I wanted to thank all of you for a wonderful experience. My good friend Sho, both a student and a mentor, had asked - perhaps instructed -- me to write a farewell note on my blog. And so I do it now.
Reflecting every week on the most sacred and unique of all texts of was a truly labor of love. Indeed, it provides one with an unparalleled sense of freedom and intellectual happiness to roam free through the lines of the Torah, to raise new questions about it, and to try and settle old ones.
The ideas I promoted - mostly about the the Torah being mainly a book of faith (Emunah) -- are not mine to claim. I was merely serving as a mouthpiece to Professor Yesha'ay'hu Leibowitz who, in turn, claimed to have been a mere mouthpiece of the Rambam, more than 800 years before his time. Still, these same ideas are as fresh today here in American as they were in the 12th Centry in Egyptian Alexandria.
Again, I wanted to thank you all for partaking in this wonderful journey. If I have prompted even one of you to begin -- or return to -- reading the portions of the week, I've done my share.
Ve'idach Zeel Gmore (and the rest - go and study yourself).
Shana Tovah to Everyone,
Doron
Portion of the Week - Notes
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
Parashat Be'ha'a'lot'cha
This week’s portion, Be’ha’a’lot’cha – literally, “when you
raise” (here in the unusual use of “when you raise the candles against the
Menorah”) – provides us with a rare opportunity to discuss a fascinating topic:
What was it really like to travel in the desert for forty years?
Welcome to this week’s portion. Everything you want to know is
in here - from “when they went” to “what they ate” and much more. Accordingly, instead
of using my regular method of two comments on the portion, I resort to the more
interesting format of an imaginary Q&A between a reader and the story
teller. For readers who are interested in a less-religious commentary, I also
offer one at the end of each answer.
Life in the Desert: Frequently Asked Questions
Q: Did they actually travel every day?
A: No, the traveling was not performed on a daily basis. The
organizing principle, of course was the following: “According to God the People
of Israel would go, and according to God they shall make camp.” (Numbers 9:18;
and again, 9:23). Accordingly, they first parked, for nearly a full year, near
Mt. Sinai. (Num. 10:11). After that, they followed the divine cloud: whenever
it rested over Ohel Mo’ed, the holy tent in which the Mishkan resides, they
rested; and whenever it lifted, they traveled. At times, the cloud rested for
days, even “many days,” while at other times it rested for shorter periods
(Id., 9:17-20). In other times, the travel was done daily as the “cloud [rested]
from evening until the morning, and was lifted during the day, and then they
traveled.” (Id., 9:21). In some cases, however, the Israelites traveled at
night as well. In other cases, they walked for three days straight.
Non Religious Explanation: Life in the desert is
tough. Different terrain, changing
weather, and continuing issues with this enormously large traveling group (over
600,000 grown up men) require flexibility in moving arrangements. A good
pattern is to move every day, and to rest during the night, but that pattern
has to yield to the various needs and objective requirements. Hence the
frequent variations.
Q: Was there a special order of traveling?
A: Yes. First in the group was the tribe of Judah, with
their military commander (Nachshon – a name and title that, until today,
signals (in Hebrew) “he who dares to stand in front” – usually in the military
context, such the he or she is ready to run first to battle, even in the face
of enemy fire). Then two other tribes (Yissaschar and Zvuloun), with their
commanders. Then the Mishkan - always in
front, but never exposed. Then the tribes of Re’uven, Shimon, and Gad. Then,
separately from the Mishkan, the Kahaties – those in charge of actually
erecting and dismantling the Mishkan each time the People made camp. Then the other tribes. And then, at the very
end – as sweep – the tribe of Dan and its commander. (Num. 10:11-28)
NRE: Clearly, considerations of safety and utility
played an important role in devising the correct order of travel. Thus, back
then (much like today), the strongest part of the army was always in the lead;
this has been a winning strategy for the Israelis since those days and until
today. The strategic placement of the Mishkan – at the top of the group, but
not the very top, as well as the separation between the Mishkan and its workers,
all guarantee a smooth operation and quick set-up and breakdown. Another great
example of Moshe’s superior organizational skills at work.
Q: What did they eat?
A: Despite the widely-spread myth about the plentiful “Manna
from Heaven” and how well it was received, the Israelites never hesitated to
complain about the narrow selection and its uniformed taste (nothing new here,
either). This week, their complaint is
especially detailed (and visual, I may add): “[And the People] cried and said: Who would provide us with meat? We all well
remember the sea-food that we have eaten in Egypt for free, and the squash, the
water melons, the leek, the onions, and the garlic; and now our soles are dried
– there is nothing but the Manna in front of our eyes.” (Numbers 11:5-6). In response, occasionally, Moshe would
provide some other culinary choices, such as meat. But that, in turn, would
create some issues of its own – widespread food poisoning, for example, or other
issues. (See Numbers 11:33-34).
