When is Authoritarianism Acceptable?

 Mikketz

Gen. 41:1-44:17

Précis: At the end (mikketz) of two years of Joseph’s imprisonment, Pharaoh dreams of cows and ears of corn. The butler who had shared Joseph’s cell now remembers him and calls him from prison. Joseph predicts seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine. Pharaoh is so impressed that he appoints Joseph as his chief vizier and Joseph goes about storing grain during the times of plenty.

            Joseph married Asenath and they have two sons, Ephraim and Manasseh. When the famine comes, Jacob sends his sons to Egypt to purchase food. Joseph has them brought in while he remains in cognito. He accuses the brothers of spying, and sends them home after they leave one brother hostage and promise to return with their youngest brother, Benjamin. Upon their return, the brothers (including Benjamin) meet the still-unrevealed Joseph. Joseph has their bags filled not only with grain but also with the money used to purchase the grain and has a gold cup hidden in Benjamin’s belongings. When they are “caught” by Joseph’s men, they learn that whoever stole the cup would become Joseph’s slave, while the others would return to their homeland. On this cliffhanger, the parasha ends.

 

Gen. 41:15-27 – “Pharaoh said to Joseph, I dreamt a dream and there is no one to interpret it… Joseph said to Pharaoh, “Pharaoh's dream is what God has revealed…Let Pharaoh select a man who is discerning and wise…”

 

Rabbi Justin David discusses the theory that Joseph was not a savior of Egypt, but rather a despot. (MyJewishLearning.com, 12/16/14). When we view Joseph this way, we see the potential threat of totalitarianism.

            Joseph’s interpretation of Pharaoh’s dreams leads to his appointment as supreme ruler. He seizes the produce during the years of plenty and stores them.

But when the famine does indeed occur, he does not freely distribute the previously taken stores, but instead sells them to the Egyptians. First it is by money, then livestock, then the land that they own themselves. Pharaoh has become, through Joseph’s machinations, the “owner” of all of Egypt. Having been dispossessed of their land, the Egyptians declare themselves to be the “slaves” of Pharaoh, becoming sharecroppers on the land they had previously owned.

            This action presages the warning of Samuel against the appointment of a king (I Samuel 7:15-17) who warns “He will take a tithe of your seed and your vineyards, which he will give to his courtiers and servants…He will take a tithe of your flocks and render you his slaves.”

            Indeed, Rashbam (grandson of Rashi) compares Joseph’s behavior to that of Achashverosh, the Persian king of the Book of Esther. It appears that we are not the first to question Joseph’s role. Of course, our text specifically states that it is all part of God’s plan, for without the famine, the family would not reunite, and the Jewish People would not have been created out of Jacob’s sons.

            This leaves us with a very pressing problem today: can authoritarianism be justified?  Joseph is called a “tzaddik” (righteous) but the word implies a balance. Perhaps, as Rabbi David suggests, Joseph was “the kind of extraordinary leader who could create a sense of common good and purpose that allowed people to embrace the sacrifices he mandated.”

In fact, Joseph may be the exception that proves the rule. He achieved a delicate balance, but such a balance is rare. Samuel’s warning should never be forgotten. And we must be on the guard against the abuses of power. 

Violence Defiles Us

Vayishlach

Gen. 32:4 - 36:43

 

Précis: As he nears his return to his homeland, Jacob sent (vayishlach) messengers to Esau to ascertain Esau’s state of mind after their 20-year separation. While he awaits a reply, Jacob encounters an “adversary” (most assume an angel) with whom Jacob wrestles through the night. As dawn breaks, the adversary announces that Jacob’s name is to be changed to Israel: “He who wrestles with God.” On the following day, Esau approaches, and despite Jacob’s fears, there is a happy reunion.

            We then read the story of how a local prince rapes Dinah, Jacob’s daughter, and then asks to marry her. Jacob agrees on condition that all of the men of the city are circumcised. While the men are recovering, Jacob’s sons Simon and Levi attack the city and kill all of the inhabitants in revenge for the insult to their sister. Jacob soon travels to Beth-el (the site of his ladder dream), and on the way, Rachel gives birth to Benjamin and dies in childbirth. Thereafter, Isaac’s death is noted, as is his burial by Esau and Jacob. The parasha ends with a genealogy of Esau and his descendants.

         

Gen. 34:33 “And it happened on the third day, while they were recovering, that Jacob’s two sons, Simeon and Levi, Dinah’s brother, each took his sword, and came upon the city unopposed, and they killed every male.”

 

As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks has noted, Dinah is the only Jewish daughter named in the patriarchal narrative (Covenant and Conversation, 11/17/21), and the story here is terrifying.

            Jacob learns of the rape, but does nothing until his sons Shimon and Levi return to him.  The sons come up with a plan to overcome the hostage-taker/rapist: all the male members of the town must all be circumcised. They agree, are of course weakened, and the two sons wreak vengeance on all of the men of the city. Shimon and Levi rescue their sister.

Jacob is horrified. “You have made me odious to the people of the land” (Gen. 34:30). Jacob’s outrage lasts his entire life, when he utters a curse against the two sons: “Simeon and Levi are brothers - their swords are weapons of violence…. Cursed be their anger, so fierce, and their fury, so cruel! " (Gen. 49:5-6)

            This story seems to have no moral message at all. The prince is a rapist, his father fails to discipline him, Shimon and Levi kill everyone, and Jacob seems to remain passive.

            Whether Jacob’s curse against Shimon and Levi was merited became a source of great disagreement among the sages. Maimonides felt that they were justified in their actions, since the other men of the city failed to act and were therefore accomplices. Nachmanides disagrees, suggesting that the principle of collective responsibility does not apply. The debate continues today.

