Rosh Hashana
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Anyone who has studied the concept of Teshuvah (Repentance) knows that there are two realms in which all of us need to improve: Between ourselves and fellow Man, and between ourselves and God.
One can argue that Teshuvah between Man and God is much more easily achieved. It is literally lip service, along with a commitment of some kind to change one’s ways. Plus Yom Kippur, and your atonement potion is complete.
For sins between ourselves and fellow Man, however, the process of Teshuvah is much more difficult. Praying to God does nothing to atone for these kinds of sins unless the offense has been either corrected or apologized for directly.
The Slonimer Rebbe reminds us that there are two ways a person can go about trying to achieve Teshuvah. There is Teshuvah me’yirah (repentance out of fear), and Teshuvah me’ahavah (repentance out of love). Both have merits, but which is better?
A parable will suffice to illustrate the differences.
A man living in a kingdom decided that the king was no good. Organizing his friends with revolutionary ideas, he rallied people against the king, and created quite an anti-establishment movement. Until the whole thing was silenced and put down by the king.
Realizing the danger into which he had put himself, the man came to the king on his knees begging for forgiveness and a pardon. This is Teshuvah me’yirah, repentance and returning out of fear of retribution.
However, the king reminded him, as much as this might make him change on a personal level, the damage was done. The revolutionary ideas were planted. There is a rebellious element in the land due to his actions.
In other words, even Teshuvah me’yirah does not erase the resulting damage, it does not turn back the tremendous “Hillul Hashem” – desecration of God’s name – which ensued from one’s actions.
What can achieve that effect? Teshuvah me’ahavah, a return to God out of love. In essence, if the same revolutionary alters his views and sees not only that he should not have rebelled against the king, but that the king is kind and good and that the king only needs support from his people, he can create a pro-king revolution. He can take the opposite public stand from what he had done before, and demonstrate a real change – a change that has its roots in love for the king.
It is counter-culture. And it can be very effective.
The truth is, such an idea is not so counter-culture. We say every day in Shema that “You will love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul and all your essence.” A person who actually fulfills such a notion, who sees God as a beloved, wants nothing but to please God, sees flaws in sinning, is not interested in veering from the Godlike path.
And we also declare on a daily basis what the result from the other side is. Towards the end of Ashrei (Psalm 145) we declare, “R’tzon y’reav yaaseh… Shomer Hashem et kol ohavav,” He does the will of those who fear Him, and He hears their cry and saves them. The Lord guards all who love Him, and He destroys all the wicked.
This is the combined response that comes to those who come to God out of fear and those who come to God out of love. Those who fear God are answered and saved. But the source of their oppression is not destroyed until they come to love Him.
What do we prefer? To have a guardian angel protecting us whenever we’re in trouble? Or to have the trouble eradicated so the guardian angel is not necessary?
Anyone who has ever been in dire straits knows very well that the latter option is preferred. Let me live my life without pain and suffering. Let me live without worry about what an evil person or entity will do to me, my family, my People. Let me live in such a manner that I can focus on real goals and do my part as an Eved Hashem – a servant of God – who just wants to bring light and goodness to the world.
A man I knew passed away around Pesach time of this past year. Every time I spoke with him he’d mention all the good in his life (and believe me he had rough times as well) always noting how much he loved Hashem. For him it wasn’t lip service, it was genuine sincerity, coming from a place of goodness, of knowing that life comes full circle, and that the best friend a person can have, if one understands life in such a manner, is God. And when one realizes that, one can come to love Him.
It may be hard for some people to come to grips with it. And some people suffer too much and have too many questions. And yet some people who suffer greatly still manage to emerge from it all, heroically, declaring their unending love for their Maker.
May we be blessed in our pursuit of loving God and returning to Him with love, so we may all merit a Shanah Tovah – a good year for all.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Uncovering the Heart For Repentance
Parshat Nitzavim
by Rabbi Avi Billet
One of the reasons we read Parshat Nitzavim immediately before Rosh Hashana is because of its emphasis on the concept of Teshuvah (repentance).