NRE: Constant (purified) water and food supplies are
by far the hardest part of the entire exodus operation. The great thing about
the Manna was its freshness – every day the people would only get enough for
the next day (except for Shabbat, when they collected for the entire weekend in
advance). Those who dared to collect more were severely punished – sometimes by
God, sometimes by a severe food poisoning. Every deviation from this strict
diet had its consequences, but Moshe had to balance between his limited
resources and the People’s complaints – so he provided them meat (and other
options) every now and again, only to prove them, once again, that the Manna is
really the only thing to come straight from Heaven.
Q: Was Moshe the only person in charge?
A: We know, from many portions ago (Yitro, Exodus 18:18),
that Moshe could not handle his judicial power obligations all on his
own. Thus, his father-in-law provided him with an advice to devise a
well-structured legal system based on himself as the entire Supreme Court and
other adequate people (see the post there) as judges below him. But today, we
learn that his executive powers, too, were hard to handle over a group
of such size, and for that long a duration. After pleading with God (See Num.
11:12 for a wonderful text: “Did I conceive this entire People?”), Moshe
receives assistance in the form of 70 elderly wise men who help him in carrying
his executive mission. Later, this number would form the basis for the famous
Sanhedrin, a joint legislative-executive body of the small Jewish community in
Israel. (Note that despite his hardships in the Article II and III issues –
executive and judiciary branches – Moshe leaves to God (and himself, by
delegation) the sole authority of legislation.)
NRE: Clearly, the model of a single leader as the
only legislator, executive, and judge is unattainable; but it is interesting to
note that the request for help comes from Moshe himself – not from the people
(who don’t seem to mind) or from God (who is apparently content with channeling
all three branches to one person). Empirically speaking, it seems, the
separation of powers is not only a wise poly-sci choice (just ask Motesquieu
and then the Founding Fathers, who read him closely), but also a necessary fact
of life.
Q: What about the Occasional Catastrophe?
A: This week’s portion alone tells us the story of three
emergencies/mini-catastrophes: First, a fire consumes part of the camp (Num.
11:1-3); second, as we noted earlier, a food poisoning leaves several
casualties behind (Num. 11:33-34); and finally, a mysterious skin condition
afflicts Miriam, Moshe’s sister, perhaps in response to a bizarre derogatory
comment she made in relation to her sister-in-law, Moshe’s black-skinned wife.
(Num. 12:1, 10) All these – and naturally,
many others – are issues Moshe had to contend with on a daily basis, with the
help of God, of course.
NRE: I believe these incidents, deliberately reported
and included in the text forever, are only the tip of the iceberg in terms of
what Moshe had to deal with on a daily basis. With no medical facilities (or
much knowledge, for that matter), no sanitation, harsh conditions, and a huge
group of people who were never used to long-term camping, those occasional
catastrophes were probably part and parcel of the 40-year desert expedition.
The fact that Moshe successfully brought all of them to the Promised Land is a
true testament to his fantastic leadership skills – not only from the religious
perspective, but also – and perhaps primarily – from the pragmatic, day-to-day
leadership perspective. Not for naught does this portion concludes with the
following compliment: “And the person
Moshe is very humble – more than any other person on earth.” Indeed, we had a very
humble leader then. I wish we had some more like him today as well.
Shabbat Shalom.
Doron
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Parashat Nasso
This week’s portion, Nasso – literally, an order to count
(as in “go and count the people of Israel”) – is the longest of all portions of
the week. Then again, it is also a great example of the rule that quantity does
not necessarily yield quality. But enough about me.
The portion’s main issue – other than the continuing last
week’s discussion of the census and its importance (see last week’s post) – is
infidelity. More accurately, a married
woman’s alleged infidelity and its consequences. In looking at this issue I
will venture, almost for the first time in this blog, to the very muddy waters
(more in a second on this choice of words) of the Torah’s view of women. While
aware of how dangerous this terrain may be, I would still like to offer my two
cents. I begin with what – thankfully – has by now become a standard criticism
of the text. I then move to suggest a
surprising twist, a possible justification for the seemingly humiliating
ancient practice described in the text. I conclude with some general thoughts
of the text and its relation to women.
I. The Water of Bitterness
To summarize – while strongly recommending that you read the
entire passage (Numbers 5:11-31) – this week’s portion deals with adultery;
more specifically, with a proposed solution to a situation where a woman has
committed adultery, or, more accurately is alleged to have committed
adultery (since no witnesses are available). The proposed solution, in a
nutshell, is a test; it is the test of the “water of bitterness:” Here, the alleged
adulterous woman has to drink some extremely bitter water. Should she
(physically) respond well to it – she’s safe; if she’s ill (as most people
would be), then she’s guilty of being unfaithful to her husband.
At first glance, the entire ceremony of the “the water of
bitterness and curse” may be viewed as a typical (and unfavorable) biblical
treatment of women. To begin with, the text does not even mention, let
alone discusses, a situation in which the husband – not the wife – is suspected
of cheating while the wife is “fraught with jealousy” (as the husband is
described). Not here. Instead, all we have is a situation where the wife is
suspected of being disloyal to her husband, to “have gone astray and broken
faith” with another man (elegant, creative translation by JPS here) (Numbers
5:12). What would a husband to do in
this situation?