            Sacks notes that text “deliberately deepens the moral ambiguity by refusing to portray even the apparent villains in an unduly negative light”.

            The text refers to the “deceit” of Shimon and Levi, the same word as used to describe Jacob’s taking of the blessing in lieu of Esau. If the story has no moral purpose, why is it told, especially in such detail? Torah means “teaching” or “instruction.” As Sacks reminds us, it is not a history book. He suggests that the true lesson is that “Shechem’s single act of violence against Dinah forced two of Jacob’s sons into violent reprisal, and in the end, everyone was either contaminated or dead. It is indicative of the moral depth of the Torah that it does not hide this terrible truth from us by depicting one side as guilty, the other as innocent. Violence defiles us all. It did then. It does now.”

Inspirational Leadership

 Vayetze

Gen. 28:10-33:3

 

Précis: As Jacob travels towards the household of his uncle Laban, he dreams of a ladder (some translate it as a ramp) to heaven, with angels ascending and descending. He vows to build a great House for God on the spot. Jacob meets and falls in love with Laban’s younger daughter, Rachel. Laban agrees to the match, provided that Jacob works for him for seven years. Laban switches the older daughter, Leah, for Rachel; Jacob works an additional seven years for Rachel’s hand. Jacob then works for Laban another six years, and acquires great wealth and flocks through shrewd husbandry. During the stay with Laban, most of the children of Jacob are born. At the conclusion of the parasha, after tense negotiations with Laban, Jacob leaves with his possessions and family.

 

Gen. 28:16 “And Jacob awaked out of his sleep, and he said, ‘Surely the Lord is in this place; and I knew it not.”’

            Rabbi Sacks (z’l) posed an important question, as cited by Rabbi Karyn Kedar (10 Minutes of Torah, 11/8/21): What made Jacob, and not Abraham or Isaac, the true father of Israel? After all, we are commonly called the “Children of Israel” or at times the “Congregation of Jacob.” Rabbi Kedar suggests that Jacob is the one who struggles the most, who dreams the most, who wrestles with the unknown. Our tradition sees Jacob as a visionary, as in the cited verse. Indeed, some commentators suggest that he actually was dreaming of Sinai, since the numerical equivalent in Hebrew for “ladder” (130) is the same as it is for Sinai. Jacob is a visionary prophet, one whose imperfections actually inspire us, because we share them, and when he overcomes them, it gives us the hope that we, too, can overcome our imperfections. Jacob is what modern management theory calls an “inspirational leader.”  

            We seek inspirational leadership to give us dreams and purpose, to provide energy and enthusiasm. And yet. Inspirational leadership such as Jacob’s can become perverted into a blind obedience to representatives of the darkest forces.

            Jacob’s name was changed to Israel because he struggled with both divine beings and with humans as well. He prevailed. May we prevail against the rising dark forces in our nation and in our world.

Giving Thanks

Toldot

Gen. 25:19-28:9

 

Précis: The introductory phrase to this parasha is “These are the generations (“toldot”) of Isaac.” What follows is the birth of the twins, Esau and Jacob. Their childhood is omitted from the narrative. We learn that Jacob is a quiet man while Esau is a cunning hunter, that their mother Rebecca prefers Jacob, and that Isaac prefers Esau. Esau sells his birthright to Jacob for a bowl of porridge (or lentils). A famine takes place, and Isaac visits the Philistines where he claims that his wife Rebecca is actually his sister (as Abraham did with Sarah in Lech Lecha) and again, the woman escapes unharmed. The story turns to the “great deception” where Jacob pretends to be Esau in order to obtain the primary blessing from his father Isaac. Esau hates Jacob and threatens him; Rebecca urges Jacob to escape to her family in Haran, and he sets off at the conclusion of the parasha.

 

Gen. 26:30 “And he made them a feast, and they did eat and drink.”

            This year, we read this parasha on Thanksgiving weekend. Those who do not look closely at the text may miss this story. After conflict between Isaac and the Philistines, a reconciliation between the parties is achieved. Isaac hosts a special dinner to celebrate the resolution of the dispute.

This is, indeed, an appropriate link between the text and the legend of the Pilgrims' and Indians' first Thanksgiving.

            As I have previously mentioned, hospitality to guests has wide application in our tradition, whether simply to greet strangers, or resolving problems, or comforting mourners. This year, many of us will have a special reason for giving thanks, spending the day with relatives we have not seen since before the pandemic. Happy Thanksgiving and Shabbat Shalom.

 

Respect

 Chayye Sarah

Gen. 23:1-25:18

 

Précis: The parasha begins with the counting the days of the life of Sarah (Chaye Sarah) and with her death. It continues with a detailed description of the purchase of the cave of Machpela by Abraham for a family burial site. Abraham orders his servant to go to Abraham’s ancestral home to obtain a wife for Isaac, and after a series of fulfilled signs, the servant finds Rebecca. Rebecca returns with the servant; she and Isaac meet, fall in love at first sight, and become man and wife. The parasha ends with the death of Abraham, and his burial by Isaac and Ishmael in the family plot.

 

Gen. 24:1-10 “Abraham said to his servant, the elder of his house, that ruled over all he had...that ​‘You shall not take a wife for my son from among the daughters of Canaan, where I dwell, but you shall go to my country, and my kindred, and take a wife for my son Isaac.’ ... And his servant swore to him concerning the matter.”

My friend, Shlomo Ressler, has written beautifully on this particular verse (Weekly D’var, 11/12/14). He notes that Abraham instructs his servant to find a wife for Isaac in his homeland. Why does Abraham prefer a wife from his birthplace for his son Isaac rather than a woman from Canaan? Both were places of idolatry, and Abraham and Isaac were living in Canaan. Would it not have been easier to find a wife nearby?