In the context of telling us about the aftermath of the blessings and curses that have been raised up until now, Moshe reminds the people that “you will return to the Lord, your God, with all your heart and with all your soul, and you will listen to His voice according to all that I am commanding you this day…”
God will, in turn, bring you to the land, where He “will circumcise your heart and the heart of your offspring, [so that you may] love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, for the sake of your life.” (30:6)
The image of a circumcised heart invokes images from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1 min mark – so laughably edited), because how else could one remove the heart’s foreskin? Obviously it is meant to be a metaphor to the covering of the heart that makes the stone-cold-heart impenetrable to change and repentance. (In case you thought it was to be literal, Ibn Ezra says the “milah” here is not like the physical one we are familiar with from your typical “bris milah.”)
But the verse in question (30:6) is much more famous than it lets on in our parsha, because the phrase in Hebrew which is translated as “your heart and the heart of” is one of the phrases quoted in all the sources about the repentance period leading up to Rosh Hashana because the words “Et Levavkha V’et L’vav” begin with the letters which spell the word Elul. [אלול = את לבבך ואת לבב]
As one would expect, there are a number of interpretations as to what exactly God will remove from the hearts of you and your children in this Teshuvah process.
Ramban explains it as referring to a future time, when the heart will no longer have desires for things which are inappropriate. Coveting and desiring are a “foreskin” to the heart, and these bad character traits need to be removed, so a person can return to the innocent status of Man before the sin in the Garden of Eden, when humans did what their simple tasks on Earth were.
Quoting Yirmiyahu 31:30-33, Ramban indicates that the excision of the heart’s “foreskin” is the nullification of the Yetzer Hara, the Evil Inclination. Similarly, in Yechezkel (36:26-27) we are given the indiction that a new heart will be granted (in Messianic times) to those who will only have the inclination to do what is instinctively right.
Seforno refers to this “foreskin removal” as a turning away from every error that confuses the mind away from knowing truth when one truly seeks it.
In a more poetic vein (though following the language of the verse), Kli Yakar draws attention to what the removal of the coat on the heart will do – open the heart to loving God. After all, as we read in the Tokhacha (Rebuke) of last week’s Torah portion, it is the inability to serve God with joy which would bring about the curses (28:47), and a circumcised heart would allow for love to creep its way into the special relationship we are meant to have with God.
The Baal Haturim parallels our verse to another verse that is oft-spoken these days, the second to last in Tehillim 27 (L’David Hashem Ori), which begins with the word “Lulay.” “Had I not believed in seeing the good of the Lord in the land of the living! Hope for the Lord, be strong and He will give your heart courage, and hope for the Lord.” Lulay also has the letters of the word Elul in it, suggesting that perhaps the circumcised heart opens the door to letting God in.
Finally, to round out our interpretations (though surely there are many more), we have the Targum Yonatan who is rather blunt in his pronouncement of what the “circumcision of the heart” is meant to remove. “God will remove the foolishness of your heart, and the foolishness of the heart of your children as He cancels the Yetzer Hara from functioning in the world, replacing him with the Yetzer Hatov.”
The message is clear. With the right attitude and outlook in the month of Elul, we have the chance to avoid the folly that comes from being slaves to our Yetzer Hara. Just look at the sins we all regret in our Viduy (confessions) on Yom Kippur. Sins with our eyes, sins with our mouths, sins against our parents and teachers, sins against people to whom we pretend we are their friends.
With the right attitude going into the final week pre-Rosh Hashana, hopefully we can see that the ways our Yetzer Hara veers us on the wrong path through ensnaring our hearts, is really a capitulation to foolish behavior we ought to be mature enough to avoid. Because when we look back at our flaws and honestly self-assess, what do we find? Important decisions behind our poor choices? Or, more likely, immature indulgence of things we didn’t really need to do.
Anyone who is on a diet knows that after the initial decision that the current trajectory is a poor one, the next step is to be careful about what one eats. A mature person should be able to stick with it. But anyone who has ever broken a diet knows that it’s usually “just one little nibble, just one little snack, I’ll cheat a tiny bit, etc” and the diet is over. Was the cheat enjoyable? In many cases, probably. Was it worth it? In most cases, probably not. Was it necessary? In every case, no.