According to this week’s portion, the husband has to go to
the priest - the religious authority (which, coincidently, comprises of all men
– then and now, more than 2,000 years later). In a description reminiscent of
the later “Salem witchcraft trials” and the famous “drowning test” –if the
accused woman has drowned, she was innocent, but had she lived she was guilty
of witchcraft – the text goes in great detail through what the poor suspected
woman has to go through:
“And the priest made the woman stand
before God, making her hair undone, and then he gave unto her hands [holy water
(mixed with) the soil of the Tabernacle…
this water shall be known as] … the bitter, cursing water. And the Priest swore that woman in, and told
her: If no man has slept with you, and if you have not gone sinfully astray
under you man, you shall be cleared by this water of bitterness and curse . . .
[but if not,] your stomach would distend and your thighs will sag . . . and the
woman would say: Amen and Amen.” (The full description, which is heavily
edited here, may be found in Numbers 5:16-31).
Importantly, the text provides a nice alternative to the
likely physical response the woman may have to the bitter water: if her stomach
would not “distend,” then the suspected woman would be cleared of all
suspicion, declared as “pure,” and even be “planted a seed” (become pregnant)
(Numbers 5:28). [Loyal readers of this blog may look back at the discussion we
had on the first verse of Parashat Tazri’a (Levit. 12:1), where, again, our
sages has shown clear preference against naming a portion “A Woman”;
there, too, the verse deals with the planted seed in the woman’ womb.]
While the text provides no data, one may only venture to
guess how many poor women could actually survive the test – which their
husbands, again, had no need to take under similar circumstances – and be
declared “pure.” To reiterate, this ritual is not dealing with the case
of well-proved infidelity cases. Rather, we are dealing here with mere
suspicions, rumors, and innuendoes; all we have in fact is “the wind of
jealousy” by the husbands.
When I first read this text, I was appalled. To me, it
represented everything that was wrong with the Torah’s treatment of women. It
reminded me of my first class of Jewish Law in my final year at the Hebrew
University Law School. By then, we were no longer viewing our professors with
the same awe and revere that were the staple of our first year. So when the Instructor opened the class by
announcing that the Israeli Law of Equality of Women’s Rights – a mainly
declaratory, though still important, act of legislation passed by Israeli
Knesset very early in the life of the Jewish State – that this Act has “violated
a delicate balance struck over thousands of years by Jewish sages with regards
to women’s rights” I could no longer remain silent. “It is quite the
opposite” – I told the instructor, shortly before leaving the class for good –
“The State of Israel has corrected an imbalance that lasted through
thousands of years with regards to the rights of Jewish women, due mostly to
sages of Jewish thought who intentionally and creatively discriminated against
women.”
That is precisely how I felt when I read the text
initially.
II. Later Developments – in Halacha and Within Me
In part, it seems that my sense of reprehension was at least
justified in part. During the Mishna period, the “Water of Bitterness” test was
abolished. (3 Mishna, Sotah, Chapter 9 mishna 9). The reason behind this surprising turn may be more telling than
the actual act of abolition itself: “Mi’she’rabu Ha’me’na’a’fim” – when cases
of infidelities became so many, too many in fact, there was no longer need for
the test. In other words, the deterring
effect of the test was lost in the “sea” of infidelity. But a careful reading
of the text shows an even more interesting feature: The Mishna does not say:
“Mi’she’rabu Ha’me’na’a’fot” – when the women infidelity cases became
too many; but rather “when the infidelity cases [by all!] became too
many” then the test was abolished. Here we have an initial recognition – very
implicit, very hesitant, almost secret – in the fact that perhaps the initial
test was wrong, as it applied to women alone. Perhaps not only women should
have been accused of such an act. Perhaps men, too, are fallible.
But not only have our sages changed their mind. I did, too.
I came to view the test in a different light. I realized that – at the time,
and within that context – women required a great degree of protection from
their jealous husbands. In fact, in
some instances these women were in a state of “clear and present danger” to
their very lives, just by virtue of being suspected of committing
adultery. (Hmm… Is that really so different today in some parts?) And that by
providing the test – horrible as it may seem to us today – the Jewish religion
has stepped forward to end this situation and to protect those women (clearly
in a manner less than satisfactory, but still). To be more specific, the notion that a priest – the prime
religious authority – may absolve a woman of that cloud, in a final manner and
with the blessings of God, is a huge step towards the protection of
women’s right. [Moreover, as I was pouring some sugar into my baby son’s bitter
medicine – he was sick this week – I was thinking that maybe some thoughtful
Priests pored some sugar into those bitter waters back then, to make it easier
on the women.]
Again, I don’t know if any of this is true. I don’t know how
many women, if any, were absolved by this test. But the very option granted by
our religion to clear a woman from any unfaithful suspicion – with the
authority of God, no less – should, in my mind, be looked upon favorably, even
if the actual means used to effectuate this thought were inhumane by today’s
standards. At least for that thought, the Torah’s text should be absolved.