       Ressler cites Rabbenu Nissim who provides an answer. In Canaan, people mistreated each other. In Abraham’s birthplace, they may have sinned against God (through idol worship), but nevertheless there was respect and love between people. Abraham saw that people in his homeland observed Derech Eretz (respect). And it is respect that is a prerequisite to any lasting relationship​ ​between people.

Welcome the stranger

 Vayera

Gen. 18:1-22:24         

 

Précis: God “appeared” (vayera) to Abraham in the form of three travelers to whom Abraham shows hospitality. They promise the birth of Isaac, overheard by Sarah (who laughs). God reveals His plans for the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and Abraham argues for its salvation for the sake of any innocents who might dwell there. The scene shifts to Sodom where Lot lives, and he and his family are rescued first from an unruly mob and then from the destruction of the city itself. Lot’s wife glances back and turns into the pillar of salt. His daughters, fearing that they are the last females alive, make Lot drunk and engage in sexual relations with him, later giving birth to founders of the tribes of Moab and Ammon (traditional adversaries of the Israelites).

Back with Abraham, Sarah conceives and gives birth to Isaac. She becomes unhappy with the continued presence of Ishmael and prevails upon Abraham to expel Ishmael and Hagar from the household, which he does (after being promised by God that Ishmael, too, will be the father of a great nation). Thereafter, the story continues with the attempted sacrifice of Isaac by Abraham, called “the Akedah” (the Binding of Isaac).

 

Gen. 18:1-3 “Adonai appeared to him at the terebinths of Mamre. And Abraham raised his eyes and saw, and behold, three men were standing before him. He saw, and he ran toward them from the tent flap and bowed to the ground.”

 

Rabbi Kerry M. Olitzky suggests that if people don't feel comfortable in the community, they won't stay long enough to enjoy its richness. (MyJewishLearning.com, 11/4/14).

            Abraham espies 3 “men” (who are perhaps angels) and rushes off to provide hospitality, even though it is only a few days following his own circumcision. After they are fed a rich repast (far more than he had promised), he walks with them as they set out for Sodom.

            Olitzky states that welcoming of strangers should be our model for what it takes to make people feel welcome in our communities, in our homes, congregations and in our communal organizations. Abraham didn't delay, but rushed out to greet the strangers.

            Our tradition informs us that the Torah text does not waste words: they are there  to provide details. Here, the moral lesson is making sure that our guests are made comfortable. However, making guests comfortable is not the end of our task. Unless we continue to engage them, they may not be with us long enough to truly become part of our families and our communities. 

Taking Responsibility

Lech Lecha

Gen. 12:1 -17:27

 

Précis: This parasha, “get you up” or “go yourself” (lech lecha) begins with “the call” of Abram to leave his home and depart for a new land. At God’s command, Abram and Sarai journey to Canaan. When famine strikes, they travel to Egypt, where Sarai is taken into Pharaoh’s harem after Abram calls her his “sister,” but she escapes without harm. They then leave Egypt, with Abram now a rich man. To avoid family squabbles, Abram separates himself from his nephew Lot (who moves to Sodom), but Abram is forced to rescue Lot and reaches a negotiated settlement with the locals. God promises him an heir. Because Sarai is barren, she offers Abram her servant (Hagar), and Hagar gives birth to a son, Ishmael. Abram is then promised a son through Sarai, to be his true heir. Abram’s name is changed to Abraham, and Sarai’s to Sarah, in recognition of the new Covenant with God, which is then symbolized by Abraham’s circumcision.

 

Gen. 13:8-10 “And Abram said to Lot, ‘Let there be no strife between us, and between my herdsmen and yours. Is not the whole land before us? Separate yourself from me. If you take the left hand, I will take the right; if you the right, I will take the left.’”

 

 

(2022) Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (z’l), writing in Covenant and Conversation (11/4/20) ​uses these cited verses to describe the unique character of Abraham. The early history of humanity as set forth in the previous chapters of Genesis describe a series of disappointments. Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit. Cain murdered Abel. Shortly thereafter, the world before the Flood became dominated by violence and was destroyed. Even after the Flood, humanity, in the form of the builders of Babel, were guilty of hubris.

And then Abraham enters the picture, and is “called” to undertake a mission to somewhere unmentioned, and for purposes not explained. Why Abraham? Sacks suggests that prior to his story, the key theme is a failure of responsibility by human beings. Adam blames Eve, and she blames the snake. Cain denies responsibility by asking “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Noah fails the test of responsibility as well by not trying to save anyone other than his immediate family.       

On the other hand, Abraham repeatedly displays personal responsibility. In the verses cited above, Abraham does not blame Lot. He sees a problem and acts. And when Lot is soon thereafter endangered, Abraham gathers a force, and rescues Lot.  In effect, he shows that he is indeed his “brother’s keeper.” And in next week’s reading, Abraham argues with God about the fate of Sodom. Abraham was to become the role model who refused the status quo and challenged it. Abraham was “called” to become the role model and initiator of a new faith, one that would not defend the status quo but to challenge it.
            He was, Sacks concludes, not a “conventional leader.” He was not a king, and there was no nation for him to lead. But he took responsibility. He acted; he didn’t wait for others to act. Judaism is God’s call to personal responsibility, one which we must heed, as Abraham did.

 

Confounded Speech

 Noach

Gen. 6:9-11:32

 

Précis: The story of Noah (Hebrew: Noach) and the Flood appear in this parasha. Noah, called by God, builds the Ark and collects the animals. It rains for forty days and nights. Noah and his family are saved, and afterward leave the Ark, build an altar, and make sacrifices to God. God sets a rainbow as a promise not to destroy mankind again. Noah plants a vineyard, makes wine, and becomes drunk. An odd incident with sexual overtones takes place with his sons. The story of the Tower of Babel is included in this parasha, and it ends with a genealogy of the ancient peoples of the Bible, concluding with Abram.

