Parashat Ki-Tetze, Deut. 20:10-25:19

Sometimes life is wilder than any imagination.

Last week I was finalizing a move to Cleveland. With all my books and resources long gone – shipped away in boxes – I did not find the time and mental space to write about the portion of the week - “Ki Tetze.” There was some symbolism in that, as Ki-Tetze was the last portion for me to complete a full cycle of posts on this blog. So I drove to Cleveland with every intention to find my “portion” books in their box (those include the Torah Text, some commentaries, and, always, Leibovitz’s take on the portion) and complete the cycle with a bang.   

But then terrifying news arrived. My father just passed. My own dad – is no longer. The most ardent reader – and fierce critic – of the post would read it no more. It is hard to put into words what that meant to me. It is as if I have lost at once my closest family member, my best friend, my advisor for life, my mentor, my biggest supporter, my Abba. I spoke to him – as I do every day – on Tuesday morning; the next my mom called and told me he passed.  This is still too hard to accept.

I am writing this post from Israel, where we are about to bury my father in a couple of hours.  This post, then, is dedicated to him. As you will see immediately, this is no coincidence: This week’s portion deals extensively with both the delicate issue of father-son relationship, as well as with the issue of death. It even connects the two, in a bizarre and strange manner.

The Law of the Rebellious Son

The complicated relations between father and son are presented in this week’s portion in a very interesting way. Since the book of D’varim (Deuteronomy) is a book of laws, it does not bother to deal with the day-to-day aspects of life – these warrant no special attention or regulation. Rather, this law book – like countless of others written following it throughout history – deals mostly with the aberrations of life, those instances that warrant special attention (and, the concomitantly-related special punishment). One of those instances is that of the rebellious son.

We are all familiar with the notion of a son who is not listening to his dad. We have all been there – Dad always wants you to do “what’s right”; you, on the other hand, think you know better and opt to do another thing. What are the options that dad has in this situation?

Throughout most of my life I tended to examine this question from a very narrow perspective – that of the ignorant son, who naturally thinks think he knows better and therefore opts to do the opposite of what his dad tells him to. That view has evolved over the years, however; as Mark Twain remarked once, “When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But, when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years." Indeed, I, too, realized how much my dad “learned” over the years.

But my perspective not only evolved through the years; it has also changed completely four years ago when I became a dad myself. Suddenly I realized what it means to actually ask your son to do something and having him completely ignore you (or worse, do the opposite). From that vintage point, all of a sudden, the question of “the son who knows better” received an entire different meaning. It begins with very small things – the insistence that he would hold your hand when crossing the street, the requests not to play ball near traveling cars – but these things matter, as they are safety-related; and once your little boy ignores you there, he might be in real danger (and you, as a parent, in real trouble).

So what is a father to do in these situations? What can we do when our children repeatedly ignore our requests, or insist on doing the opposite? The Torah, at first glance, offers very little guidance. The solution it offers – quite shockingly – is nothing if not radical: “Kill the boy!” the Torah says, let him die. And in the language of the text:

If a man has a wayward and rebellious son, who does not obey his father or his mother, and they chasten him, and [he still] does not listen to them; his father and his mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his city, and to the gate of his place. And they shall say to the elders of his city, "This son of ours is wayward and rebellious; he does not obey us; [he is] a glutton and a guzzler.” And all the men of his city shall stone him to death, and he shall die. So shall you clear out the evil from among you, and all Israel will listen and fear. (Deut. 20: 18-21)

I am not sure – I did not conduct the research – just how many times this penalty was actually utilized by parents (and executed by the city-people). But I have a hunch – very little. Indeed, more than an actual advice (in my mind) this “law of the rebellious son” is intended more as a cautionary tale – a cautionary tale to all of us, “sons” and “fathers” alike. On the “son” part, it intends to tell us that our parents – through the representing institutions – have the ultimate power upon us. They are instructed with the role of our education; but they also have the power to constrain us should we keep disobey their orders. So extreme is the power parents have, that they can even lead to our death as disobedient sons.

But the lesson to the parents, in my mind, is even more striking. Allegedly, this provision provides the parents with the ultimate solution to a very difficult and delicate problem; “Know you, all parents out there,” the Torah instructs us, “that should your son consistently disobey you, you are hereby granted with the ultimate power; you may – through the representing institution – put your son to death.” But this solution is of very little comfort. Very few parents would like to see their son die (even a disobedient son). And even fewer parents would like to send their son to his death.