Shabbat Shalom,
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Parashat Ba'Midbar
This week’s portion, Ba’Midbar (literally, in the desert)
opens the penultimate book of the Pentateuch. It begins with an interestingly
accurate time stamp – God speaks to Moses on the first day, of the second
month, of the second year from the day they left Egypt – in other words, one
year and one month, to the day, after the famous Exodus.
And what concerns God on that day? The exact number – or
“Numbers” as the book is entitled in English – of the People of Israel. In other words, God orders a census. And
that brings me to a point I began talking about last week – that very little
had changed between then and now.
The Census – Then & Now
Two years ago, in 2010 – much like during any other “decade”
year – the federal government has held a census of the People of the United
States, in accordance with federal law.
To me, this latest census is strikingly similar to the first census ever
taken – the one we read about this week in our Portion. Allow me to demonstrate.
i.
The term “People”; their exact number
God orders Moshe to count the number of “people” of the
Children of Israel. What does the term “people” encompass? Does it entail all
people, men and women, adult and children, slaves and slaves owners? Not quite.
The original biblical text refers to the term “people” as including only males
(as opposed to males and females); over 20 years of age (as opposed to people
of all ages); and who could bear arms (see Numbers 1:3). The original
American Constitution’s notion of “person” was equally exclusive: In the period
close to ratification, the constitutional term of “persons” was interpret to
include only males (and not females); only “free” persons (as opposed to
slaves); and mostly property and land owners (which excluded minors as well).
The number of those “people,” according to the biblical
census, was precisely 603,550 (see Numbers 2:32). This number is strikingly similar to the
approximated number of people who left Egypt, according to the text, just a
year earlier: “approximately 600,000 men, notwithstanding children.” (Exodus
12:37).
While this number is not similar in any way to the 310
million or so Americans living in the U.S. today, it certainly is identical to
the number of people who conducted the census in America in that year;
see, for example, a not from the Census’ Director: “A Note to my 600,000 New
Colleagues.” (available at http://blogs.census.gov/2010census/
).
ii.
The Census’ Method
Today, just like the first biblical Census, the actual
method of counting is based upon divisions. The entire group is divided into
sections, or districts; those districts are divided further into lots; and
those – into families. Each person conducting the count adds up to the grand
total, which is received after accumulating a large group of data (in the U.S.,
a data gathered by 600,000 counters). The biblical text dedicates nearly an
entire chapter – 46 verses, to be exact – to the accumulated data that led to
the grand total; from which we may deduce the great importance accorded by the
text to the census’ method (see Numbers 1:1-46). Indeed, it seems that
the very method by which the census is conducted today is not very different,
if at all, from the one used by the original biblical census. This is probably
one of the very few things that we do today precisely the way they were
conducted thousands of years ago (and with the same amount of success, I may
add).
iii.
The reason for conducting a census
Why a census? Today, we are all aware of the “formal”
reasons – a proper allocation of federal grants and budget in a manner that is
proportional (or number-dependent) to the amount of people in each state.
Indeed, the census determines, to a large extent, the amount of dollars each
state would receive to fund its education, police, infrastructure, and, in
fact, almost anything that receives federal support. In addition, there are
several other reasons why the census is important today (see “Why [The
Census] Is Important?” http://2010.census.gov/2010census/why/index.php
).
Yet part of the reason so many people try to evade the
census’ pollsters (and part of the reason the federal government had to recruit
600,000 strong to do the job) is that they fear additional knowledge would
provide the government with additional power – too much power, perhaps – than
needed in order to govern over its citizens. There’s a strong sense among some
of the citizens that governmental knowledge equals governmental power, and
absolutely accurate knowledge may lead to absolutely directed power. I would
not like to dwell into this weak version of conspiracy theory, (“weak,” counter
intuitively, because it does have some factual basis), but I would love to
leave it to you to draw the proper analogy with the ancient ultimate pollster
entity – and the reason why He was interested in the exact number.
The Prophecy: Hypothetical, Not Actual
From the census – a scientific, data-oriented, fact-based,
empirical experiment – we move this week into the world of moral philosophy –
the untested, hypothetical, purposively inaccurate realm of biblical prophecy.
This week’s Haphtarah – Hoshe’a 2:1 – begins with a
statement that is quite contradictory to the subject-matter of this week’s
portion: “And the number of the People of Israel has been like the sand of the
sea, which cannot be measured or counted . . . [but God told them:] You are the
children of the living God.” I will not dwell here on the heavier conundrum
posed by the text – why would God have to wait until the Jewish People reached
that nearly infinite number in order to break the good news to them (that they
are the children of a living God), but instead concentrate on a much more
mundane question: Why does the actual
portion text take so much pains to reach an accurate number, while the
Haftara’s “prophecy version” insists on a number that is neither countable nor
measurable?
