We are only caretakers

B’Har

Lev. 25:1 - 26:2

Précis: The parasha begins with a description of the Sabbatical Year and the Jubilee (Yovel) Year. In the 50^th (Jubilee) Year, we are to “proclaim liberty throughout the land” and property is restored to its ancestral owners. The parasha continues with the prohibition against unlimited slavery, as well as the rules for the treatment of those who are slaves.

Leviticus, 25: 23-24 “Furthermore the land must not be sold beyond reclaim, for the land is mine, you are but resident aliens under my authority. Therefore, throughout the land you hold, you must provide redemption for the land.”

           

            This verse is a reminder that wealth ultimately comes from God; at best we are temporary caretakers. This is part of the concept of the Sabbatical and Jubilee years which are contained in this parasha.

            While our American tradition is that wealth is a sign of our individual achievement and hard work (“I made that!”), the Jewish concept stresses that we are God’s beneficiaries. The American ideal suggests that wealth is something we have earned, is ours, and we are entitled to use it as we see fit. The Jewish concept suggests that because we are not the true owners of our possessions (they are on loan from God), we are not free to use our wealth and possessions in any way we chose; our use is subject to moral and ethical demands, particularly to the less fortunate among us.

            If you believe I am suggesting that there is a conflict between the American and Jewish concept of ownership and wealth, you are correct. Since we (at least most of us reading these words) are both American and Jewish, we are required to face this difference squarely and honestly. In the context of the current political discourse, when slogans and bumper stickers take the place of thoughtful debate, I ask whether it is possible to reconcile these two points of view. Name calling (Socialist! Fascist!) does not advance the discussion in which we, as thoughtful Jewish Americans, must engage.

            If we really are trying to apply the Jewish tradition to our daily lives, and recommend these principles to others as a basis for creating a more just society, we first need to answer the question ourselves: what is the obligation of those with means to those in need? What policy ramifications does this suggest in terms of taxes and government expenditures?

            I do not offer answers here, my friends. I’m just asking questions which I wish  our current candidates would discuss with care and thoughtfulness.

Don't Cut Corners

Emor

Lev. 21:1 - 24:23

Précis: This parasha is divided into four sections. First, it reviews procedures for the Priests to use to remain ritually pure. Second, it outlines the festival and holiday calendar. Third, it explains the use of the oil and the bread on display on the altar. Finally, there is a brief narrative about a blasphemer who is condemned to death.

Lev. 23:22 “And when you reap the harvest of your land, you will not wholly reap the corner of the field, and you will not gather the gleaning of your harvest; you will leave them for the poor, and for the stranger: I am Adonai your God.”

We find in the midst of this week’s reading (which contains almost 10% of the Torah’s enumerated mitzvot) the command to leave the corners of our fields for the poor, a proof text forming the basis for the ethical demands of tzedakah (righteous giving). Yet just last week, the same command appeared, and here it is again, repeated virtually word for word. Why this repetition?

            Nahama Leibowitz suggests that the harvest festivals, the calendar for which also appear in this week’s reading, were times of joy, during which it was easy to forget those in need. She adds that a successful harvest could lead the farmer to believe that the bounty was a result of his own work, and not a blessing from God. This verse is a reminder that we must share God’s blessings with those less fortunate than ourselves.

            It should be noted that in the phrase “your land” the word “your” is in the plural form. Our text implies that ownership of the land is in the plural, what we might call “common” land. When we read it that way, the gleaners are not getting charity from the farmer: they are sharing in what belongs to them, as a gift from God. To emphasize this point, our tradition states that even if the harvest is poor, the farmer still has the obligation to leave the corners for gleaners.

            Today, we live in economically demanding times (at least for many). Those of us who are blessed with the means to do so must share with those less fortunate than ourselves. Even those whose “harvest” has been modest have an obligation to help those further down “the ladder.” (As an aside, there is within our tradition a mandate to give sufficient alms to a beggar such that he, in turn, may help another.)

            What this says about the state of our current political “debate” is important. Whether one is a rock-ribbed conservative or a wild-eyed socialist, it is a necessity that ways (and means) be found to help the least well off in our society. The ways of achieving that result may (and do!) vary greatly, but we must agree on the goal which our tradition sets forth with such emphasis this week.