Logic Would Seem to Dictate

Parshat Pinchas

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Outside of Bible adherents' responses, were the story of Pinchas and Zimri presented or played out in our world, it wouldn’t be Pinchas who is heralded and Zimri who is thrown under the bus for being an arrogant and abrasive antagonist.

 The story is pretty simple. Zimri, a leader of the tribe of Shimon, consorts with a Midianite woman in public. According to the Talmud (Sanhedrin82), he mocked Moshe – if a Midianite (Zipporah) was permissible to Moshe, why was a Midianite prohibited to Zimri?

 Pinchas, sensing the rebellious nature of Zimri's act, as well as his mocking tone, recalled a law that declared Zimri deserved the death penalty. And, in that particular circumstance, when he took the law into his own hands, he was praised for it. (See Rabbenu Bachaye 25:6-7) He was even granted a reward of the "The Covenant of Peace." 

 In most circumstances, we do not tolerate taking the law into one's own hands, which is why beyond Pinchas' example, there will be no endorsement of vigilantism here.

 But one wonders how our enlightened society would look at this case.

 Our society would look at Zimri and say perhaps he is a little boastful and bold, but he is an adult, is entitled to make his own decisions. Furthermore, the woman in question was a consenting adult, making their act nothing which could be construed as illegal. Furthermore, if Zimri was not married, then he was hurting no one. He has every right, our liberal provocateur will note, to marry or consort with any consenting woman he wants, of any religion.

 Pinchas, on the other hand, has no excuse for his actions. Who does he think he is? He is a murderer! Just because he doesn't like someone's behavior does not justify killing the person!

 These are all very logical arguments. And the truth is, in some cases, logic is a good sell.

 Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik noted, however, that Judaism is not always governed by logic. Korach, for example, tried to figuratively skewer Moshe in his position as leader and teacher through very logical arguments against some of the commandments of the Torah. But logic doesn't explain the mitzvah of techeilet, or the mitzvah of Mezuzah.

 And, frankly, it doesn't explain the mitzvah of Bris Milah. If Pinchas was awarded the Covenant of Peace, some continue to refer to him as one of the "guardians" of Bris Milah – THE Covenant.

 This week, my website and Facebook page were attacked by "Intactivists." These people are very vocal advocates against circumcision of infants, using many arguments such as barbarism, mutilation, nonconsensual, defenseless baby, etc.

 Logically, they are right. Circumcision, it can be argued, is an unnecessary medical procedure performed on people who, with uncommon exception, do not need it.

 But where they fail in their attack is that they don't understand that for us, this is not about a medical procedure. And we don't view it as barbaric. As Avraham was told, "Walk before me and become complete" through the act of circumcision, the mark of the covenant is placed in our flesh and in the flesh of our children to complement our relationship with God.

 I have met many happy and calm parents before brisses. I have also met my share of nervous parents before brisses. Most of these latter parents just want it to be over with. All parents want it to go well and for their baby to be fine. And when this outcome is achieved, the nervous tension goes away.

But even such "hesitations" do not drive us away from performing Bris Milah. We are who we are partially because of Bris Milah (Talmud Shabbat 130a). Our attitude has always been, upon the birth of a boy, "We need to arrange for the bris."

 These personal experiences have been the opening to many conversations over the course of this week, and every Jewish person with whom I've had this discussion has said the same thing. "Different worlds. They don't understand us. They never will."

 Many of us want to rationally understand everything we do. Some of the things we do defy logic and rational thinking, because they are matters of faith.

 Zimri's flaw, and why the Torah does not side with him, rested in his belief that his brilliant logic should trump all else. But Zimri ignored important principles of the Torah, and may have even not understood the things he violated in the first place.

 But sometimes commitment to and observance of the Torah defies logic. Do we remain steadfast and committed? Or do we throw the baby out with the bathwater? For the committed Jew, the answer is obvious. Logic alone is not what we are all about.

Bilaam's Lads and Facing Failure

Parshat Balak

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Bilaam is one of the more despicable characters in the Torah. Even before he unsuccessfully attempts to curse the Israelite nation, he simultaneously lies to Balak's messengers and goes against the wishes of the God to Whom he has expressed his devotion, when he agrees to go with the king of Moav's emissaries. 

