Keep Your Word, Keep the Torah!

Parshat Ki Tetze

by Rabbi Avi Billet

When one breaks down Devarim 23:24, properly, according to its cantillation marks, a proper translation could be "What has come out of your lips you must keep and carry out (or "do"); as you have vowed to Hashem your God a gift, that you have spoken with your mouth."

Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan translated the same verse as follows: "But when you have spoken, be careful of your word and keep the pledge that you have vowed to God your Lord." And Artscroll: "You shall observe and carry out what emerges from your lips, just as you vowed a voluntary gift to Hashem, your God, whatever you spoke with your mouth."

I like Rabbi Kaplan's "translation" mostly because it is not a translation. It is clearly an "interpretation" which aims to make the confusing language of the verse easily understood. Having said that, Rabbi Kaplan ignores the fact that following the rules of "munach etnachta" (the connecting cantillation mark that sometimes - and in this case - leads to the main break in the middle of the verse), the words "you must keep and carry out" (or "be careful and keep") must go together.

This is why when the Machsom L'fi people (an organization committed to fighting the evils of Lashon Hara and gossip) take this verse to indicate a need to guard your lips from evil speech (a nice sentiment, indeed), they are taking the verse completely out of context, and are not even presenting it properly. The intent of the verse is for a person to be careful to keep promises. It is not a referendum against lashon hara. [There are other such referendums, of course, but this is not one of them.]

A grammarian can literally have a field-day with this verse. Does one have to keep a vow that has already been made? A vow that you will have made? Or a vow that will be made in the future? What is the proper tense of the sentence? What is the intent behind the vow of which the verse speaks?

Many focus on the word "nedava," as in a voluntary gift, to suggest the verse is referring to animal sacrifices, or other Temple-worthy gifts (Rosh Hashana 6a). The Midrash and Talmud go so far to include gifts that one has merely thought of giving in one's heart – the word "nedava" is so often attached to a "n'div lev" that even just a feeling of dedication could be sufficient to make one obligated to follow through (Shavuot 26b). This is not the literal meaning of the verse, of course, but which institution will turn down gifts people pledge in their hearts?

In a sense, the message is to be careful of what you say – not so much because it might be evil, but because it may end up costing you a lot of money. And if you pledge or make a financial commitment to the Temple – your word is literally your bond. This is the general approach of Ibn Ezra and Rabbenu Bachaye. Chizkuni looks at the literal words attaching a traditional warning to the term "tishmor" (to guard) as if to say "Be careful and watch over what you have said you will not do" while the "V'asita" (and you should do) is a positive assertion to "do what you said you will do – as long as it is for God's sake."

Rabbenu Bachaye interprets the verse on three different levels: Pshat (the simple meaning), Midrashic, followed by a Kabbalistic interpretation, the latter of which will now be presented: What comes out of your mouth parallels what comes from God's mouth – just as God does not need to swear He will do something He says He'll do, every person should fulfill everything that comes out of his mouth, even if "he did not promise."

This verse is an allusion to the covenant of the mouth, which refers to the power of speech that only humans possess. The mouth is the seventh of the openings of the face – two ears, two eyes, two nostrils and the mouth. God chose the #7 – He built 7 skies and chose the 7^th (for his domicile); he made 7 days and chose the 7^th for His special day; and He chose the mouth to be the greatest as it sings His praises (a warning not to misuse the mouth comes in Vayikra 22:32)

When Israel violated or went back on their word, Moshe said to them "Why have you gone against God's Word?" (Bamidbar 14:41) This is why it says, "Guard what comes out of your mouth," as if to say "You must fulfill what comes out of your mouth." 

Rabbenu Bachaye concludes his kabbalistic interpretation referring to the promise the people made in donating to the Mishkan. But he also mentions that the people heard the Ten Commandments.

While he does not extend his thought further, I think he gives us enough of a hint of the identity of the promise referred to in the verse, that "was made" – as in, in the past tense.

When the people stood at Sinai and collectively cried out "We will do and we will listen," they were essentially declaring a binding allegiance to God and His Torah for themselves and their posterity.

The instruction to "Guard and Do what comes out of your mouth" is a reminder of a commitment to the Torah, as it was originally intended in the manner transmitted and eventually recorded in the Talmud by the scholars and teachers of Israel. The "gift" vowed to God, perhaps even "voluntarily" is our unchanging dedication to Him. It may have begun as volunteering, but, as Rabbenu Bechaye says, your word is your bond, even if you never said, "I promise."

As we inch closer to Rosh Hashana, let us pray that the collective Jewish people will remember the declaration of our ancestors and strive to keep our ancestors word as we rededicate ourselves once again to keeping the our promise to keep the Torah.