 

Gen. 11:1-9 “All the earth had the same language…and as man migrated from the east, they settled in the valley… and they said, ‘let us make bricks….and let us build a city and a tower with its top in the sky, and let us make us a name, lest we be scattered all over the earth.’ Adonai came down and said, ‘If, as one people with a single voice this is how they have begun to act, then nothing will be out of their reach. Let us go down and confound their speech.’ Thus, Adonai scattered them across the face of the earth.”

            Here is the familiar story of humanity’s decision to build a tower toward heaven. The Sages seemed to believe that God’s decision to “confound their speech” was to make it impossible for them to be unified and to challenge God’s will. In effect, confounding of speech became the basis for division among the people “scattered across the face of the earth.”

            Is that not where we find ourselves today in America? We may speak the same language, but we don’t comprehend what or how the other person can possibly believe it. The divisions in our society are greater than at any time in my memory (and that includes school integration in the 50’s, VietNam and civil rights struggle in the 60’s, the Women’s Liberation Movement of the 70’s, and etc.). Virtually every issue is now political, and “facts” seem to require quotation marks. Some commentators suggest we have not been so divided since the 1850’s, which of course led to the Civil War.

            And yet. We have just completed a season of hope that atonement can be achieved for harms done, and that there is hope for the future, despite the looming calamities of climate change, income inequality, racial animus, antisemitism, and war. Indeed, this parasha ends with the introduction of Abraham, selected by God to transform humanity. We must pray and take action for such a transformation, because surely it has happened before and must happen again.

Once Again

Bereshit

Gen. 1:1 - 6:8

 

Précis: The first Book of the Torah, Bereshit (Genesis, literally “in the beginning” or “When God began to create”) begins with the familiar story of creation. The world is created in six days and God rests on the seventh. The stories of Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden are included, as is the story of Cain and Abel.

            We begin the annual reading of the Five Books of Moses immediately upon its conclusion. Why? Perhaps it is because with each passing year, our experiences allow us to understand more of what life has to offer, and what the text has to offer. Yohanan Ben Bag Bag said (Pirke Avot 5:25), “Turn it, and turn it, for everything is in it. Reflect on it and grow old and gray with it. Don't turn from it, for you have no better standard of conduct.”

 

Gen. 1:26-27: “Let us make man in our image, according to our likeness, and let them rule over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of heaven, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every moving thing that moves upon the earth. So God created man in His image, In the image of God He created him, male and female He created them.”

 

Gen. 2:7 “The Lord God formed man from the dust of the earth. He blew in his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living being.”

 

As we begin our new cycle of Torah reading and studying, I find that there is always something new for me to consider, as is the case with these verses. Simply stated, there are two different stories about the creation of humanity. In the first (1:26-27) God creates “man” (although the Hebrew might more properly be translated as human, since in Hebrew “adam” can be inclusive of both males and females). In the second creation story (2:7), God clearly forms the male first, and subsequently creates a female companion (help-mate?) from the man’s rib. How do we reconcile these alternative stories?

It does seem to me that the compiler of our text was drawing from two separate oral histories when both tales were included. But what lesson can we infer from them? I suggest that the first iteration was designed to indicate full equality (indeed unity) between male and female human beings. The second was an indicator of the patriarchal society which developed in human history.

So, to those who still believe patriarchy is justified, I urge them to look again at the words of Gen. 1:26-27: “In the image of God He created him, male and female He created them.” 

Joy

 Shabbat Chol Moed Sukkot

On the Shabbat which takes place during Sukkot, we read passages from Exodus, with the action taking place just after the Israelites had danced before the Golden Calf and Moses had shattered the tablets. Moses goes back up the Mountain, prays for the People, and returns 40 days later with a second set of tablets. When he returns, he brings not only a second set of Tablets but also the Thirteen Attributes of God quoted here. 

 

Ex. 34:6-7 “Adonai, Adonai, God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth; keeping mercy to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin…”       

             If this verse sounds familiar, you probably attended services on Yom Kippur just days ago when we recited them over and over again. Obviously, we recited these verses in the hope that our sins would be forgiven due to God’s mercy

            But Sukkot is not only about hope: it is about joy. Indeed, as I’ve noted before, it is a rare time when we are instructed to be joyous. (The Hebrew phrase is “u’smach-tem”).

            Perhaps we are commanded to be joyous because we have so recently been fearful. The introspection of the Days of Awe is not an easy experience, nor is dwelling in a flimsy sukkah comfortable. So, let’s enjoy the holiday, and give thanks that we can in fact find joy in our lives.

Being Remembered

 Ha’azinu

Deut. 32:1-52

 

Précis: The parasha, the shortest in the Five Books, containing only 52 verses, begins with the “Song of Moses,” a hymn sung by Moses within sight of the Promised Land. The song contrasts God’s fidelity with the faithlessness of the People, and the need of the People to learn from their history under God’s care. Moses predicts that Israel’s enemies will be overcome. He is told to climb a mountain to see the Promised Land he will not enter, as he prepares for his death. This is the last parasha read on Shabbat in the annual cycle: the final parasha (V’zot Habracha) is read traditionally on Simchat Torah.

 

Deut. 32:1 “Give ear, oh skies, so that I may speak and let the earth hear what my mouth says.”

 

Moses begins his song with these words, addressed not only to the Israelites but to God and all of humanity. We usually read this parasha with  pity for Moses, whose dreams of leading the People into the Land of Israel are ended. However, on the other hand, Moses has been granted a great privilege: he sees that the work of his lifetime will succeed. He faces death shortly, but he will go there knowing that his life has been worthwhile. He has achieved. He will be remembered.

