Parshat Shmot
by Rabbi Avi Billet
After Moshe and Aharon are reunited and they convince the nation of Israel that they were sent by God to redeem them (4:30-31), they come and declare before Pharoah, “Send My nation to celebrate for me in the wilderness!” Pharaoh refuses, denying God’s divinity and existence, causing Moshe and Aharon to say, “The God of the Hebrews has called upon us, so let us go on a three day journey to bring offerings to our God, lest we be smitten by a plague or by the sword.” (5:1-3)
The two verses which follow this show Pharaoh’s response, but they are introduced with a subtle difference. And, while similar, have 3 other distinct differences.
The King of Egypt said to them, “Moshe and Aharon, why are you distracting the people (עם) from their work? Get back to your own business!' (5:4)
Pharaoh said, “The peasants (עם הארץ) are becoming more numerous, and you want them to take a vacation from their labors!” (5:5)
First the King of Egypt, then Pharaoh. Each one says something different. It would not be farfetched for the "king of Egypt" to say two different statements. But why does he need to be introduced twice, and each time a different way? There is particularly no need for a reintroduction since Moshe and Aharon do not respond to the things he says in verse 4.
Let us look at three different ways of understanding these noted differences.
Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch says verse 4 was the king speaking to Moshe and Aharon personally but publicly. You’re using this ‘God-talk’ to just disturb people. The king is having a premonition to the famous line uttered by Wesley at his capture in “The Princess Bride” – “We are men of action, lies do not become us.” Don’t bring some ridiculous unheard of God into any conversation of whom to worship. This is the king talking to those who have taken the role of leaders – this is a political conversation between the top diplomats of each nation.
As Pharaoh, on the other hand, he speaks to them confidentially, using the term “Am Haaretz” (which we defined above as ‘peasants’) to describe his own nation of Egyptians that has multiplied, forcing an economy that can only survive only if each subject works diligently at his occupation. You, Moshe and Aharon, are asking for the Hebrew slaves to get a week off (3 days journey, 1 day of worship, 3 days return journey). Were the slaves to get a week off, you can only imagine what kinds of vacation the Egyptian population would demand. Everyone needs to make their contribution to society! If they walk off the jobs, the economy would collapse!
The Alshikh views these verses similarly, though he reverses the interpretation, suggesting verse 4 describes the Egyptians, while verse 5 describes the Israelites.
Alshikh describes the scene in very plain terms, that Moshe and Aharon approaching the palace would cause a stir amongst the Egyptian population, many of whom would follow Moshe and Aharon to witness their impertinence in asking the king for favors, thereby abandoning their own tasks and jobs for the day. The king of the Egyptians is therefore blaming Moshe and Aharon for causing Egyptians to take a day off through distracting them.
As Pharaoh, who has caused the Israelites to be enslaved, he notes the impossibility of letting the Israelites take a day off, as they have increased manifold. Noting their increased numbers, Pharaoh then takes steps, in verses 6-9, to increase their labor, making it more difficult for them to rebel because their responsibilities – getting their own straw for the bricks instead of being supplied with it – make their brick tally so much more difficult to achieve.
Malbim notes the distinction between “Why are you distracting the people (ha’am) from their ‘work’ (‘ma’asav’ in Hebrew)?” (verse 4) and “you want the ‘am ha’aretz’ to take a vacation from their labors (‘mi’sivlotam’ in Hebrew)?” (verse 5)
‘Am’ refers to the tribe of Levi, who were exempt from labor, while ‘Am Ha’aretz’ are the poorest and lowliest of the nation, those whose labors are ‘sivlot.’ The ‘maasim’ of the Tribe of Levi refers to commerce, and work in the house and the field. ‘Sivlot’ is the back-breaking slave labor of the rest of the nation.
Being distracted (verse 4) is also different than taking a vacation (verse 5). A distraction is temporary, which is followed by the distracted person going back to work. But a vacation breaks the rhythm of never-ending labor, a rhythm which, once broken, is very difficult to return to.
Malbim argues that when Moshe came to speak to the people (in 4:30) to convince them of his being sent by God, there is no way he was able to communicate with the back-broken laborers, because they had no rest or respite from their slavery. He must have been speaking to his fellow tribesmen, Levi, who were not so consistently needed at their tasks, as they did not participate in the slave labor.
The king saying at the end of verse 4, “Go to your labors (l'sivloteicheim)!” was his way of saying, “You’re looking to get your otherwise excused tribe of Levi (the 'am') involved in slave labor? Watch yourself!” And then Pharaoh (verse 5) checked himself thinking, “If I employ the tribe of Levi and the elders, it will get the rest of the nation ('am ha'aretz'), who are many, to relax from their labors – either in protest, or because they’ll see an expansion of laborers which will cause them to take less responsibility for their own tasks.” In other words, the statement of Pharaoh (verse 5) was checking the hasty statement made by himself in his role as king (verse 4), essentially negating it so the labor will continue.
These perspectives show that there were political considerations beyond just pure evil ascribed to the king. This does not excuse how Pharaoh viewed his role, nor how Egypt as a whole enslaved the Israelites. But it is interesting to think that the people we read of were real, and were looking at a world that was not just black and white.
Every situation on a world stage is complicated. Evil can be viewed in black and white terms, but until people on different sides are able to talk to one another, understand the other perspective, and come to a table in which real agreements can be made (with each side needing to bend a bit), negotiations between opposing sides will remain difficult, if not impossibly insurmountable.
