Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Parashat Kee-Teessa


This week’s portion – Kee Teessa (literally, “when you take [the number of]”) – contains two of the most important, celebrated, and noted stories of all of Jewish history. The first is the story of the Golden Calf, perhaps one of the best illustrations of the complicated relationship between God and the People He has chosen. The second is Moshe’s exceptional dialogue with his God – perhaps the most fascinating conversation ever recorded between a human and God.

Today I will present both the conventional wisdom relating to these two stories, which are seemingly disconnected, and another view, offering a possible – though controversial – connection between the two.

I. The Golden Calf and Notion of True Holiness

In the past two weeks we touched briefly on the notion of “holiness” in Judaism, in particular as it is often erroneously ascribed to earthly possessions – such as buildings, places, and other man-made artifacts – rather than, as it should be ascribed, only to God Himself. This week, Moshe – who perhaps understands this notion better than anyone before or since as he often speaks to God face-to-face (as we shall see shortly) – brings it to a whole new level in a very dramatic and memorable fashion.

Coming down from the Mountain after being with God for over 40 days, stone tablets in hand, Moshe does not hesitate to break those very tablets at the sight of his own people dancing before a golden calf: “As soon as Moshe came near the camp and saw the calf and the dancing, he became enraged; and he hurled the tablets from his hands and shattered them at the foot of the mountain.” (Ex. 32:19).

Now it is worth repeating that those two tables were no ordinary stone blocks; rather, they were inscribed with God’s writing. Indeed, the text takes pains in explaining that “the tablets were the product of God’s work, and the writing was God’s writing inscribed unto the tablets.” (Ex. 32:16) In other words, nothing could be “holier” than these two tablets, which were specifically made, inscribed, and designed by God Himself. (Thought experiment: Imagine the tablets are found today, safe and sound, in the sands of the Sinai Desert. Could one even imagine the repercussions of the mere suggestion to break them, made by any religious leader?)

Yet Moshe never hesitates to shatter these same tablets. How could that be? How can the greatest believer of all time refuse to acknowledge the “holiness” or “sanctity” of these tablets? The answer is simple: Moshe knew full well that without faith, without obedience, without acceptance, the two stone tablets he is holding are just that – merely two desert-stone tablets.  So he breaks them.  He breaks the holiest of holy objects, for there is no holiness without a context of faith.  Since he realizes that holiness lies only at the heart of people, he also realizes that when it is no longer there – when people stop believing in God – not even God Himself can save them. 

As we have already read, more than 3,000 years later, one of America’s greatest judges, Judge Learned Hand (what a wonderful name for a Judge!), expressed this very same idea in relation to liberty: “Liberty lies in the hearts of men and women; when it dies there, no constitution, no law, no court can save it; no constitution, no law, no court can even do much to help it.”

The story of the Golden Calf, to be sure, is considered one of the greatest sins towards God ever committed by the People of Israel. In fact, one commentator went so far as comparing the act of building this idol under the very Mountain of God to that of “a bride who is has committed adultery inside her Chuppa [i.e., under her wedding canopy, during her nuptials]. Further, the act of sinning against God also led to the first-ever documented civil war (or civil massacre, more accurately), which occurred following Moshe’s instruction to the Levites: “Put your swords on your thighs, and pass along and back from one gate to another in our camp, and you shall kill – your brothers, your friends, and your family members.” (Ex. 32:27) Indeed, the Levites killed more than 3,000 of their brethren, without the slightest hesitation.  To complete the punishment – for those who stayed alive – Moshe burned the statue of the calf, ground it to powder, spread it over the water and made the survivors drink it – ashes and all. (Ex. 32:20). 