A Prophet Like Me

Parshat Shoftim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The shofar sound this past Sunday began the wake-up call of the month of Elul that reminds us that Rosh Hashana will soon be upon us. As I look back at notes from previous years, I have found that the commentary of Rabbenu Bachaye on these coming parshas has found an important place in my own Elul and Teshuvah-focused experience. This week we will look at one of his important teachings.

           

In the context of reminding the Israelite nation not to follow the influence of the necromancers of the nations that surround you, a seemingly uncharacteristic comment escapes Moshe's lips: "A prophet from among you, from your brethren, such as myself, will be whom Hashem your God establishes for you – listen to him [the prophet]." (18:15)

In Hebrew, the "comment" is all of one word: "Kamoni," or "such as myself."

Many commentaries suggest that this comment refers to the previous word "me'achekha" – from your brethren – that Moshe is saying any prophet you will have will be from the Israelite nation. Not only that, but unlike some of the "prophets" who were discussed last week (Chapter 13), he will teach you the ways of God and will not steer you in the direction of idolatry or the occult, "kamoni" – meaning "along the lines as I have properly led you."

            

Rabbenu Bachaye points out, for example, that one might think "Achekha" includes a prophet from the children of Eisav or Ishmael. This is another reason why Moshe is clear to say "Kamoni," only from a direct Israelite lineage.

            

All these disclaimers are nice, but the fact remains that if Moshe needed to bring an example, he could have just as easily used his brother's name, or he could have pointed at Yehoshua as he did in Bamidbar 27 and Devarim 1 and 3 saying, "A prophet… such as Yehoshua who will be taking over when I am gone." Why did he say what seems like a hubris statement – "You'll want a prophet like me"? After all, if we know Moshe was the humblest of people (Bamidbar 12:3), certainly this comment is out of character!

            

Not one to miss an opportunity, the Baal Haturim notices that "Kamoni" (כמוני) has the same numerical value as "Anav" (humble) (ענו) (both equal 126). Moshe does not want to say "I am humble." But he does want to suggest, in code, what is a good quality of a leader.

Humility is not defined as thinking you are a nobody. Humility means knowing who you are, and not making a big deal about it. It means understanding your role, as you understand that you are a nobody in comparison to God. Most importantly, a humble leader knows that circumstances have brought him or her to a position that commands respect or is an inspiration to others, but it's the position which is respected before the person filling it earns the respect – based on one's deeds.

            

Rabbenu Bachaye explains Moshe's word-choice as follows. "The prophet should be like me, meaning he should follow my precedent. He should not add nor subtract or uproot a single mitzvah from the Torah, unless he is an established prophet and the specific circumstance warrants it (eg Elijah bringing sacrifices on Mt Carmel during the time of the Temple). Ours is not a religion in which we believe in Moshe as prophet and leader on account of the signs and wonders he did. It is all on account of our having heard God's word directly from Him [at Sinai], as did Moshe. We know it, we were witnesses to it, as it says (Shmot 19:9), 'Behold I am coming to you in a thick cloud so that the nation will hear when I speak with you, and they will believe in you [as My chosen leader] forever.'"

            

Rabbenu Bachaye quotes Maimonides (Foundations of the Torah Chapter 8) as the source for his position, and Maimonides continues the point saying every sign Moshe did was to get them to follow him to Sinai. But every sign also gets people thinking "Maybe this guy is a magician." The Sinai experience changed all of that forever.

            

When Moshe says, "God will appoint a prophet Kamoni," he is saying "It will be so clear in your eyes who is a true prophet, because he stands for Torah, is guided by the Torah, and doesn’t change the Torah." He needs to use himself, and not Aharon or Yehoshua, as an example, because it was Moshe who was on Sinai. This is not arrogance. This is knowing and understanding what his role was, is and remains forever.

            

Judaism has always been a religion in which the Written and Oral Torahs are sacrosanct. In different circles, and across a large spectrum, it has become about many other things. Chumras, how "frum" you are, what clothes you wear, how you look, where you send your kids to yeshiva/school, social action, social justice, right wing politics (more common in observant communities), left-wing politics (more common in non-observant communities), and "tikkun olam."

            

The shofar and Elul remind us, as does Moshe, that we need to look to and follow the examples of leaders and leadership that help us maintain our focus – a Jewish experience that follows the model set at Sinai, of a commitment to and observance of God's word, in which nothing (beyond certain social changes as fitting to the world in which we live) is added to or subtracted from the Torah.

