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Since I was posting at Jewschool anyway...
Torahs are supposed to be transported with the absolute maximum of utter respect, as befits something that symbolises the essence of a religion.
So, you're delivering a Torah. You're taking it as cabin baggage, since checked isn't very nice. There's only the one of you, since it's not economically feasible for a companion to come with you. You're waiting in the concourse and you need to use the bathroom. What do you do?
Here are the values in play: In an airport, checked baggage doesn't get treated especially well, and if you leave anything unattended, it is liable to be stolen or removed and exploded (and the airport will be evacuated and everyone's flights will be disrupted). Also, a Torah has to be treated with respect in transit. Specifically, it is Very Not Okay to take a Torah into the bathroom, even if it is wrapped up. You may also not treat it like any old package, unless there are safety reasons such as being afraid of thieves.
Posed with the question, one kid in Berkeley decided, "You find a Jew and ask them to look after it..."
Asked if a Jew was necessary, kid said no, her second choice would be a security person, but a Jew would be better.
I think that's a splendid answer. It meets all the requirements of the situation, and adds the nuance that makes it a human response and not a mathematical deduction.
Interestingly, that highlights something about the basic process of halakhic decision-making. The scales are weighted by the baggage you bring with you - denominational preference, cultural inclinations, political implications, and so on. Above, I said: here are the values we need to weigh up (including acceptance of previous decisions, note), and here is the situation we need to work them into. Halakhic decision-making entails balancing all the values against the situation and working out a solution which has the maximally advantageous balance - and it turns out the best answer comes with reference to a value I didn't even list. That is, when listing the values to be considered, it's dashed hard to make sure you've got all of them - and even then, finding the answer isn't necessarily just a matter of weighing up all the components.
If it doesn't fit with people's instinct - that is, the sense, in the low levels of consciousness, that something does or does not harmonise with the set of values a person holds, and holds deeply enough that they are both fundamental to their being and almost past articulation - something's wrong. Some part of the puzzle is missing.
This is why halakha is more interesting than mathematics. It's not just about taking systemic data and processes and combining them consistently, it's also about incorporating the human element, which is considerably more complicated and subtle, and often appears to defy logic. Accommodating this and nonetheless managing to maintain a reasonably functional and consistent system is the challenge of formalistic Judaism, and a challenge which changes as often as the people who are part of it. It's not as calming as mathematics, but it's why I'm not a professional mathematician.
Torahs are supposed to be transported with the absolute maximum of utter respect, as befits something that symbolises the essence of a religion.
So, you're delivering a Torah. You're taking it as cabin baggage, since checked isn't very nice. There's only the one of you, since it's not economically feasible for a companion to come with you. You're waiting in the concourse and you need to use the bathroom. What do you do?
Here are the values in play: In an airport, checked baggage doesn't get treated especially well, and if you leave anything unattended, it is liable to be stolen or removed and exploded (and the airport will be evacuated and everyone's flights will be disrupted). Also, a Torah has to be treated with respect in transit. Specifically, it is Very Not Okay to take a Torah into the bathroom, even if it is wrapped up. You may also not treat it like any old package, unless there are safety reasons such as being afraid of thieves.
Posed with the question, one kid in Berkeley decided, "You find a Jew and ask them to look after it..."
Asked if a Jew was necessary, kid said no, her second choice would be a security person, but a Jew would be better.
I think that's a splendid answer. It meets all the requirements of the situation, and adds the nuance that makes it a human response and not a mathematical deduction.
Interestingly, that highlights something about the basic process of halakhic decision-making. The scales are weighted by the baggage you bring with you - denominational preference, cultural inclinations, political implications, and so on. Above, I said: here are the values we need to weigh up (including acceptance of previous decisions, note), and here is the situation we need to work them into. Halakhic decision-making entails balancing all the values against the situation and working out a solution which has the maximally advantageous balance - and it turns out the best answer comes with reference to a value I didn't even list. That is, when listing the values to be considered, it's dashed hard to make sure you've got all of them - and even then, finding the answer isn't necessarily just a matter of weighing up all the components.
If it doesn't fit with people's instinct - that is, the sense, in the low levels of consciousness, that something does or does not harmonise with the set of values a person holds, and holds deeply enough that they are both fundamental to their being and almost past articulation - something's wrong. Some part of the puzzle is missing.
This is why halakha is more interesting than mathematics. It's not just about taking systemic data and processes and combining them consistently, it's also about incorporating the human element, which is considerably more complicated and subtle, and often appears to defy logic. Accommodating this and nonetheless managing to maintain a reasonably functional and consistent system is the challenge of formalistic Judaism, and a challenge which changes as often as the people who are part of it. It's not as calming as mathematics, but it's why I'm not a professional mathematician.
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