So why do people do it? Because there is a foreskin on the brain which says “Don’t listen to your earlier decision to change. Indulge! Enjoy!” And an immature thought process justifies the poor decision.
The same holds true for the heart when it comes to Repentance. We know what we have to do. Let us find the inner strength to Repent with a complete, open, and exposed heart.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
One of the reasons we read Parshat Nitzavim immediately before Rosh Hashana is because of its emphasis on the concept of Teshuvah (repentance).
In the context of telling us about the aftermath of the blessings and curses that have been raised up until now, Moshe reminds the people that “you will return to the Lord, your God, with all your heart and with all your soul, and you will listen to His voice according to all that I am commanding you this day…”
God will, in turn, bring you to the land, where He “will circumcise your heart and the heart of your offspring, [so that you may] love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, for the sake of your life.” (30:6)
The image of a circumcised heart invokes images from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom (1 min mark – so laughably edited), because how else could one remove the heart’s foreskin? Obviously it is meant to be a metaphor to the covering of the heart that makes the stone-cold-heart impenetrable to change and repentance. (In case you thought it was to be literal, Ibn Ezra says the “milah” here is not like the physical one we are familiar with from your typical “bris milah.”)
But the verse in question (30:6) is much more famous than it lets on in our parsha, because the phrase in Hebrew which is translated as “your heart and the heart of” is one of the phrases quoted in all the sources about the repentance period leading up to Rosh Hashana because the words “Et Levavkha V’et L’vav” begin with the letters which spell the word Elul. [אלול = את לבבך ואת לבב]
As one would expect, there are a number of interpretations as to what exactly God will remove from the hearts of you and your children in this Teshuvah process.
Ramban explains it as referring to a future time, when the heart will no longer have desires for things which are inappropriate. Coveting and desiring are a “foreskin” to the heart, and these bad character traits need to be removed, so a person can return to the innocent status of Man before the sin in the Garden of Eden, when humans did what their simple tasks on Earth were.
Quoting Yirmiyahu 31:30-33, Ramban indicates that the excision of the heart’s “foreskin” is the nullification of the Yetzer Hara, the Evil Inclination. Similarly, in Yechezkel (36:26-27) we are given the indiction that a new heart will be granted (in Messianic times) to those who will only have the inclination to do what is instinctively right.
Seforno refers to this “foreskin removal” as a turning away from every error that confuses the mind away from knowing truth when one truly seeks it.
In a more poetic vein (though following the language of the verse), Kli Yakar draws attention to what the removal of the coat on the heart will do – open the heart to loving God. After all, as we read in the Tokhacha (Rebuke) of last week’s Torah portion, it is the inability to serve God with joy which would bring about the curses (28:47), and a circumcised heart would allow for love to creep its way into the special relationship we are meant to have with God.
The Baal Haturim parallels our verse to another verse that is oft-spoken these days, the second to last in Tehillim 27 (L’David Hashem Ori), which begins with the word “Lulay.” “Had I not believed in seeing the good of the Lord in the land of the living! Hope for the Lord, be strong and He will give your heart courage, and hope for the Lord.” Lulay also has the letters of the word Elul in it, suggesting that perhaps the circumcised heart opens the door to letting God in.
Finally, to round out our interpretations (though surely there are many more), we have the Targum Yonatan who is rather blunt in his pronouncement of what the “circumcision of the heart” is meant to remove. “God will remove the foolishness of your heart, and the foolishness of the heart of your children as He cancels the Yetzer Hara from functioning in the world, replacing him with the Yetzer Hatov.”
The message is clear. With the right attitude and outlook in the month of Elul, we have the chance to avoid the folly that comes from being slaves to our Yetzer Hara. Just look at the sins we all regret in our Viduy (confessions) on Yom Kippur. Sins with our eyes, sins with our mouths, sins against our parents and teachers, sins against people to whom we pretend we are their friends.