This set of punishments – mass killing, admonishment, and forced-drinking – seems quite harsh, even for such a sin, especially if one were to take into account the “mitigating circumstances” involved:  First, the People of Israel were genuinely concerned about Moshe’s  whereabouts; indeed, most thought he simply disappeared, as the person who led them every single day and was visible to them at all hours of the day was simply not seen for days, then weeks, even a month. (cf Ex. 24:18 and 32:1) Second, and perhaps most importantly, by creating the statue they – or at least one may argue that they – did not want to remove themselves from God, but quite the opposite – to get closer: “And [the People of Israel] have said [after the calf was completed]: This is the Lord of Israel, who has brought us out of the land of Egypt” (Ex. 32:4). In other words, one may argue that they didn’t mean to replace their God, just to actualize Him – an “all-too-human” trait (as Nietzsche might have described it).

But Moshe would have none of that; he is interested in neither mitigating factors nor in hearing other explanations. In fact, as we shall see later in the story of Korah, Moshe, as a leader, despises the very notion of organized opposition. [Not unlike the Founding Fathers of this nation, by the way.] Indeed, the act of killing 3,000 members of this newly formed band of people was supposed to deliver that message clearly; when it didn’t, Moshe made the earth itself “open its mouth” and “swallow” the opposition.  More on that in the coming weeks.

II. Moshe’s Incredible Dialogue with God   

Completely exhausted, both physically and mentally, after the ordering of killing 3,000 men of his own People, Moshe then turns to the only entity he can trust – God Himself. He seeks reassurance and moral support. And God does not let him down.  In one of the most fascinating descriptions ever to appear in writing, the text reports:

And the Lord spoke to Moshe face to face, as one person speaks to another.” (Ex. 33:11)

But for Moshe at this time, even this amazing chain of events is not enough. He wants more. In one of the earliest revelations of Jewish chutzpa, Moshe dares to ask God for the ultimate prize:

“And he [Moshe] said:  Please let me see Your glory . . . . And God said: You will not be able to see My face, as no man may see Me and still live.” (Ex. 33:18-20). 

And so God proposes a “compromise,” which cannot be properly translated, unfortunately. Loosely explained, the text continues to say: “And God said [to Moshe]: Here is a place of My choosing; and you shall stand on the edge of the cliff; and as my Presence passes by, I shall put you in the cleft of that cliff; and I shall cover over you with My own hand until I have completely passed you; and then I shall take off my hand, and you shall see My rear end, as My face shall not be seen.” (Ex. 33:21-23)

This description is nothing short of astonishing: it is the most human description of God’s figure ever to appear in writing – a description that is seemingly completely at odds with Maimonides’ notion of “no form, no shape, no title” of God. Moreover, this extremely difficult to explain passage is disturbing in a much deeper sense. Let us try to recall the context in which we are: Moshe has just ordered the killing of 3,000 of his own people. The reason for this order was a sin they committed against God: Their undying desire to actualize God, rather than to continue adhering to the transcendental notion according to which God can no longer be seen, heard, or touched. Indeed for those people – an assortment of former slaves who have been walking in the desert for months, and now are without a leader for nearly 40 days – the idea of believing in a God that has no form, no substance, and no attributes may have been simply too much to swallow.  All they wanted was something they can see, feel, and touch. And for that they were punished. And severely so. 

But what about Moshe himself? How exactly is his request from God – to actually see Him – that different from his People’s? True, Moshe never built an image of God, and thus did not violate the first, second, and third Commandments as the People had done. But I am sure that were the People in direct and continuous communication with God the same way Moshe has been, they would have no need to actually build an image of Him, but rather simply ask God to show Himself – and that is exactly what Moshe did.

I am not suggesting that Moshe should have been punished in the same way his People were. But I do suggest that a better understanding of the great sin of the Golden Calf, alongside Moshe’s own actions immediately thereafter, would allow us a better view of the actions taken thousands of years ago in the heat of the desert sun. 

And the lesson for today?  I am not sure; but perhaps I may offer a close analogy. It is not uncommon for today’s religious leaders (of all stripes) to save their fiercest critique – and harshest words – to “sins” of others that, alas, they too are very likely to commit, if not already have committed in person.  Accordingly, the next time you hear someone of religious authority ordering you “not to ever, ever, even think of doing something of that sort,” rest assured they have already done so …

Shabbat Shalom,

Doron                

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