When he does head out on his journey, the Torah tells us, "And God was very angry that he went, and so an angel of Hashem stood on the road to obstruct him, as he was riding on his donkey, and his two lads were with him." (22:22)

Two lads? In the whole story, this is the only mention of anyone, other than Balak's men, accompanying him in any way. These two lads play no role in helping him pack, no role in helping him travel, and there is no reference to them in the tales immediately following, neither with the "talking donkey" nor when dealing with Balak upon arriving in Moav.

Rashi teaches the important lesson, which the Siftei Chachamim calls a "suggestion of derech eretz (proper way-of-the-world conduct)" - as opposed to an obligation - that an important person should not go out alone, especially on a journey.

Some might compare this to the story of Avraham (Bereshit 22), who similarly traveled with two lads. Rashi there explained the obligation incumbent upon an important person not to travel alone.  While the importance of Bilaam versus the importance of Avraham is a relative debate, their tales are nonetheless comparable. 

They both travel by donkey, preparing the donkey for travel alone, they both go in the morning (though Avraham seems to leave earlier), they both go on a few-days journey, they both don't know how the story will turn out. And they both bring two n'arim (young lads) to accompany on the journey, presumably as servants or helpers.

The difference with the lads is that in Avraham's case, they are prominent in the story. They accompany him, they stay with the donkey as he ascends the mountain with Yitzchak, and he returns to them at the end of the tale as they accompany him on his journey home. 

In Bilaam's case, they make one appearance: only when the angel is standing before him on the road, as quoted above. They do not embark with him at the beginning of his journey, and they are not present for his return journey. It is almost as if they don't really exist.

When he leaves his home, he goes with "officers of Moav." When he arrives at his destination, he is with "officers of Balak." His lads are either inconsequential or, perhaps, no longer present.

If they were inconsequential, why mention them?

Perhaps Bilaam's lads are mentioned on account of what was about to take place.  Following their appearance, Bilaam has his fateful encounter with his faithful donkey, an encounter, says Maimonides (Guide to the Perplexed II:42) which took place in his mind as a prophesy.

Whether the donkey actually spoke or was perceived as having spoken, the one who comes out of the story looking like, shall we say, a donkey, is Bilaam!

The officers of Moav do not seem to be present when Bilaam converses with the donkey. But our verse would indicate that as the story begins to unfold his lads are present.

Somewhere between their appearance here and his arrival in Balak's land, they disappear. From his perspective, this is a bonus. Had they arrived with him, they would have undermined every thing Bilaam tried to do (not that anything worked) because they saw him at his weakest and knew how imperfect he was. A donkey had bested him in an argument!

The proof that he is not an important person, as Rashi proposed, is that he went home alone! Were it true that an important person doesn't travel alone, there is no way he could have traveled, in either direction, alone.

Did they abandon him? Did he fire them? Did he kill them? All possibilities are suggestive. They might have left of their own accord when they realized he was a crock.

If they were fired, we must understand why he had them in the first place. Maybe Bilaam wanted to put on airs suggesting he was important, and having two young servants may have served that purpose through being part of his otherwise very unimpressive entourage.

When he had his unfortunate episode with the donkey, however, the gig was up. No one who had witnessed that could be part of Bilaam's party. They were either fired (or killed?) to keep his secret safe. Until... he demonstrated for Balak how worthless he was, as Balak said, "And now, escape to your place. I said I would honor you, but God has denied you any honor." (24:11).

We are always presented with opportunities to prove our worth or to fail.  May we be blessed to be successful in our endeavors. May we also be blessed that when we fail, we have the opportunity to pick up the pieces so that even those who saw us at our weakest moments will not be able to say, as Bilaam's lads could have said about him, that we have no worth. Because we are all of infinite value.

May we be blessed to tap into that value and make the most of our lives.  

When Death Brings Atonement

Parshat Chukat 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet 

"…They came to the Tzin Desert, and the people stopped in Kadesh. It was there that Miriam died and she was buried there." (20:1)

Menachem Recanati asks, "This is all the Torah has to say about Miriam here, though her death was comparable to Moshe's (Baba Batra 17a), and Aharon's, and even Avraham's, on account of all them utilizing the word "Sham" ("there"), which even appears twice here?"

