This week’s portion – Sh’mi’nee (literally, “the eighth,” as in “In the eighth day Moshe called Aaron) – continues last weeks’ main theme, which is the notion of proper worship through offerings. While not the most fascinating stuff offered by the Five Books, this week introduces us to a profound notion in Judaism and one of its fundamental tenets – the idea of complete obedience.
I. The Case of “Too Much of a Good Thing” – Then…
Can our religion tolerate “too much” worship? Is there “too much of a good thing” in Judaism? This week’s portion presents us with very clear answers to these classic theological conundrums. But before I present these answers (no, it can’t; and yes, there is – respectively) I want to introduce a term borrowed from the very-modern Hebrew: “Rosh Gadol” (or “Large Head”).
The term was invented – like many others in Israeli slang – in the army (the Israeli Defense Force, IDF). What it means is taking responsibility above and beyond the order given by a commander. Thus, a private with “Large Head,” when asked to clean his weapon, would also check that his entire gear is properly maintained. Similarly, a sergeant with large head, asked by his commander to check the unit’s gun cleanliness, would also go ahead and check their entire readiness for battle. You get the drill. [Conversely, a sergeant with a “small head” would do exactly as told, never deviating right or left from the commands as given.]
So in this week’s portion, the sons of Aaron – Moshe’s brother and the first Chief Rabbi – are demonstrating Large Head. After an extremely-detailed description of what their father has done during his offering ritual (including precisely what he did – and not do – with the calf’s blood, which portions of the calf he severed and which he did not, what portions where burned and where, which portions were washed, and many other details that were, one assumes, of great interest to someone at the time (Leviticus 9:8-22)) – a ritual well received by both God and men (“And fire came out before God and consumed the burned offering that are on the altar … and the entire People has seen the sights, and they were delighted, and they fell upon their faces” Id., at 24). So now it is the sons’ turn to do the same.
But instead of repeating precisely what their father has done, they preferred to exercise “large head,” picking it up a notch. “Now the sons of Aaron Nadav and Avi’hu each took their pan, and they put fire in each, and they placed incense on it; and they have sacrificed it before God.” (Lev. 10:1). So far so good. Or is it? The text departs then sharply, moving from mere description of what the brothers have done to a harsh evaluation: “[They have offered to God] a foreign fire, which God never ordered them to.” (Id.) As we have seen, however, those who exercise “large head” do exactly that: They don’t do exactly as ordered, but move a step forward “enlarging” their task – usually by demanding more of themselves and others.
But God’s response to such self-improving initiative is swift, and could not have been clearer: “And a fire came out before God, and it consumed them, and they have died before God.” (Lev. 10:2). So goes one of the Five Book’s most famous stories, of how the sons of the Chief Priest – the two Priest-designated, the chosen sons – were executed for exercising a bit of “business initiative,” or free will.
At first, this harsh punishment seems like a tough sell. The two, after all, have not committed a sin of the magnitude of the Golden Calf. They did not even worship other gods. They did not turn away from God. In fact, they may be said to both recognize and obey the First, Second, and Third Commandments (“I am the Lord your God”; you shall not make any statue or mask; and “You shall not take the Lord’s name in vein,” respectively). And yet they were executed immediately upon committing their act. Why?
The answer lies in the concept of blind and complete obedience – Na’asse Ve’Nishma (first we obey, then we listen [or question] the command). This concept is fundamental to the understanding of the entire corpus of Torah’s teaching. As a rule, Judaism despises dissenters. As we shall see in the next Book in the series, the first indication of a real opposition to Moshe was also met with a deadly faith (the story of Korach and his party). And we have yet to recover from the punishment – arguably, disproportional – imposed following the Golden Calf event, with more than 3,000 dead among the Israelites and killed by their own brethren (the Levites).
To be sure, in terms of real-politik we could make the argument that the desert is not the best-suited venue for disagreement. We can even agree that at least until they have settled in Israel, the Israelites had to unite around the leadership of Moshe, their well-recognized “slave of God.”
But why such harsh punishment? Why death (both to Golden Calf culprits and the Sons of Aaron, and later to Korach and his party)? My guess is that these initiative attempts were met with the ultimate punishment not so much for the rigid penal ideology behind them as much as for the lack of suitable alternatives. Recall that Moshe is in the desert, leading a group of former slaves, and he need not only punish, but – more importantly – deter any future attempts of “large head,” of disobedience. In a larger sense, Moshe is trying to curtail any revelation of disagreement with him. He has the law on his side – the law is what he says it is. He also has the police with him – there is no separation of powers in the desert. But, on the other hand, there are no prison camps in the desert. There is no properly-functioning penal system. Thus, to impose a crippling sickness on the dissenters (for example) would only slow everyone down. In fact, any imposition upon the accused would immediately adversely affect the entire group. This is a huge incentive not to punish. And yet a swift action is required, an action that is both deterring (to other people) and effective (to the people involved). The only solution, it seems, is death. [For Kant, however, such “reasoning” cannot pass. But this discussion is beyond this post.]
II. … And Now
The problem is that today we are not in the desert. We are not at our infancy as a people. There is no urgent need – either from a security standpoint or otherwise – to unite around the leadership of a single person (and, in any event, no one seems to get close to the level of a True Slave of God). Why, then, the Jewish religion – and almost every other religion, for that matter – is still so adamant to “kill” any revelation of dissent? To destroy any notion of disobedience, of free will, of “Large Head”? Just in recent months we heard about a woman Rabbi who had to relinquish her chosen title (“Rabba”) so it will not offend some male Rabbies. (see http://www.thejewishweek.com/news/national/beyond_rabba_rousing) But why? What is so wrong about a new female voice? What was so wrong about the writings of Baruch Shpinoza that led to his ex-communication (or “social death,” if you will) by his community, all for arguing in favor of a new vision of God? Was that so bad?
In my mind, it is that stronghold, this narrow vision of one-and-only-one interpretation placed by early Judaism that led to its inevitable breakup. It is this monopoly view that led to the foundation of other Jewish denominations, culminating with the creation of the largest group of Judaism today, that of Reform Judaism. Unfortunately, the leadership of that group is not even recognized by the self-proclaimed group of Orthodox Jews in Israel; thus, the orthodox would not even willing to call the Reform Rabbis “Rabbis.” And that, in my mind, is the biggest fracture in Judaism today, and perhaps the worst thing that may ever happen to a small (and historically persecuted) religious minority group like the Jewish people.
And it all started with the killing of the two brothers for offering a fire to God, a fire God never asked for. Is it too late to ask that we think it over?
Shabbat Shalom,
Doron
As always thank you. And now, what would Kant's issue be with this "reasoning"?
ReplyDelete