With the right attitude going into the final week pre-Rosh Hashana, hopefully we can see that the ways our Yetzer Hara veers us on the wrong path through ensnaring our hearts, is really a capitulation to foolish behavior we ought to be mature enough to avoid. Because when we look back at our flaws and honestly self-assess, what do we find? Important decisions behind our poor choices? Or, more likely, immature indulgence of things we didn’t really need to do.
Anyone who is on a diet knows that after the initial decision that the current trajectory is a poor one, the next step is to be careful about what one eats. A mature person should be able to stick with it. But anyone who has ever broken a diet knows that it’s usually “just one little nibble, just one little snack, I’ll cheat a tiny bit, etc” and the diet is over. Was the cheat enjoyable? In many cases, probably. Was it worth it? In most cases, probably not. Was it necessary? In every case, no.
So why do people do it? Because there is a foreskin on the brain which says “Don’t listen to your earlier decision to change. Indulge! Enjoy!” And an immature thought process justifies the poor decision.
The same holds true for the heart when it comes to Repentance. We know what we have to do. Let us find the inner strength to Repent with a complete, open, and exposed heart.
Friday, September 12, 2014
BeLIeVING With All of Your Heart
Parshat Ki Tavo
by Rabbi Avi Billet
“This day God commands you to fulfill [all the laws], and you should do them with all your heart, and with all your soul.” (26:16)
The Midrash Tanaim jumps on the classic interpretation (see also Tanchuma 1) that when Moshe says “This day” with reference to mitzvah observance, he is noting that any demonstration of following the Torah creates a visual for God as if the Jewish people have accepted the Torah today.
It is possible that the word “L’vavkha” (your heart) is plural, suggesting more than one heart. Obviously every individual only has one heart. Midrash Tanaim suggest that the soul is also considered the heart. We know that body without a heart can not live. Perhaps the homiletic jump is not that far off, that a soulless individual has no real life.
On the other hand, the Rosh argues that when a person prays he should be careful not to have two hearts, one focused on God and the other focused on other things.
Rabbenu Bachaye looks at our opening verse and addresses the difference between this and a similar sentiment in the Shema. Moshe told us there, “And you shall love God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your essence… these words that I command you today should be on your heart…” The message there was also, as the Rabbis expounded, that the words of the Torah being commanded “today” should be new in your eyes always. After all, generations change, and the heart of Man is drawn after what he sees.
This may be why the Shema is exactly that – a call to “Hear” and not to see. Seeing, after all, is a better form of proof leading to belief than merely hearing something second hand.
The truth is that every fact or event is only witnessed by a few people in the scheme of history. But if everyone talks about it, allowing others to “hear” about it, then word can spread forever.
The message Rabbenu Bachaye extracts from our verse beginning with “this day” and ending with “with all your soul” is the teaching that a person is obligated to be “mosair nefesh” (push himself to the extremes, perhaps be ready to lay down his life) for mitzvos, throughout all generations, just as he was ready to do so on the day the Torah was given.
Imagine what it was like to experience Revelation. To have all doubts removed, and to KNOW that God is there. To understand that our purpose in life was to be brought to this place so we could receive a gift. And the understanding of the special nature of the Torah becomes increasingly apparent, the more the weather changes from a bright and beautiful morning to a day of a smoking mountain, thunder and lightning, and the sound of a shofar.
Just as a person would have been ready at that time to do anything for God, a person should be ready and prepared at all times, every day, to serve God properly.
To put it more directly, the Seforno says the message of doing mitzvos with all your heart is, “That you should recognize without any doubt that it is proper to fulfill His will.”
Whether one does it with the proper intention or not, the purpose of mitzvah observance and the goal of a Torah lifestyle is meant to train a person to be a “ma’amin,” a believer.
Too often we fall back on the reasons for why we do the things we do, we daven because we’re trained to, we build a sukkah because it’s that time of year again, we keep Shabbos because we have to. These are all true.
But we must also recognize that the Torah, for us, is a new book handed to us from Sinai. We know it comes from God! We know the author, the giver, and the teacher. And we want to fulfill its every word, because it is through fulfillment of these Mitzvos, and through the subsequent connection we build towards and maintain with God that we become fulfilled Jews.