Thursday, December 31, 2015
Friday, December 25, 2015
The Bracha to Naftali
Parshat Vaychi
by Rabbi Avi Billet
On his deathbed, Yaakov gives blessings to all his children. The first three sons – Reuven, Shimon and Levi – receive farewell wishes which are not as pleasant as those given to the rest of their brothers. The remaining blessings are shrouded with depth, meaning, and a sense of prophesy. It seems that Yaakov is talking to each tribe in their present, sometimes referencing their past, but also speaking to future generations and events.
Some commentaries go into great detail to try to explain these blessings, while others lay off, as the interpretation of the blessings is a bit overwhelming.
The blessing given to Naftali is one of the shorter ones, only six words (Gad also has six, and Asher has seven words), but it is probably one of the more misunderstood blessings.
The common translation suggests Naftali is comparable to a hind, “Naftali is a deer running free; he delivers words of beauty.”
But, as Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan notes in his Chumash, each word has other possible meanings. The word Ayalah “can also be translated as a tree or plain.” Of course, once we are possibly talking about an intangible object, such as a piece of land or a tree, the phrase translated as “running free” will have to be retranslated as well. ”
This is why he offers the other translations of “Naphtali is a spreading tree, that puts out beautiful branches” quoting the Baalei Tosafot and the Malbim, and “Naphtali is a full-bearing field, that bears beautiful trees” following the view of Chizkuni, HaKtav V’Hakabbalah.
The Rav Peninim Chumash has an entry explaining the blessing of Naftali. We need to see the Hebrew words to understand: Naftali ayalah Shluchah Hanoten Imrei Shafer.
Ayalah – comes from the word Ilan, which means a tree, as per the verse in Isaiah 1:29 in which “Eilim” reference trees.
Shluchah – comes from a word which means to spread out, such as in Yechezkel 17:6, when the verb is used to mean “sent forth boughs,” or Tehillim 80:12, “It sent forth its branches to the sea.”
Hanoten – means to give
Imrei – means branches, like in the verses in Isaiah 17:6,9 in which the word “Amir” appears.
Shafer - beautiful
The Chumash Rav Peninim concludes that the passage’s meaning is a more profound message. “Naftali will be like a pleasant tree who gives off pleasant branches – which grow from it. This suggests Naftali will have great leaders who will stand like branches at the tops of trees.”
He gives a parable to what this is compared. A man had a lazy son who would stay in bed half the day. The father would rebuke him, telling him that laziness is a bad character trait which is much better replaced with “zerizut” (zeal, enthusiasm). Eventually the young man decided to listen to his father, but took it to such an extreme that even when he spoke, he exhibited “zerizut,” which is sometimes translated to mean “hurriedly.”
His father called him out on his smart-aleck ways, as the son tried explaining, “But you told me to be fast about everything.” And the father responded that “zerizut” is a good character trait for actions. But when it comes to speech, what is better is to speak with pause and inflection so that people can understand what is being said.
The blessing to Naftali reflected that he had the trait of “zerizut” in all his deeds, but was super careful in his speech to “deliver words of beauty.”
This is an important lesson on possessing leadership skills. Actions speak louder than words. But words also need to be spoken loudly and clearly, so they can be understood properly.
The question is which perspective of Naftali’s blessing is more profound. The method which has Naftali like a deer spreading nice thoughts has Naftali running from place to place. Maybe like a traveling salesman, or even a traveling teacher, who leaves his mark, hopefully leaving a good impression and a good reputation when he departs.
The perspective which compares Naftali to the branches on a tree may, in fact, be more inspiring, because a tree stands there, is visible, and can serve as a source of inspiration as it doesn’t go away. It is a constant presence in the lives of those who are reached by its branches.
We don’t need to be from the tribe of Naftali to recognize the gift that comes from those who represent either Naftali-prototype. We should be blessed to be articulate representatives of the Torah, our People and the nation of Israel, whether we are the kind of people who travel and share out message or become mainstays in our communities, powerhouses standing for who we are. We should only be blessed to find success, and be great communicators within our people and to those who turn to us to see what a Jew is.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
On his deathbed, Yaakov gives blessings to all his children. The first three sons – Reuven, Shimon and Levi – receive farewell wishes which are not as pleasant as those given to the rest of their brothers. The remaining blessings are shrouded with depth, meaning, and a sense of prophesy. It seems that Yaakov is talking to each tribe in their present, sometimes referencing their past, but also speaking to future generations and events.
Some commentaries go into great detail to try to explain these blessings, while others lay off, as the interpretation of the blessings is a bit overwhelming.
The blessing given to Naftali is one of the shorter ones, only six words (Gad also has six, and Asher has seven words), but it is probably one of the more misunderstood blessings.
The common translation suggests Naftali is comparable to a hind, “Naftali is a deer running free; he delivers words of beauty.”
But, as Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan notes in his Chumash, each word has other possible meanings. The word Ayalah “can also be translated as a tree or plain.” Of course, once we are possibly talking about an intangible object, such as a piece of land or a tree, the phrase translated as “running free” will have to be retranslated as well. ”
This is why he offers the other translations of “Naphtali is a spreading tree, that puts out beautiful branches” quoting the Baalei Tosafot and the Malbim, and “Naphtali is a full-bearing field, that bears beautiful trees” following the view of Chizkuni, HaKtav V’Hakabbalah.
The Rav Peninim Chumash has an entry explaining the blessing of Naftali. We need to see the Hebrew words to understand: Naftali ayalah Shluchah Hanoten Imrei Shafer.
Ayalah – comes from the word Ilan, which means a tree, as per the verse in Isaiah 1:29 in which “Eilim” reference trees.