The Talmud (Moed Katan 28a) tells us Miriam's death is juxtaposed to the Parah Adumah (Red Heifer) of Chapter 19 because just as the Parah Adumah brought atonement, so does the death of the righteous bring atonement.

Toldot Yitzchak notes the problem with this passage; since the Parah Adumah is not classified as a Korban (sacrifice) it does not bring atonement! It brings about taharah (purity)!

This may explain why Rashi here misquotes the Talmud, saying "Just as Korbanot bring atonement, so does the death of the righteous." [Tosafot claim the atonement brought by Parah Adumah is for the Sin of the Golden Calf. See also Rashi19:22]

Other commentaries address the "death of righteous bringing atonement" idea. Torah Temimah focuses not on the death, but on observed mourning and honor given to the deceased, which translates to Honor of God, suggesting this is what brings atonement.

The Toldot Yitzchak surmises that "the Rabbis' intent was that the atonement was not available for a person who does not feel a real spiritual void, a loss for all of Israel, when the righteous die. Such a loss should humble a person, and make a person feel like the dust of the earth, an idea connected to the Parah Adumah which is burned to dust."

The deaths of Nadav and Avihu are mentioned in Yom Kippur's Torah reading to help us think, on the Day of Atonement, of what can be achieved for the people through the death of the righteous (see possibility #1 here) . [On what to say after such tragedies, see here]

Ricanati says after the Baal Peor incident in Bamidbar 25, Moshe was instructed to gather the leaders of the people in order to get God's wrath to subside from Israel (25:4) because through the leaders either judging the people or themselves dying, God's attribute of Judgment is appeased. (See Medrash Shir HaShirim 1:6) This helps explain why the wrongs perpetrated against the Givonim were only righted through the deaths of seven descendants of Shaul (see Shmuel II:21)

Recanati furthers this idea in his commentary on Eglah Arufah – the unsolved murder (Devarim 21) – quoting Bereishit Raba 44:5. When God told Avraham "I will [make a] shield [of] you" He was saying, "I will make righteous people descend from you, the kind who protect others from Judgment through their deaths." [i.e. Nadav and Avihu (Vayikra 10:3) and what Talmud Shabbat 55a learns from Yechezkel 9:6]

There is a more blatant connection between Miriam's death and Eglah Arufah. The Talmud (Avodah Zarah 29b) learns from a "gezeirah shavah" (a parallel word in two Torah cases) on the word "Sham" ("there") that just as one is forbidden from deriving benefit from the slaughtered cow (eglah arufah), it is forbidden to derive benefit from a corpse (such as Miriam was).

Baal Haturim connects Parah Adumah, Miriam's death and Eglah Arufah through equating the numerical values of "Issur B'hanaah" (prohibition of benefit) (340), the word "Sham" (340), "Mechaper" (brings atonement) (340), and "Parah Adumah" (341: gematria has a +/-1 factor).

Further, the Kli Yakar (19:2) connects the young cow (Eglah) slaughtered to achieve atonement and the Eigel (Golden Calf) in their giving or needing to achieve atonement for murder – shortly before the Golden Calf was formed, Chur was murdered.

With Miriam's death, the people missed an opportunity to achieve the atonement they so needed. This lost chance was the cause (if not the blessing!) that absolved Moshe and Aharon once and for all from leading the people from whom they had grown apart.

The Alshich describes Moshe's and Aharon's intent to deal with burying their sister. When they saw a large crowd coming, Aharon praised the people for wanting to do kindness, but Moshe questioned their intent as they weren't following the proper social order. And when they heard Moshe describing their visit negatively, they fought with him.

Rabbi Yosef Karo explained their confronting Moshe, "See! Miriam died a natural death! If we could only die a natural death! But who wants to die from thirst? Why did you bring us to the desert…?" They erred! Many commentaries point out that they should have responded properly over the loss of this righteous women, a prophetess, sister of Moshe and Aharon, and they should have expressed their gratitude for having water in her merit.