Let us strive to tap into that excitement of newness. To demonstrate for ourselves and our children and grandchildren that we can truly have a love for God and His People if we always have that fresh exhilaration at the prospect of doing His will.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
“This day God commands you to fulfill [all the laws], and you should do them with all your heart, and with all your soul.” (26:16)
The Midrash Tanaim jumps on the classic interpretation (see also Tanchuma 1) that when Moshe says “This day” with reference to mitzvah observance, he is noting that any demonstration of following the Torah creates a visual for God as if the Jewish people have accepted the Torah today.
It is possible that the word “L’vavkha” (your heart) is plural, suggesting more than one heart. Obviously every individual only has one heart. Midrash Tanaim suggest that the soul is also considered the heart. We know that body without a heart can not live. Perhaps the homiletic jump is not that far off, that a soulless individual has no real life.
On the other hand, the Rosh argues that when a person prays he should be careful not to have two hearts, one focused on God and the other focused on other things.
Rabbenu Bachaye looks at our opening verse and addresses the difference between this and a similar sentiment in the Shema. Moshe told us there, “And you shall love God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your essence… these words that I command you today should be on your heart…” The message there was also, as the Rabbis expounded, that the words of the Torah being commanded “today” should be new in your eyes always. After all, generations change, and the heart of Man is drawn after what he sees.
This may be why the Shema is exactly that – a call to “Hear” and not to see. Seeing, after all, is a better form of proof leading to belief than merely hearing something second hand.
The truth is that every fact or event is only witnessed by a few people in the scheme of history. But if everyone talks about it, allowing others to “hear” about it, then word can spread forever.
The message Rabbenu Bachaye extracts from our verse beginning with “this day” and ending with “with all your soul” is the teaching that a person is obligated to be “mosair nefesh” (push himself to the extremes, perhaps be ready to lay down his life) for mitzvos, throughout all generations, just as he was ready to do so on the day the Torah was given.
Imagine what it was like to experience Revelation. To have all doubts removed, and to KNOW that God is there. To understand that our purpose in life was to be brought to this place so we could receive a gift. And the understanding of the special nature of the Torah becomes increasingly apparent, the more the weather changes from a bright and beautiful morning to a day of a smoking mountain, thunder and lightning, and the sound of a shofar.
Just as a person would have been ready at that time to do anything for God, a person should be ready and prepared at all times, every day, to serve God properly.
To put it more directly, the Seforno says the message of doing mitzvos with all your heart is, “That you should recognize without any doubt that it is proper to fulfill His will.”
Whether one does it with the proper intention or not, the purpose of mitzvah observance and the goal of a Torah lifestyle is meant to train a person to be a “ma’amin,” a believer.
Too often we fall back on the reasons for why we do the things we do, we daven because we’re trained to, we build a sukkah because it’s that time of year again, we keep Shabbos because we have to. These are all true.
But we must also recognize that the Torah, for us, is a new book handed to us from Sinai. We know it comes from God! We know the author, the giver, and the teacher. And we want to fulfill its every word, because it is through fulfillment of these Mitzvos, and through the subsequent connection we build towards and maintain with God that we become fulfilled Jews.
Let us strive to tap into that excitement of newness. To demonstrate for ourselves and our children and grandchildren that we can truly have a love for God and His People if we always have that fresh exhilaration at the prospect of doing His will.
Friday, September 5, 2014
Getting Rid of the Evil Among Us
Parshat Ki Tetze
by Rabbi Avi Billet
From the one time in Re’eh to the three times in Shoftim to the five times in Ki Tetze, the Torah tells us nine times to eradicate evil – “Uvi’arta hara” – from either amongst you, or amongst all of Israel.
It would seem that in most of these cases, as well as others in our parsha, the Torah is advocating for a death penalty kind of punishment for those who are either guilty of a crime, or are in violation of a mitzvah.
Most people I know would have much less of a problem with capital punishment for truly evil people, such as murderers and terrorists. This is likely true in times of peace, but is even more true during times of war when the swift justice of war eradicates evil people.
But for sinners?