The answer to this seemingly trivial question is actually
quite profound, and stands at the heart of truly understanding the notion of
Jewish prophecy. And this true understanding can be summarized in the wonderful
phrase – appearing originally in the Tosaphot (Yevamot 50, 71) and invoked
countless times by Leibowitz – that “the prophet engage in prophecy only for the
matters that are ought to happen.” In other words, prophecy is not intended
to describe the situation “as is” (descriptive), but rather intended to encourage
certain desirable patterns of behavior (prescriptive). It tells us, in other
words, in which direction we should go, not in which direction we are
actually going.
Indeed, for thousands of years many of the prophecies
written into the text did not come true – in fact, many have proved wrong over
the years. But rather than seeing that as evidence of incompetence on the side
of the prophets, those unsubstantiated prophecies should only serve as evidence
of our own incompetence – of our own inability to live up to the prophets’
ideals. Still, those ideals are for us to reach, and they may always be there.
And that, to a large extent, is the difference between the actual (census) and
the hypothetical (prophecy).
Shabbat Shalom,
Doron
Friday, May 18, 2012
Parashat Be'Har - Be'Chu'ko'tai
This week’s two portions – Be’har
(literally, “at the mountain”), and Be’Chuku’tai (literally, “in my laws”) –
mark the end of the third book of the Torah, the book of Leviticus. Among others, these portions contain the
famous laws of “shmi’ta” – the innovative idea that every seventh year the land
itself has to rest, just like we humans who own it do every seventh day. They also contain other, more familiar
religious laws such as the prohibition on creating idols (Levit. 26:1), the
decree to keep the Shabat (26:2), and others.
And at the end of the Chapter 26
we find this dramatic concluding remark: “These are the statutes, laws, and
doctrines that God provided between Himself and the Israelite People at Mount
Sinai at the hand of Moshe.”
(26:46)
But other than those well-established rules, this week’s
portions also discuss two very interesting concepts that are often less
discussed in Judaism – that of business cycles and that of negative incentives
for inappropriate behavior. To me, both
demonstrate, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that very little has changed between
the time the Torah was written and today. I will dedicate a very short
discussion to each.
On Business Cycles and Old
Recessions
The modern theory of business
cycle – the notion that markets operate in stages, notably four: (1) expansion;
(2) crisis; (3) recession; and (iv) recovery – was only developed in the
twentieth century by pioneer economists like Joseph Schumpeter. Yet the idea that economic activity operate
in waves, and that sometimes people find themselves on top and sometimes on the
bottom of economic success, is as old as the idea of market itself.
This week’s portion is famous for
its detail discussion of the laws of Sh’meeta, which I mentioned earlier – the
careful consideration given to the soil, the main production resource of the
time. In a limited sense, this too can be seen as a part of the notion of
business cycle – here, the land must “rest” every seven years, and then begin
again. To me, however, the more interesting part of the portion relates to the
very detailed account of the rules that should apply when members of the
community fall on hard economic times. For example, what is the law when your
relative was forced to sell a part of their land, as he no longer can hold on
to it? When a member of the community had to sell his lucrative residence
located behind the protective walls of the city (the then-Upper East Side,
perhaps) and to move to live outside the protective bounds of town? What
happens to when out-of-protective-town homes are sold, as the owners can pay
the mortgage? What happens when your relative losses his job and cannot make
do? And so on and so forth. (Levit. 25:25-55) I hope that by now, some – if not
all – of this sounds very familiar. An accurate description of the “biblical
housing bubble,” if you will.
Though the laws themselves are
fascinating – providing, in essence, a model for market-created social safety
net, including the (now famous) restriction on usury loans – I am more
interested here in the very phenomenon of people who fell on hard economic
times and how society should treat them (according to Judaism). This, to me,
shows not only that a community-based approach and notions of shared
responsibility were envisioned well before the Great Depression or the current
economic crisis, but that the Jewish religion saw it as a moral and legal
obligation to treat those people with dignity and fairness, and to provide them
with hope for better economic times.
The message here is simple: You have to treat those people well today,
because tomorrow you might be the one in need of that kind of help. The
debate today over the creation of a new consumer protection agency, as well as
the idea of “private” bail-out – a direct government assistance to people in
need – are but a faint echo of this comprehensive set of laws created over two thousand years ago to properly deal with
the notion of business cycles and their effect. Once again, we can be proud of
our wise sages (or God, or both) who identified a social issue and created a
comprehensive way of dealing with it.
The
“Sh’ma” and Sanctions for Bad Behavior
While business cycles are
entirely a secular phenomenon – no God is involved in either their
creation or the solution provided (with the proviso, of course, that everything
is done in His command) – the next issue is anything but.
The Sh’ma – “Sh’ma Israel, Adonai
Eloheinu, Adonai Echad” – is by far the most famous of Jewish texts. It consists of two parts, as Yeshayahu
Leibowitz explains in length (also in English, see The Reading of Shema in
Judaism, Human Values, and the Jewish State 37 (Harvard 1992)). The
first part of the Sh’ma, which is presented as an absolute demand (or as
a Kantian categorical imperative, for those who are interested in modern
philosophy), requires every Jewish person to love the Lord our God with all
their heart, all their soul, and all their might. (And Rabbi Akiva added: “with
all thy soul – meaning that even when they come to take away your soul (i.e.,
to kill you) – you should still love Him.”)