Shluchah – comes from a word which means to spread out, such as in Yechezkel 17:6, when the verb is used to mean “sent forth boughs,” or Tehillim 80:12, “It sent forth its branches to the sea.”
Hanoten – means to give
Imrei – means branches, like in the verses in Isaiah 17:6,9 in which the word “Amir” appears.
Shafer - beautiful
The Chumash Rav Peninim concludes that the passage’s meaning is a more profound message. “Naftali will be like a pleasant tree who gives off pleasant branches – which grow from it. This suggests Naftali will have great leaders who will stand like branches at the tops of trees.”
He gives a parable to what this is compared. A man had a lazy son who would stay in bed half the day. The father would rebuke him, telling him that laziness is a bad character trait which is much better replaced with “zerizut” (zeal, enthusiasm). Eventually the young man decided to listen to his father, but took it to such an extreme that even when he spoke, he exhibited “zerizut,” which is sometimes translated to mean “hurriedly.”
His father called him out on his smart-aleck ways, as the son tried explaining, “But you told me to be fast about everything.” And the father responded that “zerizut” is a good character trait for actions. But when it comes to speech, what is better is to speak with pause and inflection so that people can understand what is being said.
The blessing to Naftali reflected that he had the trait of “zerizut” in all his deeds, but was super careful in his speech to “deliver words of beauty.”
This is an important lesson on possessing leadership skills. Actions speak louder than words. But words also need to be spoken loudly and clearly, so they can be understood properly.
The question is which perspective of Naftali’s blessing is more profound. The method which has Naftali like a deer spreading nice thoughts has Naftali running from place to place. Maybe like a traveling salesman, or even a traveling teacher, who leaves his mark, hopefully leaving a good impression and a good reputation when he departs.
The perspective which compares Naftali to the branches on a tree may, in fact, be more inspiring, because a tree stands there, is visible, and can serve as a source of inspiration as it doesn’t go away. It is a constant presence in the lives of those who are reached by its branches.
We don’t need to be from the tribe of Naftali to recognize the gift that comes from those who represent either Naftali-prototype. We should be blessed to be articulate representatives of the Torah, our People and the nation of Israel, whether we are the kind of people who travel and share out message or become mainstays in our communities, powerhouses standing for who we are. We should only be blessed to find success, and be great communicators within our people and to those who turn to us to see what a Jew is.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
An Installation to Remember
This past Saturday night was a memorable evening as I was installed as the rabbi at our shul.
Here is the video:
Here is the video:
Knowing the Inside Scoop of God's Plan
Parshat Vayigash
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Shortly after revealing himself to his brothers, Yosef tells them that “It has already been two years of famine throughout the land, but there will be five more years where there will be no plowing and [no] harvest.” (45:6)
Why doesn’t he just say there will be no food? Ramban translates Yosef’s statement here to mean exactly that. But if that’s what Yosef meant, why didn’t he just say it? Furthermore, why mention both? Isn’t it obvious that if you’re not plowing, you won’t be harvesting?
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Shortly after revealing himself to his brothers, Yosef tells them that “It has already been two years of famine throughout the land, but there will be five more years where there will be no plowing and [no] harvest.” (45:6)
Why doesn’t he just say there will be no food? Ramban translates Yosef’s statement here to mean exactly that. But if that’s what Yosef meant, why didn’t he just say it? Furthermore, why mention both? Isn’t it obvious that if you’re not plowing, you won’t be harvesting?
Thursday, December 10, 2015
Dreaming and Rising to the Top
Parshat Miketz
by Rabbi Avi Billet
“Strange as it seems there’s been a run of crazy dreams” sings the narrator in the musical about Joseph. And it seems that what is most needed is a dream interpreter. What a strange time to live in when people who are not prophets receive messages from the Master of the World that are, in their own way, prophetic.
Rav Amnon Bazak wrote his analysis of the dreams of these parshas pointing out the stages of the dreams in what looks like a developing pattern.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
“Strange as it seems there’s been a run of crazy dreams” sings the narrator in the musical about Joseph. And it seems that what is most needed is a dream interpreter. What a strange time to live in when people who are not prophets receive messages from the Master of the World that are, in their own way, prophetic.
Rav Amnon Bazak wrote his analysis of the dreams of these parshas pointing out the stages of the dreams in what looks like a developing pattern.
Thursday, December 3, 2015
Filling the Emptiness with Inspiration
My thanks to Rabbi Zvi Romm for the inspiration
Parshat Vayeshev (and Chanukah)
by Rabbi Avi Billet
When Yosef was confronted by the temptress, his master Potiphar’s wife, the Talmud says he was able to control himself and overcome her advances because he saw his father Yaakov's image appear "in the window." If an image popped into his head or mind, why did it specifically need to be seen in a window? The old cartoon method of having a conscience on the shoulder, countering the little red guy who is telling him to sin, might accomplish the same mission! Why the window?
Parshat Vayeshev (and Chanukah)
by Rabbi Avi Billet
When Yosef was confronted by the temptress, his master Potiphar’s wife, the Talmud says he was able to control himself and overcome her advances because he saw his father Yaakov's image appear "in the window." If an image popped into his head or mind, why did it specifically need to be seen in a window? The old cartoon method of having a conscience on the shoulder, countering the little red guy who is telling him to sin, might accomplish the same mission! Why the window?
Sunday, November 29, 2015
Vayishlach Sermon: Litman Wedding and A Response to Terror
Vayishlach
– An Affair To Remember
On Thursday I had the very special privilege, along with
many other Jews, to attend a wedding. Amazingly, it was held in my living room
– which certainly made attending it very easy. My wife was there too, as were
some of my kids. I didn’t shower or dress up special for this wedding. I had
the audacity to bring a computer and do work during the wedding. But of course
it was the computer that allowed us to attend, because the wedding was brought
into our home via livestream. Maybe some of you were there too.