Indeed, perhaps the Torah is trying to tell us something much deeper here. Perhaps the message is that death can never be a solution; that even if you have the power to inflict death, in a relation between parents and children you should never use that power – you should always opt for much more sophisticated, and lesser harsh, sanctions that would amend the ways of your disobedient son.

And to that extent – that in the father-son context, death is never a solution – I find the Portion very rewarding this week.

Shabbat Shalom.

Doron  

 

    

Parashat Shoftim, Deut. 17:18 - 21:9

This week’s potion – “Shoftim,” literally Judges – is a wonderful potion. It is wonderful because it still sounds fresh after thousands of years; it is wonderful because it contains many useful lessons – even today, in the age of ipad and i-can’t-get-any-advice-over-three-seconds-long; and it is wonderful because it shows us, as Kohelet observed later, that “nothing is new under the sun.”

Of the many issues that the Portion deals with, I want to focus on four: The Judges; the Police Officers; the Law of the King; and the “Green Heritage” of the bible. I will take those in turn.

1.      The Judges

The portion begins with both a descriptive and prescriptive role of Judges in the community. First, they should judge according to “the law of justice.” (Deut. 16:18) Then, they are ordered not to be biased; not to recognize one party over the other; and not to take bribes. While the first two orders are (apparently) self-explanatory, the last one – about bribes – receives a special, short-but-sweet explanation: “For the bribe will blind they eye of the wise,” and would “twist” (or “take out of context”) the “words of the just.” This is a wonderful analysis of the effect of bribe; until today, it is of full force and effect. This part ends with the wonderful order: “Justice, Justice you shall pursue.” (16:20) – Indeed, the quest for justice is never-ending; but still, this ideal state should always be pursued, despite all the hardships.

This section is one of the eloquent ever written about the judges’ role. Many judges – all around the world, from Israel to the U.S. and anywhere in between – have quotes from this passage hung in their chambers. And for good reasons; the more you think about it, the better judge you are. It not for nothing that judges of the Supreme Court are called “Justices”; now you also know why.  

2.      The Police Officers

Though the translation of the term from Hebrew – Shotrim – is straight-forward (police officers), the true meaning of the term is far from clear. These biblical office holders are probably not precisely the “policemen” of today, although it seems clear from the context that they are an arm of the executive branch (as they are today). Be it as it may, I want to focus today on a unique moment – in which those police officers are in charge – and that is the moment before setting out to war. The text begins with a description of what the spiritual authority – the Chief Priest (Cohen) – would tell the people (a form of religious pep-talk, if you will; see Deut. 20:2-4). But now comes the time of the “police officers.” They would stand before the people and start to provide “waivers” for all of those who would not be required to go to war: First, “He who just built anew house, but have yet to dedicate it.” He may go back home, “lest he would fall in battle and another man would dedicate his home.” Second, and very similar, “He who planted a vineyard but has never harvested it.” He, too, may go back home, for the exact same reason. In similar form “He who was engaged to a woman, but has yet to marry her,” may return home. Generally speaking, therefore, the bible recognizes (through the police officers) that for those who the war comes at a very bad timing, perhaps their heart would not be with the war but elsewhere; these people should be let go. But then comes a surprise: “And the police officers continued to speak to the people and said: Who is the man who is afraid, that his heart is soft (disheartened) – he should go back home.” But why? Why would the cowardly-acting warrior allowed to go back home? He has no home to dedicate, no vineyard to harvest, to wife to take – nothing, in fact, to wait for. So why? In one of my favorite movies, A Few Good Men (already known to loyal readers of this blog), Col. Nathan Jessop – played by Jack Nicholson in a career-defining role – comes face to face with the same exact question. In the movie, a failing Marine – Private William Santiago – is asking to a transfer from Gitmo, where he is currently stationed under the command of Jessop, primarily due to poor performance (a “sub-standard marine,” in Jessop’s language). Jessop, in turn, is consulting with two of his officers about the request. The two provide opposite solutions - one (Kiefer Sutherland) suggests he stays and be “re-educated,” while the other (J.T. Walsh) recommends he would be transferred as requested, as he simply is not fit to be a part of the team. Upon hearing that, Col. Jessup’s response is memorable:

Col. Jessep: Hmmmm... transfer Santiago. Yes, I'm sure you're right. I'm sure that's the thing to do. Wait a minute, I have a better idea. Let's transfer the whole squad off the base. Let's... On second thought, Windward! Let's transfer the whole Windward Division off the base. John, go on out there get those boys down off the fence, they're packing their bags. Tom! 
Tom: Yes, sir! 