The well was taken away so the people would realize it had been there in her merit. Had they treated her death with proper reverence, as the Torah Temimah described, treating Moshe and Aharon with kindness, the water would return. They didn't – and they suffered on account of it.

Every generation has truly great leaders, who are revered, honored and respected in their lifetimes. It is our responsibility to make the most of their time on earth in enhancing our lives. When their time on this earth is over, we must feel the loss in the deepest depths of our being. We need the atonement that comes with such a loss.

The Wealth of Korach

After writing the dvar Torah, this article came to my attention - about the percentage of Israel's millionaires

Parshat Korach

In addition to being one of the more colorful characters in the Torah, Korach is even more colorful as he is portrayed in the Talmud and Midrash.

            
A simple look at the commentaries brings one to understand his brilliant mind, his ability to twist Torah, mitzvot, and halakha to conform to his agenda of criticizing Moshe's leadership (which is less apparent in the Torah) and Aharon's role as Kohen Gadol – his primary objection.

            
One of the more seemingly inconsequential details raised is that Korach was exceedingly wealthy. (Pesachim 119a)

            
We know that when the ground swallowed up those who had burned the K'toret on the copper firepans the Torah states, "The earth opened its mouth and swallowed them, and their homes, and all the people that were with/belonged to Korach, and all of the property." (16:32)

            
With the exception of when a person takes property that is unavailable – such as Achan taking from the "cherem" (Yehoshua 7) – property is not generally subject to the punishment that befalls a sinner. "You can't take it with you" because it goes to your family.

            
If Korach's property was not ill-gotten, as the Talmud assumes, and if Korach's children did not participate in their father's rebellion (Bamidbar 26:11) – Radak on the first verse in Shmuel explains (based on Divrei Hayamim I:6) that Korach's children were prophets – they should have by all right inherited their father's possessions. Why was the property swallowed with the evil doers?

            
One line of thinking follows the passage in the mishnah towards the bottom of Sanhedrin 54a which punishes a seemingly blameless animal for a sin committed by a human (based on Vayikra 20:15-16). The reasoning? Because a human was brought to the lowest level of sin on account of the animal.

            
On a parallel plane, Nachshoni suggests Korach's wealth did the same thing to him. The Talmud describes the number of keys to Korach's treasures as being equivalent to the loads carried by three hundred mules (might not be a number meant to be taken literally). This tremendous wealth brought him to a level of unsurpassed arrogance, in which he felt he should have whatever he wanted, and was willing to go to whatever extreme necessary in order to get it.

            
Since his wealth caused him to sin, commentators argue, his wealth was punished as well. It wasn't taken from his inheritors – it was destroyed for bringing about his downfall.

            
The history of mankind in general, and of Jewish communities specifically, has always included individuals on all ends of the financial spectrum. That more people have less and fewer people have more is a reality just about everywhere.

            
What do the minority who are blessed with more do with their wealth? Do they go the Korach route? Do they confront leadership, dictate policy, expect the world to bow to them? Do they try to run the schools they support, the shuls they support, the organizations they support, etc. in their image? Are they seeking the "kavod" that comes from being the giver?

            
Or do they give to reflect their appreciation to their God? Do they give back to the community? Do they give magnanimously, with grace and charm? Do they sometimes give anonymously? Do they let those in the trenches use their skills to do their jobs best, while the donors stand on the sideline shouting words of encouragement and support, ever ready with the blank check to help out in whatever way possible?

            
Korach failed and perished because he let his wealth get to his head. He felt he was more suited to be the Kohen Gadol, and he was so arrogant that he could not accept that God might have chosen someone else over himself.

            
We tremendously appreciate the philanthropists and the givers who enhance our lives. We recognize that God has blessed them, and we wish them to find continued success so they may continue to do so much good with their wealth.

            
And those of us who are "not yet" philanthropists continue to pray that were the tables ever to turn, we be blessed not only with the ability to do good for others, but with the level-headed thinking that will keep us out of the Korach camp and in the camp of those who are magnanimous, gracious, and giving simply because we can.

            
May God bless us with opportunities to do amazing things with His gifts. May we merit to keep our priorities in order, to make the gift about how we can help and about how those on the other end of the spectrum can benefit from our generosity.