Parshat Ki Tetse, "Not Rebellious at All"

Parshat Ki Tetse, "Not Rebellious at All" - The portion this week sets out a number of laws governing personal conduct and relationships.  We find among these laws that of the ben sorer u’moreh, the “wayward and rebellious son.” Chapter 21:18-21 describe to us how if such a son is born to you and he cannot be controlled, then he is to be stoned to death.  It is hard to imagine even the worst of children deserving that fate, so how do we reconcile this law in our Torah with what we feel is right?

We can turn to our rabbis for help.  In this instance, the rabbis of the Talmud had just as much trouble with such a terrible punishment as we still do today.  They curtail the law’s applicability (Sanhedrin 70a-71a) by making the limits to which the troublesome child would have to go to be worthy of execution impossible to reach.  Countless Jewish teenagers no doubt thank them for that.

But this brings up another dilemma for us, even if it does save Jewish children from being executed by their own parents.  The Torah seems pretty clear.  It says rebellious children are to be executed by the rabbis say that’s not what the Torah says.  It’s as if, when we don’t like something in the Torah, we can just explain that it does not mean what it appears to and ignore it.  What does that do for the Torah’s authority or ability to guide as a community?

The first answer squaring this circle teaches us to remember that although we venerate the Torah as the record of God’s revelation to us, it is only the outline the Teacher passed out to the class.  The class notes that flesh it out are found in how the rabbis over time, and particularly in the Talmud, have explained the Torah.  Of course the outline can’t be changed, but in detail and scope an outline is limited and needs further explanation, so too with our Torah.

But even beyond this answer is another.  Just like anything important and serious in life, religion is complicated.  It doesn’t always have neat, nice, black and white components.  It can be hard to understand sometimes, and we must struggle to have its meaning be important to us, but that is how it is supposed to be.  That is why we are called Israel, “to wrestle with God.” 

Shabbat Shalom

Mattot-Massei: Actions Speak Louder than Words Speak Louder than Actions

Mattot-Massei:  Actions Speak Louder than Words Speak Louder than Actions

At the transition point between the two combined portions we read this Shabbat, the tribes of Reuben and Gad approach Moses with a request. Rather than be assigned land within Israel, they wish to settle on the opposite side of the Jordan because, "pens will we build for our cattle here, and cities for our little ones" (Num. 32:16).  Moses agrees with their requesting, telling them, "build for yourselves cities for your little ones and pens for your flocks" (32:24).

The switch Moses makes when he agrees is significant.  Midrash Rabbah, a classic rabbinic work, notes that Moses wanted to be sure the two tribes have their priorities straight.  While cattle and the profit derived from them are important, human life is even more important, so he mentions the little ones first. 

Yet isn't this just a question of words?  Aren't they both saying the same things?  This is why Moses adds further to them, "and what has come from your mouth you shall do" (32:24).  In Judaism, actions are what counts.  Knowing about the mitzvot, the commandments, is nothing like performing them and in so doing seeking to make the world actually reflect God's will. 

At the same time, it can't possibly right that just going through the motions of doing the right things, or worse, doing the right things with bad intentions, can be okay. 

It is to guard against this concern when it comes to Judaism's emphasis on actions that Moses speaks in the manner in which he does.  It's as if he's saying, "think about the words that came out of your mouths, and now those that came out of mine, what were your intentions really?  What will your priorities be when you finally do act?"

There was a pious rabbi, Rabbi Nechunya ben Hakkanah, who would pray before the prayer service began, that "there may be no error on my part when I pray" (Berachot 28b). 

Moses' reminder is that our intentions (kavannah) when we act are important.  Sometimes, beginning with a statement of intention, can shape our actions for the better, instilling in them the proper awareness and meaning we should want them always to have.  And perhaps even more challenging is Rabbi Nechunya's model, where we treat our words and actions as truly being equally important, and so we must pause before them as well to be sure of our intentions before we even speak about what our actions will be.

Shabbat Shalom!

Parshat Balak - Being Able to "Sees"

Parshat Balak, “Being Able to ‘Sees’” The importance of being able to see more than one thing at a time is particularly important to us – as we learn in this Parshah:

“And he took up his parable and said, ‘Balaam the son of Beor has said, and the man whose eye is open has said…”

 נְאֻם בִּלְעָם בְּנוֹ בְעֹר, וּנְאֻם הַגֶּבֶר שְׁתֻם הָעָיִן.