Col. Jessep: Get me the President on the phone right away. We're surrendering our position in Cuba!

Tom: Yes, sir. 

Col. Jessep: Wait a minute, Tom, don't get the President just yet. Maybe we should consider this a second. Dismissed, Tom. Maybe, and I'm just spit balling here, maybe, we have a responsibility as officers to train young William. Maybe we as officers have a responsibility to this country to see to it that the men and women charged with its security are trained professionals. Yes, I'm certain I remember reading that somewhere once. And now I'm thinking, Col. Markinson, that your suggestion of transferring Santiago, while expeditious and certainly painless, might not be, in a matter of speaking, the American way. Santiago stays where he is. We're gonna train the lad! 

The biblical solution, however, is different. The bible suggests to release the “William Santyago’s” of the world, and to enable them to go back home prior to the war. But why? The answer is striking: “For he shall not melt his brethren’s heart as his own,” meaning – that his cowardness (and, in modern terms, “sub-standard performance”) would not be infectious. The interesting point here is on the focus: While Col. Jessup is focusing on “Young William” himself, the biblical text is more concerned with the effect such soldiers may have on their brothers-in-arms. Who is more right?   

3.      The Law of the King

This point is interesting only because of the striking contrast between the biblical Order (T’zivuy, like “Mitzvah”), and biblical Reality. Long before Shaul, our first King (and the tension that that institution created with Shmu’el, the head of the religious establishment at the time), the biblical text warns the people of Israel from an opulent king, who would be extremely extravert about his status. But reality, as it happens, is quite the contrast. Let us compare the writings here with the story of King Shlomo (Salomon):

Deut. 17:16: “(The King) should not have many horses… “

King Shlomo (Kings I, 5:6): “And King Shlomo had forty thousands stalls of horses, for his chariots, and twelve thousand horsemen.”

Deut.: “And he (The King) should not many women…”

King Shlomo: “And he (King Shlomo) had seven hundred (primary) wives, and three hundred concubines…” (King I, 11:4)

Deut.: “And he (The King) should not amass silver and gold….”

King Shlomo: “And all King Shlomo’s drinking vessels were of gold, and all the vessels of the house of the forest of Levanon were of pure gold; none were of silver – that was considered nothing gin the days of Shlomo… “

You get the idea.  

4.      Biblical “Green Heritage”?

Finally, a very interesting note – or warning, perhaps – appears in an unexpected place in the text. The subject of the discussion is the law of siege – what should you do while besieging a city “for many days.” And while we may expect the text to suggest to perhaps spare the lives of the women and children in the city, the text suddenly turn to discuss something completely different: the lives of the trees near the city. And here is what the bible tells us: “When in your war against a city you have to besiege it for many days in order to fight and capture it, you shall not destroy its trees or wield an ax over them, for you shall eat from that tree and you shall not cut it for a man is merely a tree in the field.” (Deut. 20:19) This last sentence, by the way, is the title of a beautiful poem by Nathan Zach, where he compares the growing of a tree to that of a human. (For a wonderful rendition, see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HiswDU4JZSY).

Importantly, this shows us the great “green heritage” of the bible – which considers the lives of the trees in general, and in particular in times of war.

Shabbat Shalom,

Doron  

Parashat Re'eh, Deut. 11:26 -16:17

This week’s portion – Re’eh (literally, “see” as in “See, today I hand down to you both a blessing and a course”) – is, in a sense, a continuation of last week’s portion; these notes, therefore, may also follow suit. As you may recall, last week we introduced the notion of the “love” of God (not to be confused with the opposite notion of “for the love of God!”).  We saw two different views as to how to interpret that notion: the first, according to Halacha (Leibovitz, Rambam), which is a more “objective” notion of love (and translates into following all the rules and committing all the Mitzvoth). The second, according to other interpretation, which is more a “subjective,” internal notion of the (very deep, and very strong) relationship with God.