            During the recently concluded Days of Awe, we have looked closely at our actions over the past year (or years!) and our hopes for the future, without knowing whether or not we will merit remembrance by future generations. Some of us are fortunate enough to have descendants who will honor their memory. Others face the reality that they will not be so fortunate. For them, a hope of being remembered rests on their actions which have affected others; it may be through philanthropy, community building, or being known as founders of Jewish institutions.

            As we approach Sukkot, when we are commanded to be joyful, let us find joy in a life worthily lived, with hope that we have somehow made a difference to others, be they family, friends, or our communities.

            

G'mar tov

 Vayeilech

Deut. 31:1-31

 

Précis: The Israelites are instructed to annihilate the seven Canaanite nations and take possession of the Promised Land. The death of Moses approaches, and he transfers his mantle of leadership to Joshua. Moses orders regular reading of the Law, and then transfers the written Torah into the hands of the Levites for safekeeping in the Ark of the Covenant.

 

Deut. 31:14 “Behold, your days approach that you must die.” 

           

            This parasha is read on the Shabbat between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur (Shabbat Shuvah, or the Sabbath of Returning). Moses reflects upon his life, as we reflect on our own lives.

            Moses is told that his death is near, and that his greatest dream will be denied to him.  It is not hard to notice that death and dreams permeate these Days of Awe. As Rabbi Telushkin has written, “Yom Kippur is Judaism’s annual confrontation with death.”

            “Unitanef tokef” is recited at this time of year, and painfully asks “who will live and who will die?” It concludes that t’shuvah (repentance), tefilla (prayer), and tzedakah (acts of charity or righteousness) can avert the severe decree. May that be the case for all of us, as I wish all a g’mar tov – a good conclusion to our observances of these holy days.

It is not too baffling

 Nitzavim

Deut. 29:9 -30:20

 

Précis: Moses continues to address the People: You stand (nitzavim) this day before Adonai. In his final words to the People, Moses recounts the wonders Adonai had done for them, and calls upon them to remain loyal to God by observing the Covenant. The extent of the relationship is explained: it will survive exile and captivity with a return to the Land. The Torah is an “open book” that is accessible to all. A blessing and a curse have been set before the People, and Moses urges them to choose the blessing, to choose life.

 

Deut. 30:11-14 “Surely, this Instruction which I urge upon you today is not too baffling for you, or beyond reach…. No, it is a thing that is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it.”

 

There are two brief points I would like to make about his verse. First, the Torah and its demands are not so hard to understand. We can make our own interpretations about the text which can resonate in our heart.

Second, we cannot claim ignorance as a defense to our transgressions, because the Instruction is not too baffling.

As we approach Rosh Hashanah after this Shabbat, we may want to keep these ideas in mind: we can understand Torah (broadly considered to include millennia of interpretation by those more learned that we are) as well as we can, and that our duty is to observe what is in our hearts without fear or trepidation.

Telling Stories

 Ki Tavo

Deut. 26:1-29:8

 

Précis: The parasha contains numerous religious mandates regarding the formation of a civil and moral community (including tithes of first fruits and tithes to support the Levites). The People are promised that if they follow God’s instructions, they will be transformed into a “holy people.” They are further instructed that they have a choice in their own destiny: there are blessings and curses (the “Admonition”), and they must  choose between the two, and take the consequences. The parasha ends with Moses reminding the People about all that God had done for them in bringing them from Egypt, providing sustenance, defeating their foes, and giving them the Land.

 

Deut. 26:1-11 “And it shall be, when you come into the land which Adonai has given you, and dwell there, that you will take the first fruit of the ground…and place it in a basket...and go to a place that Adonai will choose…And you will come to the priest…and say to him, ‘my father was a wandering Aramean, and he went to Egypt, and there became a great nation…And the Egyptians dealt harshly with us…and we cried to Adonai…and He heard our voices…and brought us forth with a strong hand…and brought us to this place, flowing with milk and honey…and now I have brought the first of the fruit of this land which You, Adonai, have given me…’ And you will rejoice in all that Adonai has given you…”

 

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks has written about how this particular text is transformative, making the Jewish storytellers.  There is importance in narrative to a moral life. We are essentially story-telling animals, and through these foundational stories of our ancestors, we learn how we are to act and behave. The great questions of life – “Who are we?” “Why are we here?” “What is our task?” – are best answered by narrative. The Torah is not a theological treatise, but a series of linked stories from Abraham and Sarah’s journey from Ur to Moses leading the Children of Israel out of Egypt. As Sacks suggests, “Judaism is less about truth as system than about truth as story. And we are part of that story. That is what it is to be a Jew.”
            While much of D’varim is Moses’ recitation of the narrative, it goes even further in this parasha with these verses. Merely bringing fruits to the Temple would be insufficient. Each person was to recite a specific statement beginning with the following words  (also found in the Haggadah): “My father was a wandering Aramean."

This becomes an obligation of each member of the People to recite the origin story. While D’varim repeatedly demands that we are to “remember,” here we go a step beyond, and narrate the story we are remembering.

             By reciting the prayer, we acknowledge that God is part of our history, and we are part of a Covenant. In effect, the Jews become the first historians centuries before the Greeks.   

            If we think about the United States’ founders, they also created a national  story, based on the idea of a covenant between the People and its government.  As Sacks suggests, a “covenantal narrative is always inclusive, the property of all its citizens, newcomers as well as the home-born. It says to everyone, regardless of class or creed: this is who we are. It creates a sense of common identity that transcends other identities.”
            Moses made us a nation of storytellers, bound by collective responsibility. This covenant is shared among all Jews, regardless of their denomination or affiliation.  Americans, too, should be a nation of storytellers who begin their narrative with “We the People.”  