I wasn’t sure if I should go. It was a last minute
invitation. I don’t really know the families. But I am glad that I went.
Because this was indeed a very special wedding.
Yaakov and Netanel Litman, father and son, were murderedin Israel a little over two weeks ago, on their way to the Aufruf Shabbos of
their daughter and sister Sarah Tehiya’s fiancée, Ariel Beigel.
The
wedding was pushed off on account of shiva, and the couple decided to invite
all of Am Yisrael to come, to dance, to rejoice, to be משמח חתן וכלה.
The
venue changed. Now to Binyanei Ha’Umah. The guest list ended up including both
Chief Rabbis and many other noted rabbinic figures in Israel, Sara Netanyahuwas in attendance, some celebrity Jewish singers came and offered their voices
to enhance the festivities.
The
bereaved bride and her family pulled all the stops on their sorrow, and were so
beautifully distracted from the pain in their life, on this evening.
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
Vayishakehu - What Happened When Eisav Encountered Yaakov?
Parshat Vayishlach
by Rabbi Avi Billet
After not having seen each other for 36 years, Yaakov returns to the Land of his fathers, to be confronted by Eisav.
After all of Yaakov’s hysterics as to how Eisav will relate to him, their encounter does not seem all that exciting. “Eisav ran to meet them. He hugged [Yaakov], and throwing himself on his shoulders, kissed him. They [both] wept.” This seems to be a favorable exchange of love and familial affection.
The odd part of the verse, however, is that the Hebrew word which means “And he kissed him” has dots over each of its letters in the Torah.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
After not having seen each other for 36 years, Yaakov returns to the Land of his fathers, to be confronted by Eisav.
After all of Yaakov’s hysterics as to how Eisav will relate to him, their encounter does not seem all that exciting. “Eisav ran to meet them. He hugged [Yaakov], and throwing himself on his shoulders, kissed him. They [both] wept.” This seems to be a favorable exchange of love and familial affection.
The odd part of the verse, however, is that the Hebrew word which means “And he kissed him” has dots over each of its letters in the Torah.
Friday, November 20, 2015
Lavan's Daughters (and Sons) - and Their Ages
Parshat Vayetze
by Rabbi Avi Billet
One of the more challenging fact-finding questions we encounter year after year is “how old are the Biblical heroes in the tales which are shared with us?” In some cases the Torah tells us, removing all doubt. We know Avraham was 75 at when he came to Canaan, 86 when Yishmael was born, 99 when he had his bris, 100 when Yitzchak was born and 175 at his death. There are many Midrashic viewpoints as to how old Avraham was when he discovered God. I’ve seen 20-days, 3, 13, 40, 48, 50, 52 years – all as legitimate options. Clearly only one of these can be correct.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
One of the more challenging fact-finding questions we encounter year after year is “how old are the Biblical heroes in the tales which are shared with us?” In some cases the Torah tells us, removing all doubt. We know Avraham was 75 at when he came to Canaan, 86 when Yishmael was born, 99 when he had his bris, 100 when Yitzchak was born and 175 at his death. There are many Midrashic viewpoints as to how old Avraham was when he discovered God. I’ve seen 20-days, 3, 13, 40, 48, 50, 52 years – all as legitimate options. Clearly only one of these can be correct.
Wednesday, November 11, 2015
This Land is NOT your Land, This Land is MY Land
Parshat Toldot
by Rabbi Avi Billet
There are a number of three-word verses in the Torah. Some of them would seem to require no commentary, as only names are mentioned. See, for example, 25:14, when three of Yishmael’s children are listed, “Mishma, Duma, Masa.” 35:24 – “Rachel’s children: Yosef and Binyamin” (four Hebrew words). See also Shmot 1:2-4, when the 11 tribes who descended to Egypt are simply listed.
Fascinatingly, some of the commentaries go off on lengthy expositions of either what to take from the verse or how to understand the three-word verse.
Bereshit 46:23 is a great example: “And the children of Dan: Chushim.”
Another classic is in Yaakov’s blessing to his sons, when he cries out, “I pray that God will help you” – “lishu’atkha kiviti Hashem” (49:18).
In our parsha, we have a seemingly inconsequential verse alerting us to Yitzchak’s settling in the city of Gerar – “Vayeshev Yitzchak B’Gerar.” (26:6) The background to the verse is that Yitzchak seemed to follow his father’s footsteps in settling in Gerar on account of a famine. God affirmed for Yitzchak that the blessing bestowed upon Avraham would be transferred to Yitzchak in his father’s merit. And now he is settling in Gerar, about to use the same rouse that his parents used, declaring himself and his wife to be siblings in order to avoid being killed in anticipation of his wife being taken to King Avimelekh’s harem.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
There are a number of three-word verses in the Torah. Some of them would seem to require no commentary, as only names are mentioned. See, for example, 25:14, when three of Yishmael’s children are listed, “Mishma, Duma, Masa.” 35:24 – “Rachel’s children: Yosef and Binyamin” (four Hebrew words). See also Shmot 1:2-4, when the 11 tribes who descended to Egypt are simply listed.
Fascinatingly, some of the commentaries go off on lengthy expositions of either what to take from the verse or how to understand the three-word verse.
Bereshit 46:23 is a great example: “And the children of Dan: Chushim.”
Another classic is in Yaakov’s blessing to his sons, when he cries out, “I pray that God will help you” – “lishu’atkha kiviti Hashem” (49:18).