Today I want to continue this discussion, from the more objective point of view, by looking at the actual ways in which we are to love our God. In particular, I want to point to the complete experience of the faithful person. I want to suggest that a man of faith both sees, hears, taste, smells, and touches – not his God, but rather his experience of loving God. And then there are other dimensions. In short, the love of God – according to the biblical text – is a multi-sense, multi-level process. Today I will simply point to the text of this week’s portion to demonstrate this point.

Love of God – An Experience for All Five Senses

This week’s portion begins with – and therefore is named after – the order to see (Re’eh). God is ordering us to “see” the fact that he’s handing us both a blessing and a course; the blessing, of course, for following him (and as I have explained in the past, the blessing is in the act of following him; there is no need for additional rewards – Emu’na Le’shma (a belief for its own sake)). The course, is, naturally, for the opposite case (And again – no need for classic “punishment” here; suffice it is that a person goes through his entire life in the empty and shallow way of – according to this line of thought – not having a God in their lives; that, alone, constitutes enough of a punishment).

After “to see” comes “to hear” (or “to listen” – in Hebrew, both collapse into one word in that context.) Last week, we had the classic “to hear” – Sh’ma Israel; Hear, Oh Israel. But this week, too, the verb “to hear” appears immediately after the order “to see”: “The blessing [is that] you will listen to the orders of God (Mitvoth) that I order upon you today; and the course – if you shall not listen [to the same]. (Deut. 11:26-27). The command “to hear” appears several more times this week, and in some cases in key settings (see, e.g., “Be guarded and hear everything that I order upon you today.” Deut. 12:28)

Next comes “to taste.” And this week’s portion if full of tasting requirements – both in the positive (“you may eat meat in any of your settlements,” Deut. 12:15), and in the negative (of which this week’s provides us with the most famous example: “You shall not boil a kid in its mother’s milk.” Deut. 14:21). Plenty of other examples exist in this week’s portion to demonstrate how much “tasting” is involved in the loving of God.  

The next sense – “to smell” – is the single exception to the five senses in that it does not directly appear in the text. Still, a quick look into the text may reveal that “smell” is all around us.  Take, for example, Deut. 12:27: “You shall offer your burnt offerings, both the flesh and the blood, on the altar of the Lord your God; and of your other sacrifices, the blood shall be poured out on the altar of the Lord your God, and you shall eat the flesh.” Can’t you just “smell” the scene? Again, my point here is not to show that we are ordered to smell; my point is to show that the experience of a faithful person – he who truly loves God – are a multi-sense experience of belief.

Last, but not least, comes the sense of touch. Naturally, we cannot “touch” God – but we can neither see, hear, taste, or smell Him either (recall that this is not my point here). But our experience of faith – our experience of loving God – is full of “touch.”  Thus, we are ordered to “tear down” all non-Jewish pillars (Deut. 12:3); to “burn down” their gods (Id.); to “offer blessing” (blood and flesh and all) (Deut. 12:14-15); and many, many other examples where we are ordered to do things “by hand.”

Love of God – Beyond the Five Senses

But the five senses, it seems, are only the starting point for the experience.  This week’s potion text is full of other orders that make the process of loving God – the process of faith – even more complete than that. Thus, for example, we are ordered:

“To rejoice before the Lord.” (Deut. 12:12);

“To do what is good and right in the eyes of the Lord.” (Deut. 12:28)

“[As to your indigent neighbor] – you shall open your hand to him, and you shall provide him enough for his needs.” (Deut. 16:7-8).

These are all but examples – samples, really – of what is required from the person of faith. He, or she, are fortunate enough to have God in their lives; but they are also bound by a 360-degree experience, encompassing all their senses – and more – in every step on their daily lives. As the Sh’ma reads  - this experience is with us when we are at home or outside, when we lie down in our bed or walk about our ways in the world.

The best summary, as usual, was given by the portion itself. When the text discusses the law of a “false prophet” – he who would try to persuade you that you should follow another God, the text concludes:

“Do not heed to the words of that prophet or that dream diviner, for the Lord your God is testing your to see whether you really love the Lord your God with all your heart and all of your soul; and you shall follow you God, and you shall see Him, and you keep his Orders (Mithvoth), and you shall listen to His voice, and you shall worship Him, and you shall stick to Him.” (Deut. 13:4-5).

Can you think of a more comprehensive experience?

Shabbat Shalom,

Doron