Rabbis understand to mean Balaam had one eye – literally and figuratively. 

What did Balaam do?  He was able to communicate with God and he did give the mah tovu blessing to the Jewish People. 

But… we understand that he still sought to defeat the Jews by non-supernatural means and was eventually killed because of it.  Our tradition understands him to be an evil character. 

How could this be?  He was able to see God and the truth about God.  But, he was unable to see that he himself was not a good man.

In Judaism it is very important to see with TWO EYES, one to recognize God and to know what God wants.  But even more important, two to see how well you are fitting into what God wants.  It’s easy to point out the flaws in everyone else, and how they fall short of God’s wishes, but we must be able to cast an eye on ourselves also.

Being able to see how well we measure up is more than just “half” of what we need to see.  We are truly “blinded” if we are unable to perceive our own faults and shortcomings.  Being able to see these, and then also being able to see what we should aspire to achieve and be like (in God’s eyes) allows us to have “complete vision” and “clear eyes.”

Chukkat - What's the Difference?

Parshat Chukkat - What’s the Difference?  Numbers 20 tells us of the deaths of Miriam and Aaron, Moses older sister and brother and two of the key leaders of the Exodus.  Miriam’s death is told all in the first verse, “In the first month [of the fortieth year] the whole Israelite community arrived at the Desert of Zin, and they stayed at Kadesh. There Miriam died and was buried.” 

Aaron’s death comes at the end and is described like this:

“²³ At Mount Hor, near the border of Edom, the Lord said to Moses and Aaron, ²⁴ “Aaron will be gathered to his people. He will not enter the land I give the Israelites, because both of you rebelled against my command at the waters of Meribah. ²⁵ Get Aaron and his son Eleazar and take them up Mount Hor. ²⁶ Remove Aaron’s garments and put them on his son Eleazar, for Aaron will be gathered to his people; he will die there.”

²⁷ Moses did as the Lord commanded: They went up Mount Hor in the sight of the whole community. ²⁸ Moses removed Aaron’s garments and put them on his son Eleazar. And Aaron died there on top of the mountain. Then Moses and Eleazar came down from the mountain,²⁹ and when the whole community learned that Aaron had died, all the Israelites mourned for him thirty days.

Big difference between the two of them.  It would be easy to chalk the difference up to Aaron being a man and Miriam a woman and thus Aaron gets more attention, and that may very well be a big part of what is going on here and shouldn’t be discounted.  However, if that’s all we see going on, we may perhaps miss other lessons these passages attempt to teach.

Right after Miriam dies the people complain they have no water, and tradition tells us that they merited water from a special well during Miriam’s lifetime but lost that gift when she died.  Perhaps the urgent need to find water in the desert is part of the difference?

Aaron is the inaugural High Priest, a very public figure. Miriam, though a leader and a prophet in her own right, comes across in the text as perhaps less of the public figure and a little more of a behind the scenes or supporting player.  Is there a reason or a need to mourn public figures of the type like Aaron differently than private ones like Miriam might have been? 

Furthermore, people are just different, in life and in death.  Has every member of your family lived a similar life?  Have those you loved and lost always had similar funerals? 

I think the Torah wants us to consider all these possibilities to draw us further into the story.  I also believe the Torah leaves the answer unspoken because at different times in our lives we will need the emphasis in a given story to be different depending on where we are. 

But I also believe very keenly in the importance, in death, of celebrating each life in a manner that best suits the individual, regardless of their rank or family.  It is one of the most important ways we show our love and respect for them when we do this. 

And if it is important to do that when a loved one dies – well perhaps we needn’t wait that long to recognize and appreciate all the unique gifts our loved ones possess.  Shabbat Shalom.

Korach - First and Foremost

Parshat Korach - First and Foremost:  When memorizing a list of items, people usually get the first one or two and maybe the last couple, but in a long list, the middle gets forgotten.  It’s just something about the way humans and their minds work that the first makes an impression.  It’s the same with a collection of valuables, the one that we get first is often most prized. 

And according to Sefer ha-Chinuch, the medieval book about the mitzvot, the same can be said when a person first becomes a parent, that first child is simply special for being the first and so transformative for the family and everyone concerned.  Our Torah portion this week wraps up with a reminder of the law stated earlier that a first-born son must be redeemed by his family from the kohanim, the priests.  This is, according to Chinuch, a reminder of both the days when the first-born were the priests, but also because, “we acknowledge that whatever we posses in reality belongs to God.  A person’s first acquisition is usually the most precious in his eyes, therefore in giving the “first” to God we demonstrate that we remember this important fact.”