We are all sinners! Why would we advocate for these death penalty punishments, or any kind of corporal punishment, when the laws which trigger these punishments are so easily violated? I have seen Sharia law advocates explain that the law is meant to be a deterrent, and that the message of “they will hear and they will fear” will serve as the inspiration to create a moral society as we weed out the bad apples among us. Even if this works in theory, the lack of compassion, and the lack of a soul in the hands of the executor of "justice" is so anti the civil society we have accepted as tolerant and (acceptably) liberal.
The problem with applying the literal presentation of the Torah's laws in our parsha as "the way the Jewish society was" is that the court system always required witnesses and warnings. And if the warning was not issued in the proper fashion (let alone if it was not issued at all), or if there were no witnesses, or if the witnesses did not fit the necessary criteria or were somehow disqualified (such as if they were related to one another or to one of the claimants), the court case is more of a spectacle than an effective system of punishment. The corporal punishments the Torah describes are immediately thrown off the table.
Understanding to which crimes and sins specific punishments were appended requires a careful reading of Devarim chapters 17-24. But all of the cases in question come with Talmudic caveats. The rebellious son never existed. The betrothed daughter at that specific age was never unfaithful. Warnings. Witnesses. Etc.
How then is a just society created if the court system has its hands bound and can’t carry out the law?
Two elements come into play in a society living under God. Firstly, monetary cases are decided by the courts. Documents always had to have witnesses. Legal jargon may not have been what it is today, but the paperwork was there. And courts could decide between he said-he said cases, even in the absence of witnesses.
The other element is God’s role. The God fearing individual reads the Torah, understands the gravity of the worst sins described in the Torah, and makes a conscious choice not to violate, and to otherwise live a holy existence, to the best of one’s ability.
Otherwise, between the punishment known as “kares” (which has many possible manifestations) and “misah bidei shamayim” (death at the hands of heaven), the courts would put certain punishments in the hands of Heaven. Imagine the otherwise guilty party (minus the necessary proof to actually convict) walking out of court with the judges saying, “Good luck because you’re going to need it. God is going to get you.”
What will it take? A car accident? A slip and fall? A heart attack? Or, in those days, perhaps getting gored by an animal running amok? Precisely.
I am not suggesting that the victims of tragedies like these in our day are being punished for indiscretions. Even if they were guilty of certain sins (after all, aren’t we all?), in most cases it was private, and it was certainly never adjudicated in court. More likely they were not even remotely guilty of the sins of the magnitude described in our parsha. How then do we explain why tragedy struck?
We can’t. And those who think they know the answers are fools and should be shunned. Sometimes we don’t know and can’t understand the ways of God. Saying things like “it was his time” and “God wanted it this way” are the wrong things to say to people who are filled with questions.
Two final points. I read an opinion piece in Haaretz this week that suggested that as we have evolved from the punishments described in the Torah and no longer practice “an eye for an eye” and capital punishment, we should also consider getting rid of Bris Milah, as the author suggested, “Ritual circumcision is the only act of physical harm that remains.”
The author’s misunderstanding of the corporal and capital punishments aside (most of which were either monetary compensation to victims or impossible-to-enforce capital punishment), he completely misunderstands what Bris Milah is all about. The Covenant is not viewed as a punishment. It is a gift from God. The act of circumcision is an act of faith that has been adequately addressed by Rabbi Akiva almost two thousand years ago. (Midrash Tanchuma Tazria 7)
Finally, we are to understand that as much as society “evolves” the Torah’s truths remain. The punishments described for the heinous crimes and sins are meant to illustrate just how badly these specific violations tear apart the fabric of our Torah-guided society.
Our goal is to weed out sinners. And we do that through educating sinners not to sin. May we all become experts in Torah knowledge so we can not only continue to enhance our wonderful society, but be a light to the world for how to treat our fellow man.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
From the one time in Re’eh to the three times in Shoftim to the five times in Ki Tetze, the Torah tells us nine times to eradicate evil – “Uvi’arta hara” – from either amongst you, or amongst all of Israel.
It would seem that in most of these cases, as well as others in our parsha, the Torah is advocating for a death penalty kind of punishment for those who are either guilty of a crime, or are in violation of a mitzvah.