In our parsha, we have a seemingly inconsequential verse alerting us to Yitzchak’s settling in the city of Gerar – “Vayeshev Yitzchak B’Gerar.” (26:6) The background to the verse is that Yitzchak seemed to follow his father’s footsteps in settling in Gerar on account of a famine. God affirmed for Yitzchak that the blessing bestowed upon Avraham would be transferred to Yitzchak in his father’s merit. And now he is settling in Gerar, about to use the same rouse that his parents used, declaring himself and his wife to be siblings in order to avoid being killed in anticipation of his wife being taken to King Avimelekh’s harem.
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
Establishing a Rebirth in the Land
Parshat Chayei Sarah
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Every year, Shabbos Chayei Sarah is accompanied by a special Jewish gathering in Hevron, the “City of the Patriarchs.” The source for this epithet is our parsha, in which we find Avraham purchasing the “field, and the cave which is in it” to serve as an “acquisition” and a burial plot for his family.
There is a strange verse which begs for explanation that describes the moment after the purchase is finalized. “Ephron's field in Makhpelah adjoining Mamre arose. [This included] the field, its cave, and every tree in the field, within its entire circumference.” (23:17)
The word which is odd is “arose” – in Hebrew, “Vayakam” – and it appears again in 23:20.
The Midrash Aggadah takes a very literal angle, claiming the land was literally elevated ½ a cubit so it would be recognizably distinguished from the other fields.
One can argue that this is the most plausible explanation. After all, every time the word “Vayakam” appears in the Torah, it means “And he got up.” Usually the person described is going somewhere or heading to do something.
However, since we are talking about a piece of land that is not moving, and despite the Midrash’s creative solution, as there is no indication of an earthquake happening in the Torah at this moment, we have to try to find a more suitable way to explain this word.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Every year, Shabbos Chayei Sarah is accompanied by a special Jewish gathering in Hevron, the “City of the Patriarchs.” The source for this epithet is our parsha, in which we find Avraham purchasing the “field, and the cave which is in it” to serve as an “acquisition” and a burial plot for his family.
There is a strange verse which begs for explanation that describes the moment after the purchase is finalized. “Ephron's field in Makhpelah adjoining Mamre arose. [This included] the field, its cave, and every tree in the field, within its entire circumference.” (23:17)
The word which is odd is “arose” – in Hebrew, “Vayakam” – and it appears again in 23:20.
The Midrash Aggadah takes a very literal angle, claiming the land was literally elevated ½ a cubit so it would be recognizably distinguished from the other fields.
One can argue that this is the most plausible explanation. After all, every time the word “Vayakam” appears in the Torah, it means “And he got up.” Usually the person described is going somewhere or heading to do something.
However, since we are talking about a piece of land that is not moving, and despite the Midrash’s creative solution, as there is no indication of an earthquake happening in the Torah at this moment, we have to try to find a more suitable way to explain this word.
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Avraham's Menu Planning
Parshat Vayera
by Rabbi Avi Billet
When the three men/angels come to visit Avraham, the Torah describes the food he offers them, bread (18:5), followed by the meal he actually gives them in 18:8. Many of the commentaries note how the Torah doesn’t mention Avraham’s giving them bread, but that does not mean that the cakes he had Sarah prepare, and the bread he promised were not delivered. If he said it, he did it. Radak similarly argues that he surely served them wine, though it isn’t mentioned. [Radak also claims the entire episode is actually a prophesy and not something that really happened.]
Compare this story to 25:34, after Yaakov makes a deal with Eisav and seals it over the soup he agreed to share. The only food discussed is the red “nazid” (stew), but then Yaakov gives bread as well, and Eisav goes on to eat (the bread and the stew), and drink (wine, presumably). Yaakov never discussed bread or any drink. But bread and wine are standard fare at ANY meal in Biblical times.
Why do we need the details of the food he gave them – Chem’ah (butter), Chalav (milk), and calf meat? [Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan records a number of possibilities of what Chem’ah is, including cottage cheese, curd, leben or yogurt, cream.] The midrash claims that angels don’t eat anyway! These angels were faking it!
by Rabbi Avi Billet
When the three men/angels come to visit Avraham, the Torah describes the food he offers them, bread (18:5), followed by the meal he actually gives them in 18:8. Many of the commentaries note how the Torah doesn’t mention Avraham’s giving them bread, but that does not mean that the cakes he had Sarah prepare, and the bread he promised were not delivered. If he said it, he did it. Radak similarly argues that he surely served them wine, though it isn’t mentioned. [Radak also claims the entire episode is actually a prophesy and not something that really happened.]
Compare this story to 25:34, after Yaakov makes a deal with Eisav and seals it over the soup he agreed to share. The only food discussed is the red “nazid” (stew), but then Yaakov gives bread as well, and Eisav goes on to eat (the bread and the stew), and drink (wine, presumably). Yaakov never discussed bread or any drink. But bread and wine are standard fare at ANY meal in Biblical times.
Why do we need the details of the food he gave them – Chem’ah (butter), Chalav (milk), and calf meat? [Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan records a number of possibilities of what Chem’ah is, including cottage cheese, curd, leben or yogurt, cream.] The midrash claims that angels don’t eat anyway! These angels were faking it!
