins.
The
concept
of a
"month"
is
based
upon
the
phases
of the
moon -
a cycle
that
takes
approximately
29 ½
days to
complete.
A new
month
begins
with a
new
moon, a
tiny
sliver
in the
sky,
and
reaches
its
apex on
the 15th
-
when
the
moon is
full.
The
seasons
of the
year,
on the
other
hand,
are
determined
by the
earth's
orbit
around
the
sun. If
a
calendar
is
based
on the
lunar
cycle,
it
can't
be
solar -
and
vice
versa -
because
they
are as
different
as,
well,
night
and
day.
So
how
should
the
Committee
for
Creating
a New
Jewish
Calendar
go
about
solving
the
problem
of
keeping
Passover
both in
the
spring
and on
the 15th
day of
Nissan?
The
argument
in
favor
of a
lunar
calendar
is that
a
holiday
will
always
occur
at the
same
point
in the
moon's
cycle.
This is
important
because
the
Exodus
took
place
on a
night
when
there
was a
full
moon,
which
has a
special
significance
for the
Jewish
people.
Our
fortune
as a
nation
is
often
compared
to the
phases
of the
moon -
for
just as
the
moon
always
renews
itself,
so,
too,
does
G-d
promise
us that
we will
always
experience
a
renewal
- even
after
the
darkest
night.
Therefore,
if we
want to
re-experience
the
Exodus
on a
night
when
the
moon is
full -
symbolic
of the
time
when
our
good
fortune
is at
its
peak -
a lunar
calendar
is
definitely
the way
to go.
However,
in a
regular
12-month
lunar
calendar,
which
consists
of only
354
days,
holidays
will
float
through
the
months
and
occur
at
different
seasons.
The
prime
example
of a
lunar-based
calendar
is the
Moslem
calendar,
in
which
the
month
of
Ramadan,
a holy
month
for the
Moslems,
can -
and
eventually
does -
occur
in
every
season.
Since
Passover
must
take
place
in the
spring,
a lunar
calendar
is
therefore
out of
the
question.
In
a
solar-based
calendar,
which
is the
365-day
calendar
used by
the
western
world,
we know
that
Memorial
Day (in
America)
will
always
signal
the
beginning
of
summer
and
Labor
Day
means
that
fall is
on its
way. It
could
also
help us
fix
Passover
in the
spring.
But
this
calendar
is
hopeless
for
figuring
out
when
the new
moon or
a full
moon
will
occur,
since
the
first
day of
the
solar
month
is not
at all
connected
to the
lunar
cycle.
It
seems,
therefore,
that
G-d was
asking
the
Jewish
people
to do
the
impossible:
join
together
two
opposing
concepts
- lunar
and
solar -
to
create
a new
kind of
calendar.
This
request
was
revolutionary
then,
and it
is
still
revolutionary
today.
Because
this
request
was not
just
about
creating
a new
calendar
- G-d
was
asking
the
Jewish
people
to
create
a whole
new way
of
looking
at the
world.
Most
of the
world's
philosophers
have
tended
to
divide
the
world
into
dichotomies.
Something
is
either
black
or it's
white,
and
you're
either
in one
camp or
the
other.
For
instance,
a
favorite
philosophical
question
asks,
"Is
a
person
body or
soul?"
Some
religious
traditions
have
suggested
that
our
purpose
in life
is to
totally
transcend
the
body
and the
material
world
and
become
all
soul.
They
recommend
practices
such as
fasting,
seclusion
and
meditation
to
reach
the
higher
truth.
Some
not
particularly
religious
traditions,
on the
other
hand,
adamantly
proclaim
that we
are
only
body
and the
physical
world
is all
there
is. The
old
beer
slogan,
"Grab
all the
gusto
you can
get,"
could
be
their
motto.
Judaism's
answer
to the
question,
in
contrast,
is an
enthusiastic,
"Yes!"
Since
G-d is
one and
He is
the
source
of
everything,
there
must be
a way
to
reconcile
these
seemingly
opposing
forces.
Do
we have
body
that
has
very
real
needs
that
should
be
listened
to? You
bet. Do
we have
a soul
that
longs
for
something
higher,
and has
an
awareness
of the
eternal
in this
transitory
world?
Absolutely.
Like
David
in the
joke
told
above,
Jewish
thinkers
have
listened
to the
arguments
of each
side
and
concluded,
"You're
both
right."
Body
and
soul
both
very
much
exist,
and in
this
world,
at
least,
you
can't
have
one
without
the
other
and
remain
alive.
In
fact,
it is
this
interplay
between
the
physical
and
spiritual,
with
all its
frictions,
that
makes a
human
being
human -
and not
an
animal
or an
angel -
and
allows
us to
fulfill
our
life's
purpose.
Another
big
argument
that
has
been
discussed
for
ages
involves
the
question
of fate
vs.
free
will.
Is our
life's
path
determined
at
birth
or are
we
totally
free to
choose
the
direction
our
lives
will
take?
Again,
Judaism's
answer
is,
"Yes."