You must not remain indifferent

 

Ki Tetze

Deut. 21:10 - 25:19

 

Précis:  The parasha might be subtitled “entering society” because it describes the creation of a just and moral social network. It begins with the phrase “when you go forth” (ki tetze) to battle. This parasha, according to Maimonides, contains 72 mitzvot (commandments). Although they seem unrelated, they all deal with the morals and values that God wanted to be deeply implanted in the Israelites’ society. They cover a wide variety of topics, from family life, human kindness, respect for property and animals, the safety of others, sexual relationships, escaped slaves, financial loans and charging interest, keeping promises, and remembering to blot out the name of one of Israel’s greatest enemies. This assortment of commands included requirements that there be sex-distinct clothing; that mother birds not be separated from their eggs; that roof-tops have parapets; that seeds not be mixed in a field, and that “tzitzit” (fringes) be worn on garments.

 

Deut. 22:1-3 “If you see your fellow’s ox or sheep gone astray do not ignore it; you must take it back to your fellow. If you fellow’s does not live near you or you do not know who he is, you shall bring it home and it shall remain with you until your fellow claims it; then you shall give it back to him You shall do the same with his ass; you shall do the same with his garment; and so too shall you do with anything that your fellow loses and you find; you must not remain indifferent.”

 

While these verses stress one’s obligation to safeguard or return the property of another, I wanted to focus on the final phrase: “you must not remain indifferent.” As we approach the High Holy Days, we must not remain indifferent to the harms we have caused others, and we must not remain indifferent to sincere requests from others to atone for harms they have done to us.

            On another level, as I write these words on Labor Day 2022, I want to add two additional thoughts. First, we cannot remain indifferent to those who have yet to find economic stability after the massive dislocations in the work force caused by Covid. While employment seems to have been restored to pre-pandemic levels, the fact is that income inequality remains staggering, and recent news articles have indicated that more than one-half of American households cannot afford an unexpected expense of $500. They need our help.

            Second, Labor Day is the traditional start to the election season, as campaigning ramps up towards November. In the face of the repeated lawlessness of the past president and his insurrectionist supporters, in the face of the continued lies and outright hatred expressed by many of his cultists, and in the face of a Supreme Court which has been hypocritically manipulated by Senate Republicans into a body which has rejected the constitutional rights of women and those of faith traditions other than their majority’s own, we may not, we cannot, remain indifferent.

 

In memory of Aunt Henri Dobin (z'l), who passed away at age 111. May her memory be a blessing

Shoftim

Deut. 16:18-21:9

 

Précis: The parasha Shoftim (literally, “judges”) is devoted primarily to various themes of justice, and includes warnings against false testimony, idol worship, and the dangers posed by mortal kings. The parasha also warns the people against false prophets, magicians, soothsayers and witches. It establishes requirements for cities of refuge in the Promised Land. In short, the parasha is devoted to ways to create a just society in the Land of Israel.

 

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (z’l) has written about the kinds of leadership found in this parasha (Covenant and Conversation, 8/11/21) These are the “three crowns” of Judaism: the priesthood, the kingship and Torah. He notes that this informed the American Founders of the need to separate powers, an issue which we continue to argue about.  In biblical times, leadership was distributed among the king, the priests, and the prophets. Each had a specific role to play in societal governance. Kings were secular rulers, the Priests were the religious leaders, and the prophets were there to remind the other leaders (and the people) of the correct path ahead. Prophets were mandated by God to be critical of the corruptions of power and to remind the people of their religious vocation whenever they drifted from it. 
            The text tells us that God is permitting a king for the Israelites so that they can be like other nations. This is unusual, because the Israelites are usually commanded to be different.  This leads to a rabbinical suspicion of a monarchy altogether. The text also reminds what the king cannot do, rather than what he is permitted to do. The king is instructed to keep a scroll of the law next to him. Finally, the king is commanded to be humble. These statements indicate with certainty that the king is not above the law.
            Sacks concludes that “To be a Jewish leader means spending time to study both Torah and chochmah (wisdom): chochmah to understand the world as it is, Torah to understand the world as it ought to be. Leaders should never stop learning. That is how they grow and teach others to grow with them.”

In honor of my wife of 50 years

It is with great joy and gratitude that I prepared this d'var in honor of the 50th wedding anniversary this Shabbat to my wonderful wife Abby.

Re’eh

Deut. 11:26 - 16:17

 

Précis: Moses begins by quoting God, saying “Behold (re’eh), I set before you a blessing and a curse this day.” The blessing flows from observance of the laws and the curses result from violations. A concern with idolatry permeates the following verses. The parasha explains that there will be a single site for sacrifices. A test for a false prophet and the punishment of an idolatrous city are included. The parasha then shifts to other subjects: a prohibition against self-mutilation, the biblical basis of the laws of kashrut, tithing so that the needs are met for the Levites, the "stranger, the fatherless, and the widow.” Remission of debts, freeing of Hebrew slaves, and the dedication of firstborn cattle are discussed, as are the commandments for the observance of Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot.

 

Deut. 11:26–28 “Behold I set before you a blessing and a curse this day; a blessing if you obey the commandment…and a curse, if you will not obey the commandments…”

            The Hebrew verbs are very important in this verse: “behold” (re’eh) is a singular verb, and the phrase “before you” (“lif’neichem”) is plural. We begin with the singular and end with the plural. According to the Talmud, the mitzvot were given to the Jews as a single group (hence the singular verb), but the phrase ends with a plural to remind us that each individual must decide whether to accept the blessing or the curse.

Accepting the “rules” is necessary for any organization. Putting the interests of the community above one’s own needs is essential for success.