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Lot's Failures
Parshat Lekh Lekha
by Rabbi Avi Billet
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Lot looked up and saw that the entire Jordan Plain, all the way to Tzoar had plenty of water. (This was before God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah.) It was like God's own garden, like the land of Egypt. Lot chose for himself the entire Jordan Plain. He headed eastward, and the two separated. Abram lived in the land of Canaan, while Lot dwelt in the cities of the Plain, having migrated as far as Sodom. But the people of Sodom were very wicked, and they sinned against God. (13:10-13)From one general perspective, Avram’s nephew Lot is considered to be a positive, albeit tragic figure. We give credit to the trait of hakhnosas orchim (welcoming guests) that he learned from his uncle, and the Rabbis believed Lot was eventually a judge in Sodom. There were rules about how Ammon and Moav (Lot’s sons conceived through an incestual relationship) were to be treated by Moshe and the conquering Israelites on account of the familial relationship, which were only cancelled when Moav attacked Israel in Bamidbar 24, as described in Devarim 2:9, as well as the historical note of Sichon having conquered those lands (see Bamidbar 21:26), making them available to Israel to conquer from Sichon.
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
Love Can Overcome Differences
Parshat Noach
by Rabbi Avi Billet
All Harry Potter fans know that Lily Potter gave her life for her son, and what saved his life in his various encounters with the villain of the series (who must not be named) is Love.
The theme of Love was also the savior in Madeleine L’Engle’s “A Wrinkle in Time” when minds and destinies were to be lost and destroyed were it not for love.
I am sure this theme is recast in many forms in countless successful books.
But it seems far removed from the tale of Noach, in a story in which it might have played a critical role.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
All Harry Potter fans know that Lily Potter gave her life for her son, and what saved his life in his various encounters with the villain of the series (who must not be named) is Love.
The theme of Love was also the savior in Madeleine L’Engle’s “A Wrinkle in Time” when minds and destinies were to be lost and destroyed were it not for love.
I am sure this theme is recast in many forms in countless successful books.
But it seems far removed from the tale of Noach, in a story in which it might have played a critical role.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
To See vs To Experience: Learning the "Real" Goal in Life
Parshat V'Zot HaBracha
by Rabbi Avi Billet
What is better – to see something in its entirety, or to experience a smaller portion of that entity?
This is the debate which winds itself through the commentaries on Devarim 34, as Moshe’s ascent to Mt Nebo is described and the vision he is given is interpreted.
It is interesting that Moshe is shown places with names of the tribes already assigned. It seems that God was showing him the locations that would be occupied by the specific tribes mentioned by name – they are the outer borders of the land. And the Midrash notes that Moshe was also shown visions of how these lands would be in turmoil before the land would be settled peacefully, and what things would look like when the people are in place, in their homes and living life, under God.
We are told that Moshe saw the entire land. Chizkuni and others note that Moshe saw the entire land, while Yehoshua did not merit to walk along all the places Moshe saw. After all, Yehoshua was unsuccessful in conquering the entire land – it was one of his failures as a leader. And even if he had conquered all the land, would he have walked everywhere?
I have on my table a book called “Wonders of the World” by Sandra Forty. It has pictures of some of the most amazing natural phenomena and man-made structures on Earth. Turning the pages of this book, one marvels over the works of both Creator and man. It is very unlikely that I will see many of these places in person.
Who will be better off? Someone who goes through the expense, and who has the time, to see all of these amazing wonders in person, to touch them and see them in their majesty and glory? Or me, who gets to see them all and marvel over them through the course of 30 minutes by simply turning the hundred or so pages?
It depends on one’s goal. It seems that one of Moshe’s main intentions was to be able to fulfill the mitzvot associated with the Land of Israel. Without being there, some mitzvot never applied to him and he could never fulfill them. On the other hand, maybe he wanted to experience the land that Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov walked, where they had the most special relationship with God.
He could have had many goals.
Yehoshua merited to bring the people into the Land. But his experience was mired with battles and experiences that surely took away from his ability to enjoy the land in the manner Moshe would have liked. To the point, he never accomplished his goal of having the Israelites settle the entire land, and of driving out the enemies that remained a thorn in the Israelites’ side throughout Biblical history.
What is better – a helicopter ride or a drive through? With the former you see the magnitude, the grand scale of everything, while with the latter you are much closer to feeling the space, to identifying with every rock, shrub, tree, blade of grass.
Perhaps comparing experiences is not fair – everything is in the eye of the beholder. For Moshe, that he got to see more than what Yehoshua experienced did not matter. He wasn’t as interested in seeing the entire land as he was in getting closer to God through doing mitzvot.
That is the most important take-away lesson. Certain experiences could be replaced with knowledge and education, such as looking at a coffee table book which has incredible pictures of scenery and landscapes.
The question becomes what we do with our time beyond that? Moshe spent his last moments in quiet contemplation with the Master of the World. He had his helicopter ride, it was over almost as quickly as it begun. And then he experienced the ultimate connection with the Divine.
Yehoshua was in the trenches, living real life, suffering fallbacks and setbacks and never really accomplishing what was meant to be his goal. And yet, he had great moments as well, in the land promised to the forefathers.
Let us not fall into the debate of which is better, for each has its merits. Let us instead aim to challenge ourselves to make the most of our time on earth – no matter what we see, touch or experience – so we can get as close to God as possible.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
What is better – to see something in its entirety, or to experience a smaller portion of that entity?
This is the debate which winds itself through the commentaries on Devarim 34, as Moshe’s ascent to Mt Nebo is described and the vision he is given is interpreted.
It is interesting that Moshe is shown places with names of the tribes already assigned. It seems that God was showing him the locations that would be occupied by the specific tribes mentioned by name – they are the outer borders of the land. And the Midrash notes that Moshe was also shown visions of how these lands would be in turmoil before the land would be settled peacefully, and what things would look like when the people are in place, in their homes and living life, under God.
