A bit more than a decade ago, after Sabbath (Shabbat) services at my synagogue, a particularly ornery congregant tracked me down during kiddush, when people normally have a small bite to eat and socialize. Since that Shabbat coincided with Hannukah, the liturgy contained a number of modifications and insertions, including an extra paragraph added to the Amidah, the most important prayer of the service. Knowing that I was a professor of Judaic studies at Brown and that I specialized in ancient Jewish history, he wanted to know why we would recite this paragraph when the historical facts that it recounts are manifestly false. To my embarrassment, I had never really noticed this; I had routinely simply recited (or sometimes sung, since it has a catchy tune) the paragraph without thinking about it. He was right, though, and I told him I would check this out and have an answer the next week.
And thus, a blog was born.
Actually, that’s not entirely true. A couple of years earlier I had developed a podcast, “From Israelite to Jew,” on early Jewish history, and had started a blog to support it. There is a whole other story behind that podcast, which led to my book How the Bible Became Holy. In any case, this question at synagogue made me reconsider how I could use my blog more expansively. The question of why a patently false prayer was included in the service interested me, and I assumed it would interest others. And, well, I ended up having thoughts. These were not thoughts I wanted to develop formally and stiffly, with the extensive philological work and reference notes necessary of a peer-reviewed publication, but the blog offered a way for me share, reflect, muse, and invite others to join this conversation.
Over the last decade, I experimented with this blog. I posted ad hoc, often using it as a sounding board to help me develop ideas. An idea might start in a conversation or as a social media post (alas, I have recently left social media - yet another story); morph into a blog post; and from there develop into a more formal piece, whether for an academic or more general publication. Most ideas, though, simply remain floating provocatively, invitations for engagement. They are opportunities for play and thinking together with me.
My passion is ancient Judaism (or, as I prefer, “early Judaism,” following the terminology developed by a mentor, Martin Jaffee). Normally I write about ideas that in one way or another touch on ancient religion and history, although usually with a twist. That, however, is far from my only interest. I write about the modern university; pedagogy; digital humanities; happiness; and organic chemistry (yes - another story). My blog has been a kind of intellectual playbox. It is that same free-ranging set of interests that earlier discouraged me from switching over to Substack. Substack, the Web tells me, is tailored for writing that fits into niches. My publishers, admittedly, tell me the same thing. Yet now, despite my hesitation, I have decided to move to Substack. Things change. Perhaps my writing will find new and engaged readers. I look forward to experimenting.
I have also found that this kind of writing is good for me. It gets me into a rhythm and flow that contributes to the other kinds of writing that I do. I am hoping that the rhythm of “substacking” (do we call it that here?) will increase my own engagement with other projects.
My plan is to write a post (do we call it that here?) every two weeks or so. My primary goal - as a teacher, writer, and now “substacker” (do we…?), is always to help you to spark your own ideas, not necessarily simply to convey my own. As I ask my students after every class, “What is your primary takeaway?”
As with my podcast, blog, and database of ancient inscriptions (check it out!), everything is free. My calling is as a teacher. I am supported by a non-profit university, have been fortunate (and lucky) enough to have received several grants, and I am privileged to have the time to be able to do this. My ideas are yours (although it would be nice to give me credit if you use them). Of course, if you wish to support this endeavor and my other public-facing activities, you are most welcome to do so. The Paypal button is at my blog, which I will continue to maintain.
Enough preliminaries. The next post will have more substance, and then let the fun begin.
I am new to substack but have followed your podcasts and books. You and Henry Abramson are my "go to" experts on Jewish history. For the last month or so, I have been trying to figure out who the "endogenous" people of Palestine might be. How about the Neanderthals? I look forward to your posts! Thanks, from a fellow academic (molecular biology).