Capital Punishment is Mercy

I first wrote about capital punishment after the Lockerbie bomber was released from prison.
I stand by what I wrote then in this latest installment on the subject.

Parshat Re'eh

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The Torah shuns violence, values life, and has embedded in most Jewish hearts and minds through the generations that violence is not our way. The establishment of the State of Israel and the needs for vigilance and survival have changed this attitude somewhat, but even so, the Jewish people are still held to a higher standard – by others and by ourselves – and will seek diplomacy and other options before resorting to violence as a last option.

           

This makes the section of Devarim 13:7-12 quite troubling. In simple terms, the Torah describes a case in which an individual from your community, who may be quite close to you, chooses to act as a missionary for another god or religion, and tries to get you to worship that other god.

            

The Torah says, "Do not agree with him, and do not listen to him. Do not let your eyes pity him, do not show him any mercy, and do not try to cover up for him, since you must be the one to put him to death. Your hand must be the first against him to kill him, followed by the hands of the other people. Pelt him to death with stones, since he has tried to make you abandon God your Lord, who brought you out of Egypt and the House of Bondage. When all Israel hears about it, they will be afraid, and they will never again do such an evil thing among you."

            

Before we continue, three disclaimers are in order.

1. Since the destruction of the Temple 2000 years ago, the Jewish people do not have a system that would allow for such a sequence of "justice" to play out.

2. The Talmud (Makkot 7) discusses the propriety of a court executing capital punishment. Some felt capital punishment should be a very rare occurrence, while others felt that all the criteria necessary to obtain such a verdict would be so difficult to achieve that a court would never be able to execute someone.

3. Perhaps our contemporary society views such an approach as barbaric. After all, you're going to take someone's life because he or she has expressed an opinion about which god you should worship?

            

In truth, this is really a question of which sins or misdeeds can so remove a person from society that said society agrees by consensus that the death penalty is in order.

            

I think the most blatant hint in our case comes from the inclusion of the phrase "who brought you out of Egypt and the House of Bondage" in13:11. The verse could have easily ended with the words "tried to make you abandon God your Lord!" Mentioning Egypt is the most direct reminder that the god this person is suggesting you abandon is God who loves you, Who cares for you, Who saved you from Egypt; God Who made miracles for you, gave you the Torah and asked for allegiance in return.

            

This is worse than a person asking you to abandon your parents – this is The God without Whom your parents would not exist, and you would not exist.

            

The Torah would seem to suggest that while evil has many faces, the "friend" trying to pull you away from God embodies pure evil. In the book of Devarim, the Torah emphasizes at least ten times the need to eradicate evil from amongst the Israelite nation. It speaks of a certain level of conformity – but in all cases the vilified act is one which, at its core, either stands to undermine a civil and just society, which is partially defined by the laws that contribute heavily to the moral fabric and order that is the essence of the Torah's instruction, or is a direct affront to God.

            

How do we justify putting this person to death? The Torah Temimah (13:9) records a number of Talmudic and Midrashic passages that address the seeming contradiction between "Loving your neighbor," for example, and, in this case, putting him to death. If the person's deeds take him out of the category of being your neighbor, there is no contradiction – your non-neighborly-neighbor seeks your destruction. And therefore has opened himself to the same.

             

But it is Rabbenu Bachaye who instructs us as to how we should properly view the death penalty: "The Torah is all mercy and it comes from the Merciful One. When it tells us to take the life of one who is guilty, it never intends for us to do so in a vengeful manner. That would be the excuse were we trying to train ourselves to be cruel. But the 'revenge' is meant to be merciful: to have mercy on everyone else. This is why it says 'Don't let your eyes pity him' and 'All of Israel will hear and see and will not continue to do this any more' and 'you must eradicate evil from your midst.'"

There are organizations in Israel which exist specifically to counter missionary efforts in Israel – they can take up the debate whether missionaries who target Jews are the embodiment of evil. Perhaps Jews (or former Jews) who prey on weak Jews and try to entice them away from Judaism are the worst kind of missionaries.

            

But when it comes to the death penalty in general (and no, I am not advocating for missionaries to be treated that way), just as the Torah is not looking to train its adherents to become cruel, it doesn’t put much stock in the notion that "the civil society does not participate in the cruel act of capital punishment" or in those who question a society's right to rid itself of evil people. If evil is allowed to live, the Torah argues, what deters other people from committing similar evil acts?

            

How many evil people, particularly terrorists and murderers, have "done their time," been released, and found new victims?

            

Ridding the world of evildoers is not cruelty to the evildoer. It is mercy on all the rest of us, particularly potential victims, as it makes the world a safer place.