The same is also true – in fact even more true - in a successful marriage. After 50 years of marriage to my wife Abby, we’ve learned one most important lesson: it is not what matters between us, but rather that we deal with all matters together. Marriage is not for the weak, but rather for the strong. It takes strength of character, strength of caring, and the ultimate strength of love to cede one’s wants and needs to maintain the glorious partnership we call marriage.

When we conclude the reading of a Book of the Torah, we chant “Hazak, Hazak, v’nitkazek.” This may be translated as “Be strong, be strong, and let us strengthen one another.” As Abby and I close the Book of the first 50 years of our marriage, so may it be with us. 

Are we grasshoppers as well?

 Sh’lach

Num. 13:1-15:41

 

Précis: Moses is ordered to “send out” (sh’lach l’cha) spies to examine the land. Representatives of each tribe go out, report on its bounty, but also report about its fearsome inhabitants. The People are frightened, and their “murmuring” turns into something close to panic. God tells Moses that He will destroy the People, but Moses intercedes; the People are sentenced to spend 40 years in the wilderness. The parasha then returns to matters concerning the Tabernacle, with a discussion of the offering for unintentional sins. Near its end, the parasha discusses the wearing of tzitzit, a paragraph which is part of the traditional recitation of the Sh’ma. This is the 27th of 54 parshiot, marking the half-way point in the yearly reading.

 

Num. 13:33 “We looked like grasshoppers to ourselves, and so we must have looked to them.”

God has decided that the generation which left Egypt lacks the necessaries to enter the Promised Land. After all, there has been nothing but murmuring and complaints. The miracles they have seen and experienced are insufficient to provide the faith needed to enter the land.  Another generation is needed. But is even another generation sufficient to instill faith? Much can happen in a single generation.

And that brings us to today's Supreme Court rulings. For more than two generations, a woman's control of her body has been a constitutional right. Now this current Court, packed with two stolen Justices by Mitch McConnell, has decided that this constitutional right is to be eliminated. And at a time of unprecedented mass shootings, this Court has eased state regulation of guns, by somehow finding that the 2nd Amendment allows people to carry guns outside of their homes.

Many of us today feel like the spies, who saw themselves as grasshoppers, unable to take any action. What can we do? Are we condemned to wait for another generation to arise to protect the rights of women and to protect our very lives? I wish I knew.

Forgiveness

 B’haalot’cha

Num. 8:1 - 12:16

 

Précis: The parasha begins with a description of the making of the seven-branched menorah, a central Jewish symbol. Next, the Levites are given specific directions for their duties. The parasha returns to narrative with a recounting of a second Passover celebration (required because some of the Israelites had been ritually impure when the first anniversary of Passover was celebrated). Following is a discussion of the making of silver trumpets. The cloud of God’s Presence lifts, and the march of the People through the wilderness of Sinai begins, led by the Ark of the Covenant. The people began to murmur, this time about a lack of meat. God provides, but the People are struck with a plague. This time, even Miriam and Aaron seem to have complaints about Moses, cast in terms of their critique about his “Cushite woman.” Moses is stressed by the demands of leadership.

 

Num. 12:13 “And Moses cried out to Adonai, saying ‘Oh God, heal her!’”

            In this verse, Moses pleads with God to heal Miriam from her leprosy, a punishment from God because of her criticism of Moses “about the Cushite woman” and her statement that she, too, merits a direct connection with God.

             Here is a sincere prayer by Moses (one of the very few explicit prayers noted in the Five Books). What is remarkable is that Moses has been wronged both personally and professionally by his older sister, and yet he pleads for her cure.  

            This is a lesson for all of us. Across the world, we see a rise in antisemitism (including within the United States) and we have all observed (and perhaps experienced) the “punishments” created by racism, sexism, and other baseless hatred. If Moses could pray for the cure of his sister under these circumstances (thereby forgiving her), can we not better treat our fellow human beings?

            This is not a matter of loving one’s enemies (which actually has no real foundation in Jewish tradition). Instead, it is an expression of the importance of forgiveness when others have wronged us.

The Golden Mean

Naso

Num. 4:21-7:89

 

Précis: The parasha (the longest of the weekly readings) opens with a continuation of the listing of the Levitical families and their duties regarding the transportation of holy vessels. This is followed by a brief commandment concerning restitution for wrongs. The parasha then turns to a mysterious procedure for testing a wife’s fidelity when questioned by her jealous husband. Next, we have a discussion of the laws of Nazerites, and the recitation of the “Priestly Benediction.” The parasha concludes with the presentation of identical gifts by each tribe for the dedication of the Altar.

 

Num. 6:2-21 “The Lord said to Moses, ‘Speak to the Israelites and say to them ‘If a man or woman wants to make a special vow, a vow of dedication to the Lord as a Nazirite, they must abstain from wine and other fermented drink… During the entire period of their Nazirite vow, no razor may be used on their head. They must be holy until the period of their dedication to the Lord is over; they must let their hair grow long. Throughout the period of their dedication to the Lord, the Nazirite must not go near a dead body…. Now this is the law of the Nazirite when the period of their dedication is over. They are to be brought to the entrance to the tent of meeting.  There they are to present their offerings to the Lord: … a ram for a sin offering… together with their grain offerings and drink offerings...”

 

Rabbi Sacks (z'l), writing in Covenant and Conversation (6/12/19), discusses the laws regarding the Nazarite, noting that an individual who undertakes this status observes special rules of holiness and abstinence.  He notes that left unsaid in the text is why a person should undertake these vows.  The text is also ambiguous, noting that the Nazarite is “holy” yet must bring a sin offering at the end of the period. This ambiguity created sharp divisions among the sages, as to whether or not the Nazir was praiseworthy.

            Does our tradition endorse such asceticism? That is not a simple question to answer, since at various times, some segments of our People indeed engaged in and prized self-denial.