We are told that Moshe saw the entire land. Chizkuni and others note that Moshe saw the entire land, while Yehoshua did not merit to walk along all the places Moshe saw. After all, Yehoshua was unsuccessful in conquering the entire land – it was one of his failures as a leader. And even if he had conquered all the land, would he have walked everywhere?
I have on my table a book called “Wonders of the World” by Sandra Forty. It has pictures of some of the most amazing natural phenomena and man-made structures on Earth. Turning the pages of this book, one marvels over the works of both Creator and man. It is very unlikely that I will see many of these places in person.
Who will be better off? Someone who goes through the expense, and who has the time, to see all of these amazing wonders in person, to touch them and see them in their majesty and glory? Or me, who gets to see them all and marvel over them through the course of 30 minutes by simply turning the hundred or so pages?
It depends on one’s goal. It seems that one of Moshe’s main intentions was to be able to fulfill the mitzvot associated with the Land of Israel. Without being there, some mitzvot never applied to him and he could never fulfill them. On the other hand, maybe he wanted to experience the land that Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov walked, where they had the most special relationship with God.
He could have had many goals.
Yehoshua merited to bring the people into the Land. But his experience was mired with battles and experiences that surely took away from his ability to enjoy the land in the manner Moshe would have liked. To the point, he never accomplished his goal of having the Israelites settle the entire land, and of driving out the enemies that remained a thorn in the Israelites’ side throughout Biblical history.
What is better – a helicopter ride or a drive through? With the former you see the magnitude, the grand scale of everything, while with the latter you are much closer to feeling the space, to identifying with every rock, shrub, tree, blade of grass.
Perhaps comparing experiences is not fair – everything is in the eye of the beholder. For Moshe, that he got to see more than what Yehoshua experienced did not matter. He wasn’t as interested in seeing the entire land as he was in getting closer to God through doing mitzvot.
That is the most important take-away lesson. Certain experiences could be replaced with knowledge and education, such as looking at a coffee table book which has incredible pictures of scenery and landscapes.
The question becomes what we do with our time beyond that? Moshe spent his last moments in quiet contemplation with the Master of the World. He had his helicopter ride, it was over almost as quickly as it begun. And then he experienced the ultimate connection with the Divine.
Yehoshua was in the trenches, living real life, suffering fallbacks and setbacks and never really accomplishing what was meant to be his goal. And yet, he had great moments as well, in the land promised to the forefathers.
Let us not fall into the debate of which is better, for each has its merits. Let us instead aim to challenge ourselves to make the most of our time on earth – no matter what we see, touch or experience – so we can get as close to God as possible.
Thursday, September 24, 2015
How Moshe's Punishment Has Very Little to Do With a Rock
There is very compelling evidence that Moshe was never supposed to go into the land. So why does the Torah keep harping on the incident of Mei Merivah (Bamidbar 20)?
Parshat Ha'azinu
by Rabbi Avi Billet
The song of Haazinu is troubling because it seems to describe actions and behaviors of the nation of Israel that we have never seen before in the Torah. The punishments God declares He has given and will give seem unequal to the violations committed.
Equally disturbing is how the punishment to Moshe is described in our parsha – because it is not an accurate reflection of what happened in Bamidbar 20. In 32:50 Moshe is told he will die as his brother Aharon had died (see Bamaidbar 20:22-28). In 32:51, the reason is given: “because you broke faith with me (‘m’altem bi’) in the midst of the Israelites at the Waters of Dispute at Kadesh in the Tzin Desert, and because you did not sanctify Me (‘lo kidashtem oti’) among the Israelites.”
While it is true that the event described took place, the way it is described in Bamidbar is quite different from how it is presented here.
In Bamidbar 20:12-13 the Torah tells us “God said to Moses and Aaron, 'You did not cause there to be enough faith in Me (lo he’emantem’) to cause Me to be sanctified (‘l’hakdisheini’) in the presence of the Israelites! Therefore, you shall not bring this assembly to the land that I have given you.' These are the Waters of Dispute (Mey Meribhah) where the Israelites disputed with God, and where He was [nevertheless] sanctified (‘va’y’kadesh bam’).” Eleven verses later we are told that “'Aaron will [now die and] be gathered up to his people. He will not come to the land that I am giving the Israelites because you rebelled against My word (‘asher m’ritem et pi’) at the Waters of Dispute.”
It is important to note that when referring to this incident in Bamidbar 27:14, Moshe is also told “m’ritem pi” and that you failed “l’hakdisheini.”
Strangely, some of these formulations appear once more in the Torah, in Devarim 9:23, when Moshe recounts the events surrounding the Golden Calf, and he describes the guilt of the people as “but you rebelled against the word (“vatamru et pi”) of God your Lord, and did not have faith in Him (“lo he’emantem lo”) or obey Him.
To summarize, using the Hebrew verbs describing Moshe’s and Aharon’s guilt:
At the incident with the rock - lo he’emantem and l’hakdisheini, though the latter seems to be countered by v’y’kadesh bam
Aharon’s death – m’ritem et pi
Moshe’s first direct accusation of non-compliance other than the actual event, when he was told he could not bring the nation into the land – m’ritem pi and l’hakdisheini
Moshe reminding the people of their sin at Golden Calf – vatamru and lo he’emantem
Our parsha – m’altem bi and lo kidashtem oti
It is also noteworthy that until now Moshe has been told he will not bring the people to the land (Bamidbar 20:12), and that he will see the land and then die (Bamidbar 27:13). Both options leave open the possibility that he will enter the land as a private citizen (leader emeritus, perhaps) and that he can die shortly after he sees the land for himself, even from the inside. Only in our parsha, Devarim 32:52, is Moshe finally told point-blank, you will not be going into the land (in Devarim 1:37, Moshe says he was told he will not enter the land, but we never saw God actually tell him that). In Devarim 3:27, Moshe reported that God said “you will not be crossing the Jordan” – but Moshe still had hopes that he while he might not enter the Land alive, he would be buried in the Land. The idea of seeing the land from a distance and being buried outside the land is clarified for Moshe immediately before he dies, in Devarim 34:4.