Most people I know would have much less of a problem with capital punishment for truly evil people, such as murderers and terrorists. This is likely true in times of peace, but is even more true during times of war when the swift justice of war eradicates evil people.
But for sinners?
We are all sinners! Why would we advocate for these death penalty punishments, or any kind of corporal punishment, when the laws which trigger these punishments are so easily violated? I have seen Sharia law advocates explain that the law is meant to be a deterrent, and that the message of “they will hear and they will fear” will serve as the inspiration to create a moral society as we weed out the bad apples among us. Even if this works in theory, the lack of compassion, and the lack of a soul in the hands of the executor of "justice" is so anti the civil society we have accepted as tolerant and (acceptably) liberal.
The problem with applying the literal presentation of the Torah's laws in our parsha as "the way the Jewish society was" is that the court system always required witnesses and warnings. And if the warning was not issued in the proper fashion (let alone if it was not issued at all), or if there were no witnesses, or if the witnesses did not fit the necessary criteria or were somehow disqualified (such as if they were related to one another or to one of the claimants), the court case is more of a spectacle than an effective system of punishment. The corporal punishments the Torah describes are immediately thrown off the table.
Understanding to which crimes and sins specific punishments were appended requires a careful reading of Devarim chapters 17-24. But all of the cases in question come with Talmudic caveats. The rebellious son never existed. The betrothed daughter at that specific age was never unfaithful. Warnings. Witnesses. Etc.
How then is a just society created if the court system has its hands bound and can’t carry out the law?
Two elements come into play in a society living under God. Firstly, monetary cases are decided by the courts. Documents always had to have witnesses. Legal jargon may not have been what it is today, but the paperwork was there. And courts could decide between he said-he said cases, even in the absence of witnesses.
The other element is God’s role. The God fearing individual reads the Torah, understands the gravity of the worst sins described in the Torah, and makes a conscious choice not to violate, and to otherwise live a holy existence, to the best of one’s ability.
Otherwise, between the punishment known as “kares” (which has many possible manifestations) and “misah bidei shamayim” (death at the hands of heaven), the courts would put certain punishments in the hands of Heaven. Imagine the otherwise guilty party (minus the necessary proof to actually convict) walking out of court with the judges saying, “Good luck because you’re going to need it. God is going to get you.”
What will it take? A car accident? A slip and fall? A heart attack? Or, in those days, perhaps getting gored by an animal running amok? Precisely.
I am not suggesting that the victims of tragedies like these in our day are being punished for indiscretions. Even if they were guilty of certain sins (after all, aren’t we all?), in most cases it was private, and it was certainly never adjudicated in court. More likely they were not even remotely guilty of the sins of the magnitude described in our parsha. How then do we explain why tragedy struck?
We can’t. And those who think they know the answers are fools and should be shunned. Sometimes we don’t know and can’t understand the ways of God. Saying things like “it was his time” and “God wanted it this way” are the wrong things to say to people who are filled with questions.
Two final points. I read an opinion piece in Haaretz this week that suggested that as we have evolved from the punishments described in the Torah and no longer practice “an eye for an eye” and capital punishment, we should also consider getting rid of Bris Milah, as the author suggested, “Ritual circumcision is the only act of physical harm that remains.”
The author’s misunderstanding of the corporal and capital punishments aside (most of which were either monetary compensation to victims or impossible-to-enforce capital punishment), he completely misunderstands what Bris Milah is all about. The Covenant is not viewed as a punishment. It is a gift from God. The act of circumcision is an act of faith that has been adequately addressed by Rabbi Akiva almost two thousand years ago. (Midrash Tanchuma Tazria 7)
Finally, we are to understand that as much as society “evolves” the Torah’s truths remain. The punishments described for the heinous crimes and sins are meant to illustrate just how badly these specific violations tear apart the fabric of our Torah-guided society.
Our goal is to weed out sinners. And we do that through educating sinners not to sin. May we all become experts in Torah knowledge so we can not only continue to enhance our wonderful society, but be a light to the world for how to treat our fellow man.
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