Avoiding Getting Lost: A Modest Proposal for Jewish Education Overhaul

In addition to containing a relevant message for all, this week's Dvar Torah is partially a response to this article, and my friend Rabbi Dr. Aaron Ross' two-part response [here is part II]

Parshat Eikev 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet

 The first chapter and a half that begin Parshat Eikev contains what we might describe as the opposite formula of the "Tokhachot/Rebukes" that appear in Bechukotai and Ki Tavo. In those cases, an ideal is put forth, which is subsequently dwarfed by the enormity of the Rebuke which follows it. In our parsha, the ideal eclipses the possible bad.

 The parsha begins (7:12) with the words "V'haya Eikev Tish'm'oon" – On account of your listening and observing the following laws… God will love you, will heal you of your illnesses, will give you bravery unmatched, will cause your enemies to flee from before you, etc. All you have to do is rid yourselves of their idols.

 The emphasis on avoiding the worshipped images of silver and gold is so strong that other terms are introduced (7:25-26) to bring the point home: To'evah – serving these items is an abomination; Cherem – enemies’ belongings are taboo and may not be used; Sheketz – having these items is offensive; Mokesh – taking the idols will ensnare or trap you into becoming more curious about them.

 “Mokesh” contains a rare root form (in the Torah) which appears one other time here (7:16 as “Mokesh” and in 7:25 as “Tivakesh”), in Shmot 10:7 (in a different context) as well as in Shmot 34:12 and Shmot 23:33 (similar contexts to here), the latter example ending a description of what the conquest of the land will look like. Much of what is mentioned there is echoed here, with a few slight differences.

 Back in our parsha, Moshe continues painting an idyllic scene when we expect to hear the bad that could come from turning away from God. "Guard yourself, lest you forget God and are not observant of His laws. Maybe you'll… build nice homes... have cattle, sheep, silver and gold aplenty. You will become haughty and forget God, Who took you out of Egypt… You will say, 'My strength and fortitude made all this happen.' Be sure to remember God, because He is the One Who has given you the ability to be successful." (8:11-18) 

The concern is that amidst all the good you have you'll forget God. Therefore, don't forget God. Fair enough.

 Moshe continues however, with the consequence for forgetting God. "If you forget God and start worshipping other gods, you will be lost or destroyed. Just like the nations who are being removed from before you, so will be your lot – 'Eikev,' (on account of) your not listening to God." The word Eikev closes the unit with a nice bookend paralleling the way the parsha began. In context, it highlights how abandoning God for the snare of idolatrous worship and how losing all due to misplaced appreciation becomes the theme of this chapter and a half. A President said, “You didn’t build that.” But the Torah argues that God (not Government) had a lot to do with your success.

 The Or HaChaim focuses on the double language of "Avod Tovedun," and says there are two stages of what can happen: becoming lost, then being destroyed. [The root alef-vet-dalet can mean either one.]

 As I believe “destruction” is ultimately God’s choice, I also believe it is truly in our power to do more to avoid becoming lost.

 Last week’s Siyum HaShas of Daf Yomi was a fantastic spectacle of what Kavod HaTorah should and could look like. It wasn't perfect – what is? – but if 90,000 Jews of many different spectrums of Orthodoxy specifically, and Judaism in general, can gather together in one place (not to mention other large gatherings elsewhere in the US and Israel) to celebrate Torah learning, there is hope for us to not get lost.

 But the concern over the success of Jewish education, which is a challenge addressed regularly in schools, online discussion boards, synagogue meetings, the blogosphere or the Jewish Press, is the biggest litmus test which will determine whether we, as the Or HaChaim puts it (in removing a punctuation mark), "will be lost just like the nations." This is not to suggest that the nations of the world are "lost." But the nations of the world do not have the Torah – certainly not in the way we have the Torah.

 If we are to succeed as Jews "Eikev" (on account of) our remembering God and heeding His bidding, a real overhaul is needed in Jewish education. Schools could always use improvement. But the overhaul that is needed is in the homes, where children must be taught over and over "What we have is a gift of God." And where parents literally learn Torah with their children.

 Consigning all our children's Torah learning to other people is a recipe for saying, "Of all the things we do as a family –learning Torah is not one of them." With that kind of attitude, we will be lost "like the nations" who don't value Torah in their own homes. Making TVs, computers, mobile devices and similar technology into the items we utilize the most in our homes – unless they are used regularly for maintaining the God-focus – is the modern-day challenge of avoiding the “Mokesh” (the snare and trap) that helps us get lost.

 It doesn’t have to be Daf Yomi, Gemara, or even something in the Hebrew language - though that is, of course, ideal. But a text should be picked and studied – not just read – and discussed on a regular basis. This will not only enhance parent/child relationships, but will also make absolutely clear what our values are, and will helpfully assure we don’t get lost along the way.