What benefit is it to “give” the “first,” most “precious” to God?  We human beings can easily fall victim to our own sense of self-importance, we can let our egos and what’s “ours” to get in the way of what’s right or actually best.  When we let this happen, we can harm relationships and the world around us, unnecessarily defending “ours” against everything and everyone else.  Let’s not be too quick to do that.  And remembering that what we think is ours is really God’s, is a good place to start.  That doesn’t mean we can’t still care passionately or love that which is God’s, nor does it mean that we can’t fall victim to standing up for what is God’s when God doesn’t need the help (let alone using the notion that we are defending “God’s” when really we are back to defending what we think is ours again). 

So, when you feel threatened or on the attack, or overly anxious about things, try to remember that it all belongs to God, that its okay to be strong by not fighting, by even surrendering sometimes.  Going back to the parshah’s example, our kids are our responsibility, it’s true.  But they will grow and develop, have interests and personalities that may be different and even at odds with our own.  Do we need to bend them back to being what we think they should be?  Or do we need to foster and nurture what God saw fit to add to the world by bringing them into it?  The parshah tells us it’s the latter – and it’s true as much about our first child as the last child of someone else.  

Behalotecha - It's the Feeling that Counts

Behalotecha - It's the Feelings that Count:  There is a great story in the Talmud (Berachot 34a) about a time when someone in the study hall of Rabbi Eliezer led the prayers very quickly and the students complained he should go slower.  

Rabbi Eliezer said to them, "don't you know the part in this week’s Parshah of Behalotecha, when Moses prayed to God on behalf of his sister Miriam? All he said was 'God please heal her.'  A quick prayer sufficed, the same with the prayers today."  

Another time, someone else led services, but was very slow and the students complained again to Rabbi Eliezer that this one should go faster.  

However, Rabbi Eliezer in this case reminded the students, "Moses was on Mt. Sinai for forty days and nights, don't worry, however long it is, it won't be that long!"

The lesson here is twofold.  First, our prayers may be long or short, but if they have kavannah, if they have intention, then they may very well be sufficient.  But second and even more important, is having the discernment, the thoughtfulness, to recognize that sometimes situations are different and require different approaches.  

We know this is the case in our story from Rabbi Eliezer's words and actions.  Who was it that Rabbi Eliezer had in mind with what he said?  The person leading services and that person's standing in the community.  Could you imagine how it would feel if the rabbi in either story had criticized the prayer-leader, taking the side of the other students against that person?  How humiliating!  Rabbi Eliezer, however, is able to quickly and cleverly teach a valid lesson to his complaining students (about kavannah in prayer) while at the same time subtly teaching them the lesson of respect for other people, also.  

I hope we can be equally sensitive to Rabbi Eliezer's lessons about how to pray and how to treat people.  

Shabbat Shalom!

Nasso - Nazirites vs. Negotiators

Nasso – "Nazirites vs. Negotiators:"  We live in a world today of nazirites.  Not actual nazirites as in the Torah portion this week; people who swear off wine and cutting their hair and maintaining a high level of purity, but people who get too focused on their own saintliness, their own rightness, at the expense of the rest of the world.

Judaism makes room for the nazirite, and throughout Jewish history there have been all sorts of variations on the idea of perfecting oneself – from the Hasidic tradition to the mussar tradition.  And while none of these completely pulls the person from society, equally none of them keeps the person in the midst of society, making the hard, messy, dirty choices that society requires to keep functioning.  That is why Judaism rejects as an ideal the nazirite and why the Torah even insists such a person brings an offering of atonement after their nazirite period ends. 

The ideal person is the rabbinic sage of ancient times.  Enmeshed in the world, seeking to make the words of Torah, already ancient in rabbinic times, meaningful and alive in the new circumstances in which they lived.  Those rabbis often supported themselves through other sorts of work and were actively engaged with their fellow Jews and non-Jews in real ways.  And they still sought to improve the world and make it better.  They just weren’t fanatics about it.

We need more people like that.  Those willing to compromise.  Those willing to see how others live.  Those willing to get their hands dirty.  It is all too easy to retreat to a corner of ideological purity like the nazirite does, and there is nothing inherently wrong with that.  But you are no longer engaging in the world when you do that.  Meeting people where they are, even if you don’t like it, that is how things get done.