I would not dwell here on the
beautiful issue of why the word love was chosen to portray the desired –
nay, decreed(!) – relationship between the person of faith and God. I would
just suggest that love is the greatest human feeling of all, the strongest, the
most expressive, and thus no other human emotion could be chosen for the task.
The second part of the She’ma is
framed as a conditional demand (or, in Kantian terms, a conditional
imperative). It begins with the words “And if you shall hear [Me],” and
promises a set of rewards for those who would follow the ways of the Jewish
Lord. Leibowitz dwells here on the
notion of “Lishma” and “Lo Lishma” (a faith for its own sake, which is
the one mentioned in the first part, and a lesser, though much more prevalent,
form of faith, to gain a reward, appearing in the second) – an issue I
dealt with in previous posts. But for my purposes today, I would like to remark
on what is missing from the Sh’ma.
The two sections (I omit here the third part of the Sh’ma, dealing with
the Ts’tsit) describe no sanction, no punishment, no negative reward for the
person who chooses not to follow the ways of God.
That part is supplied by today’s portion. And
in droves.
The portion of “Be’Chukutai” begins with the
now-familiar text of “If you shall follow my laws, and keep my decrees . . .
then I shall provide your rain in time (etc., etc.)” – much like the second
part of the Sh’ma. But then the text moves onto a third part that does not appear in the
Sh’ma:
"But if you shall not listen to me, and shall not follow my
decrees, and if you reject my rules and despise my laws . . . then I shall do
the following onto you:" And here the text provides a parade of
horribles, including plagues, wars lost, becoming slaves to enemy armies, a
land refusing to give fruit, the death of domestic animals, and so on and so
forth, including being forced to eat the very flesh of your own descendants.
(Levit. 26:29).
To me, that shows – once again – that not much has changed since the
time the text was written. Yes, it is very nice to discuss categorical
imperatives – doing things because they are right in and of themselves; or even
to do something for anticipation of reaping the rewards – such as “if you will
follow my laws, all the best will happen to you.” (As the second part of the
Sh’ma is phrased). But at the end of the day, human nature is such that nothing
would happen unless and until meaningful sanctions are put in place. And those
sanctions, to be sure, must be such that would deter someone from doing the
act. Serious, big sanctions (and in this case, perhaps even cruel and
unusual sanctions) should be put in place in order to deter unwanted behavior.
And this is the role (well) played by the portion read this week.
I would like to leave
you with the following question, however: If this section is so important, so
vital, so crucial to human behavior, why was it left outside the Sh’ma itself?
Put differently, If you were sitting today in the Sanhedrin’s Knesset G’dolah
(a religious legislative body that ceased to exist, but that had all the
required authority to change the law) would you reintroduce this part of the
text into the Sh'ma? Let me know your thoughts.
Shabbat Shalom,
Doron
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Parashat Emor
This week’s portion, Emor – literally, “tell” as in “tell
all the priests to…” – is very unique, both to me personally and to every
thinking Jewish person more generally. It is personally unique to me as this is
my “bar Mitzvah” portion. It is (or
should be) unique to every thinking Jewish person as it fully represents the
stark contrast between the ancient written Torah text and the more current
Halachic custom. I will shortly elaborate on each of these points in my notes
today.
Text vs. Halacha: When Is Rosh Ha’Shana?
Suppose you had to pick just one portion that would include
as many Jewish holidays as possible. Emor would easily be a top choice. This
portion is practically a “Lonely Planet Guide to Jewish Holidays.” Beginning
with the somewhat dramatic statement: These are the Holidays of the Lord –
Readings of holiness that you shall read in their due course” (Levit.
23:4), the portion goes on to describe in great detail each of the major
holidays: Passover (23:5-8); The counting of the Omer (of which we are
currently in the midst) (23:15-22); Rosh Ha’Shana (23:23-25); Yom Kippur
(23:26-32); and Sukkot (23:33-44).
I will not go here through the intricate details of each of
these Torah-mandated holidays. What is important to me today are the dates:
Passover, according to the explicit text, is to be celebrated “on the first
month at the fourteenth day of the month.” But Passover is not
celebrated today on the first month – Tishrei; it is rather celebrated on the
month of Nissan, the seventh month of the year.
Conversely, Yom Kippur, is celebrated today on the tenth day
of Tishrei – the very first month of the current Jewish calendar; but according
to the explicit text it is to be celebrated “on the tenth day of the Seventh
month.” More importantly, between these two important holidays lies yet
another holiday, in the beginning of that seventh month, in which the
text requires us to cease all work.
Today this holiday is called “Rosh Ha’Shana” – the beginning of the year
(or, more simply, “New Year’s”) – a name, by the way, that can be found nowhere
in our portion (or anywhere else in the bible, for that matter).