            It appears that asceticism may have entered Jewish thought from the outside, including various movements at the beginning of the common era which endorsed self-denial, including some Greek and Persian thinkers.

            Our received text, beginning with creation, consistently calls God’s creation as “good” and therefore to be cherished and not avoided. Sacks notes that Maimonides saw that there was in fact not a single way to lead a “good” life, but there were two extremes: the way of the saint (chassid) and the way of the sage (chacham).
            Maimonides suggests that we should avoid extremes, but that a society needs both characteristics. We each should strive to live a “golden mean,” which is a balance highlighted by moderation. As Sacks notes, Maimonides knew that there are twin dangers: too much or too little.

            This is a reminder for us today, in a society which appears to be ever more extreme in its perception of the “other side.” This is not to suggest that we engage in “whataboutism.” To the contrary, we must strive for a life (and a society) of balance. That balance, our tradition reminds us, is to be holy, because God is holy. And holiness is defined in our text as being responsible for one another, and to see to the needs of all.

A wilderness of our own

 

B’midbar

Num. 1:1 - 4:20

 

Précis: B’midbar is an amalgamation of the narrative of wilderness wanderings (including the stories of the spies, Korach’s rebellion, Balaam’s donkey, and the sin of Moses), sacrificial requirements, the establishment of Israel’s moving camp, and census data.

                As B’midbar (“in the wilderness”) begins, Moses is directed to take a census (“take the number”) from which the English name (Numbers) of the Book derives. A detailed listing of the numbers of each tribe follows; each tribe is apportioned a particular location in the camp. A listing of the Levitical families then follows, together with the beginning of a discussion of their duties.                

                B’midbar, according to Rabbi Plaut, continues the narrative from Exodus (which was largely interrupted by Leviticus), and begins about a year after the liberation, covering the wandering in the desert. He notes that details are provided for only the first and last years, with the “middle” 38 left mostly to our imaginations. The focus of the Book appears to “point to this moment when Israel is poised to take possession of its inheritance.” 

 

Num. 1:1 - 2 “And Adonai spoke to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai… saying, ‘Take the sum of the congregation of the children of Israel, by their families, by their father’s houses, according to the number of names, every male, by their polls.’”

 

The Israelites are marching through the wilderness. They do not know what to anticipate, and life is suddenly filled with new terrors (What will I eat? What will I drink? Where are we going? Is the enemy going to kill us?). There is no real surprise that the recently freed slaves seek to return to the imagined safety of Egypt.

            So, God tells Moses to take a census of the people. Every person is to be counted, without exception. Therefore, each person counts.

           Americans are once again living with virtually daily reminders of gun violence and massacres. We live in a nation where young men who cannot legally buy a beer can purchase a rifle, and hours later destroy the lives of children and their teachers in a school, or commit the most virulent hate crimes against minorities. There are more guns than there are people in the United States.

            No other nation in the world suffers from this kind of gun violence. Is this how we establish American "exceptionalism?" 

            So, what does this have to do with B’midbar? Moses was ordered to take a census in which every person counts. The dead in our schools, hospitals, places of worship, and shopping marts also count. We are living with two pandemics: Covid and gun violence.  We must, each of us, also count. The polls tell us that an overwhelming number of Americans support reasonable gun safety measures. But we don't seem to vote for politicians who will enact such necessary laws. I am almost, but not entirely, hopeless. The Israelites made it through the wilderness, and I pray that we can make it through this wilderness of our own making.

Beware

 Bechukotai

Lev. 26:3 - 27:34

 

Précis: The parasha, the final parasha in Vayikra, begins with a statement promising blessing if the People follow Adonai’s ways. The blessings are discussed in detail. But, if the People disobey, terrible punishments will be visited upon them, and these, too, are listed in agonizing detail. The Book of Leviticus then concludes (as it opened) with regulations regarding the upkeep of the Sanctuary, from voluntary tithes, land gifts, firstborn redemption, and the tithes of flocks.

 

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, z’l, describes the blessings and curses of this parasha (Covenant and Conversation, 5/14/20). He notes that when the Bible was written, a nation’s fate mirrored the conduct of the nation. If people behaved well, the nation would prosper. If they behaved badly, bad things would happen. He cites Martin Luther King who paraphrased our prophets, “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.” Not always immediately but ultimately, good is rewarded with good, bad with bad.
            Sacks characterizes the curses as “savage eloquence,” noting that the effect is intensified by the repeated hammer blows: “If after all this … if you remain hostile … if in spite of these things … if in spite of this.” The word keri, he suggests, is key to the whole passage, and is repeated seven times. Since it appears nowhere else in the whole Tanach, its meaning is uncertain. It may mean rebelliousness, obstinacy, indifference, hard-heartedness, reluctance or being-left-to-chance. But the basic principle is clear. If you act toward Me with keri, says God, you will be devastated.
            Sacks asks why the curses are so much longer and stronger than the blessings? His answer: God loves and forgives, but only if when we do wrong, we acknowledge the fact, express remorse, make restitution to those we have harmed, and repent.

            Traditional sources suggest that we take the curses as warnings.   As with the Book of Jonah, Sacks suggests that a prophecy is not a prediction but a warning, describing a fearful future in order to persuade the people to avert it.                                        

            While ours is a religion of love and forgiveness, it is also a religion of justice, and fear of the bad is an inducement, a motivator of the good. When we as a society make wrong choices, we lose our solidarity. When we as a society fail to consider the consequences of our actions (see, e.g., gun violence, global warming, financial crashes, the rise of totalitarianism) the curses of this parasha are made manifest. As Sacks concludes, the message of this parasha is: “Beware. Take note. Don’t function on autopilot. Once a society begins to fall apart, it is already too late. Avoid the bad. Choose the good. Think long and choose the road that leads to blessings.”