Moshe's Failure

An Important Lesson in Education

  Parshat Va'Etchanan

  by Rabbi Avi Billet

 One of the more fascinating narratives in the Torah is the one surrounding the fate of Moshe, the great leader, and his passionate effort to gain entry into the Promised Land. In last week's parsha he seemed to imply that the episode of the spies doomed him to the same fate as the entire generation (Devarim 1:37).

 In this week's parsha, Moshe has a more cryptic explanation when, in the context of a paragraph in which he explains why God took the people out of Egypt to make them His special nation, "He got angry at me [because of] your words, and He swore I would not cross the Jordan, and I would not come into the land that Hashem your God is giving to you as an inheritance." (4:21) No further explanation is given here beyond blaming "your words."

 Why, then, was Moshe barred from entering the land? Is Moshe referring to the spies incident? The rock incident? Something else? Which "words" uttered by the people may have brought upon him the devastating fate that he tries over and over to have reversed?

The Or HaChaim points out that Moshe's reference to "not crossing the Jordan" as well as "not coming to the land" covers his non-entry in life, or in death (to be buried there), respectively. The traditional approach has all of Yaakov's sons' remains being brought to the land for burial. Moshe is excluded even from this. Why could he not even be buried in the land? Because of their words.

 What were their words?

 The Shakh on the Torah suggests that the anger that God wrought on Moshe was at the Golden Calf incident. When God told Moshe to "Go down" (Shmot 32:7) He meant "Go down from your greatness." Perhaps the underlying message is, "What kind of leader leaves his people in such a state that when he is missing for a 40 day period, they not only don't have more patience, but they go to such an extreme that they create a golden image and seemingly serve it?" This is a failure of leadership.

 The Shakh goes on to say that Moshe's response to the people in the rock incident (Bamidbar 20) hardly fits with his words here – "their words" there, complaining for water, could certainly not be viewed as causing his non-entry to the Land.

 Taking Moshe's message home, Ramban provides the most poignant message in his illuminating comment on this verse. He explains Moshe's words as meaning "God commanded me to teach you the commandments, that you will do in the Land when you cross over [the river] to get there. So, take the lesson, because I will be dying in Moab and I will not be able to teach you in the Land. [When you are] there, don't forget what I have taught you. Nor what you saw in Sinai… God was angry with me on account of worry that you will forget the covenant with God." This is why when Moshe repeats the "Ten Statements," he mentions "as God commanded you" (5:12,16) as if to say, "What I am telling you here was not my own words – it was never my words. All of my teachings come from God."

 What then were "their words?" On a simple level, it is likely words of rebellion that were legitimately out of place – which, as the Shakh points out, is likely not the incident with the rock. Does it matter if it was the Golden Calf, the spies, or something else? I think the point is that it's very hard to square Moshe's failure on a single incident. The punishment, as it were, does not fit any single crime.

 On a much deeper level, I think Ramban is suggesting that Moshe is saying, "I was punished because of your words, because I failed you as a teacher. I didn't understand your complaints. I didn't appreciate where you were coming from. I couldn't relate to you on your level. I may have advocated when you complained, but I didn't anticipate your needs in the right way. This lack on my part brought about the moral failures that fill the Torah, and is the reason I will not enter the land in life, and why not even my body will enjoy the benefit of burial in the land."

This is an incredible admission.

 Moshe is teaching every parent and teacher that God gets angry at us – the parents and teachers – on account of the words of those we are meant to teach, guide and inspire. We need to listen, to try hard to understand, and to respond in a way that is direct, pointed, and that helps the student or child overcome the obstacle, move past the challenging question or episode, with more clarity, with proper guidance. We need to provide answers that the children and students can appreciate and understand.

 And, most importantly, we need to be intellectually honest, without evading issues. Students and children can spot hypocrisy in an instant, and they also know when they're not being listened to or when their genuine concerns are misunderstood by those they look to for guidance. There is a big difference between the response elicited by our teaching or rebuke when a child says "I hate you" versus "I don't like what you're saying, but I respect you nonetheless because you respect me."

 Moshe concludes saying, "While I may not have understood you, I hope you will see that my teachings are good. Heed them, don't disregard them, don't forget what I have taught you."

 May we merit to learn from Moshe. Let us succeed in hearing "their words" so God may always be pleased with us in our roles as parents and teachers - horim and morim. And even when they don't like our methods, let us pray that the students and children will be able to see that our teachings are good, even though we, human beings that we are, are not perfect.