But how can we celebrate the beginning of the year on the seventh
month? In particular, how can the year begin not in the first month as
is specifically prescribed by the text itself? Have we been wrong all these
years? Should we move Rosh Ha’Shana to Passover?
In a way – a textual way – we have been wrong. The term Rosh Ha’Shana (New Year’s) does not
appear in the text. The holiday – which today marks the beginning of the Jewish
year – is not designated as such by the text. Moreover, the first month of the
year is not up in the air. According to the text, the month in which the
Israelites left Egypt – Nissan, the month of Passover (of course) – is the
first month of the year. So what is going on here?
Halacha O’keret Mikra – the Halacha overrides the biblical
text – is the principle used to explain these (and many other) discrepancies.
This week marks one of the most explicit cases where the customs devised by our
sages stand in stark contrast to the biblical text itself. Today, we receive
these Halachic commands, first iterated by the Mishna, as a binding (Jewish)
law. But you don’t have to be Justice
Scalia – who can’t stand a law that has no strong textual basis – in order to
pose a penetrating question: What is the basis of that? Who are those sages –
and who appointed them – to overrule (or override) an explicit biblical text?
I am not able to answer these questions here. I am, however,
able to suggest that an acceptance of such Halachic override may have
far-reaching consequences both in terms of understanding what are the real
sources of Jewish law, and, more profoundly, what does it mean to accept the
“yoke of Torah and Mitzvot” – to accept Jewish law as a person of faith. More on that in future posts.
My Bar-Mitzvah’s Haftarah
It has been long ago – way too long, over three decades –
since I stood in the then-new synagogue next to my parents’ home in Ramat Aviv
(a small Tel-Aviv suburb), very nervous and anxious, preparing to read aloud my
first (and so far only) public Haftara.
We just welcomed, four months earlier, a wonderful addition to our
family – my younger brother Uri; I was so proud to carry him on my arms to shul
for the first time. I will never know how I really did that day (in terms of
proper reading). Everyone, of course, sang my praises, telling me I did great.
Then again, what would you tell a young Bar-Mitzvah boy who just finished his
readings (for which he prepared over several months)? That he did horribly?
That he was barely understood, or almost not heard? Indeed, even in Israel –
the “tell-it-as-it-is-and-in-your-face” country – we have our limits. Bar
Mitvah is certainly one of those.
I have been to many Bar Mitzvahs ceremonies since, but every
year I love to come back to my own Haftara – by the Prophet Ezekiel, of course
(Ez. 44:15-31). Initially I was disappointed to read its text – it seems to
deal with the mundane issue of the type of cloths priests should (and should
not) put on prior to perform the holy task of serving God.
But then it hit me, several years later, that this text must
mean much more than that. And indeed, thanks to my own “Rabbi,” Yeshayahu
Leibovitz, I grew to understand that the text has profound – and indeed very
relevant modern-day— implications. In essence, it requires the priests and
Levites, when they enter into the “inner” sanctum, the holy of holiest places,
to wear special (and very specific) clothes. But when they go back outside, “to
the masses” as the text puts it, these same servants of God should again put on
their regular clothes: “and they shall not consecrate the people in their
[special] clothes.”
Why would the priests wear special clothes when no one can
see them, but regular clothes when everyone does? The answer implies a
fundamental principle of religious leadership adhered to, unfortunately, only
by very few religious leaders today (in all religions equally, by the way): It
is the idea that a religious leader is unique only to the extent – and
during the period – that he or she are serving God; in all other measures,
in all other respects, they are equal to all other people – and therefore
should appear like that. In that manner, both them and the people would have a
constant reminder that they are not “above all others” in any respect, except
for the time they serve God.
But none of the religious leaders I know today – from the
Pope to the Chief Rabbis to major Mullahs – would sacrifice their uniquely-looking
garbs (or robes) for the “regular clothes” of the people. They rightly fear
that “the people” would quickly reveal that, behind those gilded quilts, they
may not be so different from any of us…
Shabbat Shalom,
Doron
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Parashat Acharei-Mot - Ke'doshim
This week’s pair of portions are A’ch’arei Mot (which means
“after the death,” as in after the horrific death of two of Aharon’s sons for
sacrificing the “foreign fire,” discussed in “She’mi’ni” several weeks back,
that still has a lasting effect), and Ke’do’shim (which means Holy, as in “You
shall be holy for I am Holy” said God).
Both contain some of the best life-guiding advice ever provided,
thousands of years before the first “self-help” book was ever published. And
they all, without exception, sound as fresh today as they did 3,000 years
ago.