G-d
most
certainly
has a
plan
for
this
world,
yet we
are
free to
choose
our
role in
it.
A
prime
example
of how
this
works
is the
Purim
story.
Haman,
chief
advisor
to King
Ahashverus,
has
issued
an
edict
to kill
all the
Jews
living
within
the
Persian
Empire.
G-d has
arranged
things
beforehand,
so to
speak,
so that
Esther,
who has
kept
her
Jewishness
a
secret,
has to
marry
King
Ahashverus.
Thus,
when
Haman
announces
his
plan to
kill
the
Jews, a
rescuer
- Queen
Esther
- is
already
in the
palace
and in
a
position
to stop
Haman.
All she
has to
do is
play
her
part -
and
that's
the
moment
where
free
will
steps
in.
At
first,
Esther
uses
her
free
will to
refuse
to
stick
her
neck
out for
her
people.
She is
afraid
she
might
anger
the
king,
and get
her own
head
chopped
off
(it's
happened
before
in this
palace).
It is
only
when
her
Uncle
Mordechai
reminds
her
that
G-d has
a plan
to save
the
Jews -
with or
without
her
help -
that
Esther
reconsiders
and
agrees
to be
the
catalyst
for
putting
this
plan
into
action.
This
ability
to take
seeming
paradoxes
of life
and
create
a unity
out of
them
has
characterized
the
Jewish
people
since
their
very
beginnings
as a
nation
- and
it has
preserved
us till
this
very
day.
For it
is no
accident
that
the
first
mitzvah-task
we were
given
was to
solve
the
riddle
of the
lunar/solar
calendar.
In the
way
this
commandment
is
phrased
in
Hebrew,
there
is a
hint as
to how
to
solve
not
just
the
calendar
riddle,
but
also
another
seeming
paradox
- how
can the
Jewish
people
be both
the
oldest
nation
in the
world
and the
youngest?
Back
in
Exodus
12:4,
G-d
tells
the
people,
"This
month
shall
be the
beginning
of the
months
for
you; it
shall
be the
first
of the
months
of the
year
for
you."
Why
does
G-d
need to
say
both
parts
of the
phrase?
What's
the
difference
between
being
the
"beginning
of the
months"
and
being
the
"first
of the
months
of the
year"?
In
Hebrew
the
word
for
month
is
"chodesh,"
which
has the
same
three-letter
root as
the
word
for
"new"
(chadash).
On the
other
hand,
the
word
for
"year"
in
Hebrew
is
"shana,"
which
has the
same
root as
the
word
for
"old"
(y'shan).
The
challenge
of the
Jewish
calendar,
therefore,
is to
join
together
the two
opposing
forces
of old
and
new.
Some
cultures,
such as
the
Egyptian
culture
the
Jewish
people
had
been
enslaved
in,
make
their
people
captives
of the
past.
Others,
such as
American
culture,
entice
their
citizens
to
worship
at the
altar
of the
new.
Judaism
is
unique
in that
it asks
us to
be both
old and
new at
the
same
time.
Yes,
during
our
holidays
we
commemorate
events
that
happened
thousands
of
years
ago.
But we
do so
because
we know
that by
living
in tune
with
the
Jewish
calendar,
we can
plug
into
the
same
spiritual
energy
that
transformed
and
elevated
our
ancestors
and use
this
energy
to
recharge
our own
spiritual
batteries.
Every
Passover
- in
fact,
every
Jewish
holiday
- is a
call to
wake
up,
change
and
grow.
Whether
we are
retelling
the
story
of the
Exodus
or
lighting
the
Chanukah
menorah,
each
holiday
gives
us a
unique
opportunity
to
re-ignite
that
spark
of
holiness
that is
found
in
every
soul.
What
we
experience
on an
individual
level,
we also
experience
on a
national
level.
Since
we know
that
just as
Passover
recalls
the
past
redemption
from
Egypt,
it also
foretells
the
future,
final
redemption,
there
has
never
been a
time in
our
history
- no
matter
how
dark -
when we
have
given
up
hope.
It
is this
ability
to be
both
deeply
connected
to the
past
and
committed
to
making
each
day
"new
and
improved"
that
has
enabled
the
Jewish
people
to pass
over
2,000
years
of
exile,
persecution
and
Holocaust
and
always
retain
a
youthful
sense
of
optimism
about
the
future.
It's
also
what
makes a
calendar
Jewish.
(N.B.
So how
does
the
Jewish
calendar
solve
the
lunar-solar
paradox?
The
Jewish
calendar
is,
indeed,
based
on the
lunar
cycle.
But
because
a lunar
calendar's
"year"
has
only
approximately
354
days -
eleven
days
less
than a
solar
calendar
- our
calendar
has to
somehow
make up
for
this
loss.
We do
this by
creating
leap
years
seven
times
during
a
19-year
cycle,
where a
13th
month (Adar
II) is
added
at the
end of
the
year.
In this
way,
the
calendar
is able
to
remain
in tune
with
both
the
lunar
and
solar
cycles.)
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