Take, for example, the following: “You shall not curse the
deaf, and before the blind you shall not place a hurdle” (the last one being
extremely versatile; think of cookie-filled closet in the house of a person
trying to loose weight (Levit. 19:14); “Do not carry injustice in a trial: do
not favor the poor or show deference to the well-to-do; in justice you shall
judge your peers.” (notice the early warning against “social engineering” at
the trial level, on both ends) (Levit. 19:15); “You shall rise before the
elderly, and show deference to the old” (enough said) (Levit. 20:32); “And when
a foreign resident dwells among you, do not defraud him; as a citizen like you
he shall be to you.” (pointing to the undocumented employees of old and the
adverse treatment they already received back then); and finally, for those who
wonder about the origin of the symbol of justice – the famous balanced scale –
a reminder that Wall Street moguls were not the first to commit a devastating
fraud on the financial markets: “Do not carry injustice in the law – falsely
measuring size, weight, or capacity; you shall have a scale of justice – stones
(weights) of justice, ruler of justice, and measurement of justice.” (Levit.
19:35).
But other than containing these – and many other – important
lessons for life, the two portions are centered around two themes: first, the
incest restrictions; and second, the notion of holiness. I want to dedicate today a few words to
each.
The Laws of Incest: What, and Why
In both portions, the laws of incest play a major role. In
the first, we learn first of the general restriction – “None of you shall come
near anyone of his own flesh to uncover nakedness (for) I am the Lord.” (Levit.
18:5). This general restriction – which, in my mind, should first and foremost
be understood as a complete restriction against sexual relations with one’s own
descendants – either sons or daughters, is followed by a very detailed list of
less obvious examples of forbidden sexual relations, including sexual relations
with one’s mother or father, with other wives the father may have, with
sisters, grandchildren, aunts, uncles, daughters-in-law, sisters-in-law, and
others. The list concludes with more general restrictions (not incest-related)
of homosexuality and – separately – bestiality (hence the frequent erroneous
link made by some self-righteous moralists between the two)(Levit.
18:6-23).
The second portion mostly repeats that list of restrictions
appearing in the first, but this time also adds the penalty attached. And that
penalty – no surprises here – is mostly death. For example, “And a man who
shall sleep with his father’s wife, exposing his father nakedness, both of
them shall die, their blood upon them.” (Levit. 20:11) The same
punishment awaits both persons engaged in homosexual relations (20:13); death
by fire awaits a man taking a daughter and her mother (20:14); a “regular”
death penalty is prescribed for a man engaged in bestiality (20:15); and so on. Other punishments, presumably for less than
full sexual intercourse, include excommunications or “cutting off” of the
persons involved.
Much more interesting than the “what” contained in these two
detailed lists, however, is the “why” – the religious explanation given by God
himself for these restrictions. One
explanation to the prohibition is not to replicate the laws and customs of both
Egypt (from where the Israelites have arrived)
or Cna’an (to where they are destined). Apparently, it seems that in
both countries these acts were prevalent. Another explanation is that the land
itself, according to God, became so “unpurified” by the prevalence of these
acts, that it “spewed out” those sinners, presumably allowing the Israelites
(who would not commit those acts) to come and settle in its midst. This is a
fascinating humanization of the land, and one worth noticing on Earth Day
(which we marked just recently).
These two explanations are in fact one. They are two sides
of the same coin. And they both relate to the notion of holiness in Judaism, on
which I (again) want to say very few words next.
The Notion of Holiness in Judaism
“You shall be holy for I am Holy, the Lord your God.”
(Levit. 19:2). Thus opens the second
portion of this week (“Ke’do’shim – Holy); it is also one of the quintessential
proclamations of the notion of Jewish holiness. As I have explained before (based on Leibowitz, who, in turn, is
based on the Rambam), the notion of holiness is not based on the fact
Jews are superior in any way to other people in and of themselves; indeed, this
is a prevalent mistake made by many Jews across history, and one that has
caused many a misunderstanding for both Jews and non-Jews. Indeed, the
equation: We are Jewish, therefore we are
holy is simply not true.
In fact, the notion of holiness in Judaism is properly based
solely on the notion of holiness of God Himself: He alone is the only Holy
entity; He and not us. In order to
become holy, too, Jewish people are supposed to commit wholeheartedly to two
things: in the affirmative manner, they must follow all of His rules, decrees,
and ordinances (613 of them) as they are detailed in the text; in the negative,
they should never worship other Gods, and so many other people are doing. These
two facets – the positive and negative – of the Jewish faith are the building
blocks on which the notion of holiness stand. To the extent that Jews are not
following God, or doing “as the rest of the people do,” they cannot claim their
unique status. But, and perhaps more
importantly, to the extent they do, they are only holy in so far
as the relationship between themselves and their God is concerned – not in any
other dimension, including the oft-invoked Jews-non-Jews sphere.
So next time you encounter a self-proclaimed “holy” person,
ask them: (1) Do you follow all of God’s rules?; and, if so, (2) Do you refrain
from doing what other, non-Jewish people are doing? If so – and only if so –
you can proclaim yourself “holy” in your own relationship with God, but
nowhere else. Now, to be sure, such a status should be considered a huge
achievement to every person of faith; but that is all that the
achievement is. Holiness between (and among) men is not achieved in Judaism –
neither achieved nor meant to be achieved.
This is an important lesson in humility. May all of you be holy in your
standing before God today.
Shabbat Shalom.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)