So what is going on? Why do the reasons for not entering the land differ from explanation to explanation, and from person to person?
Abravanel’s approach to the punishment meted to Aharon and Moshe pins their non-entry status on the Golden Calf and the Spies incidents, respectively. He explains God’s constant reference to the Rock incident as a cover for the real reasons, to avoid embarrassment. But the Rock episode was very mild in comparison to those other nation-shattering events. [He compares this to the mystery surrounding the deaths of Nadav and Avihu. The Torah gives us very sketchy information, while the rabbis heap a slew of accusations upon the lads, indicating the real reason for their deaths was hidden by the Torah, as it was pinned on a minor violation.]
Considering that the verse tells us in Bamidbar 20:13 (Rock incident) that God was nonetheless sanctified, it is hard to imagine that they failed to cause the people to have faith in God there. Therefore the “lo heemantem” must be linked to the other time it appears, Devarim 9:23, referring to the Sin of the Golden Calf, when the people indeed lost their faith in God. Interestingly, Moshe reports about Aharon’s death there in 10:6, after recounting how he brought down the second Tablets, even though Aharon’s death occurred 40 years later.
The act of “Me’i’lah,” of which Moshe is accused in our parsha, refers to using something holy for a mundane act. Reading Devarim 1:19-38, it is clear that the holiness of the Land was rejected for mundane reasons by the people. Additionally, they are accused of “vatamru et pi Hashem” (rebelling against God) in Devarim 1:26, smack in the middle of the description of the Spies story. And, most obviously, Moshe attaches his non-entry to the land to this incident (1:37)
There are certainly eyebrow raising details in the Rock story of Bamidbar 20. But all told, God’s name IS sanctified there – as the verse plainly states – and the rebellion of Moshe and Aharon, the misuse of something holy, and the causing a lack of faith are simply not present. Those accusations refer to these other incidents of the Spies and Golden Calf.
Referring specifically to our Parsha, Abravanel says the following, as he utilizes a creative reading to understand the text: “There are two reasons attached to the deaths of Moshe and Aharon. An impersonal one – Mei Meribah (the Rock incident), and a personal one, their earlier sins [of Golden Calf and Spies]. For both of those they are accused of “Me’i’lah,” (using holy for mundane purposes), not sanctifying, rebelling, etc… Aharon had the opportunity to sanctify God’s Name through giving up his life in place of succumbing to making the Golden Calf. This is his special mitzvah, (Vayikra 22:32) to sanctify God’s Name and not desecrate it…. Moshe rebelled and caused lack of faith first when he added to questions for what the spies should be looking for, all of which caused the people not to have faith that the Land to which they were going was a good land.”
We now understand why the accusation hurled at Moshe in our parsha does not reflect what happened in Bamidbar 20. The Rock incident was minor and was a cover to shield Moshe and Aharon from more embarrassing episodes in their lives.
Even at the final hour, when there’s nothing to lose from getting everything out on the table, God still chooses to go the route of not embarrassing His most beloved Moshe. What a lesson in piety and respect in seeing that a person’s worth and dignity is worth preserving through death!
Parshat Ha'azinu
by Rabbi Avi Billet
The song of Haazinu is troubling because it seems to describe actions and behaviors of the nation of Israel that we have never seen before in the Torah. The punishments God declares He has given and will give seem unequal to the violations committed.
Equally disturbing is how the punishment to Moshe is described in our parsha – because it is not an accurate reflection of what happened in Bamidbar 20. In 32:50 Moshe is told he will die as his brother Aharon had died (see Bamaidbar 20:22-28). In 32:51, the reason is given: “because you broke faith with me (‘m’altem bi’) in the midst of the Israelites at the Waters of Dispute at Kadesh in the Tzin Desert, and because you did not sanctify Me (‘lo kidashtem oti’) among the Israelites.”
While it is true that the event described took place, the way it is described in Bamidbar is quite different from how it is presented here.
In Bamidbar 20:12-13 the Torah tells us “God said to Moses and Aaron, 'You did not cause there to be enough faith in Me (lo he’emantem’) to cause Me to be sanctified (‘l’hakdisheini’) in the presence of the Israelites! Therefore, you shall not bring this assembly to the land that I have given you.' These are the Waters of Dispute (Mey Meribhah) where the Israelites disputed with God, and where He was [nevertheless] sanctified (‘va’y’kadesh bam’).” Eleven verses later we are told that “'Aaron will [now die and] be gathered up to his people. He will not come to the land that I am giving the Israelites because you rebelled against My word (‘asher m’ritem et pi’) at the Waters of Dispute.”
It is important to note that when referring to this incident in Bamidbar 27:14, Moshe is also told “m’ritem pi” and that you failed “l’hakdisheini.”
Strangely, some of these formulations appear once more in the Torah, in Devarim 9:23, when Moshe recounts the events surrounding the Golden Calf, and he describes the guilt of the people as “but you rebelled against the word (“vatamru et pi”) of God your Lord, and did not have faith in Him (“lo he’emantem lo”) or obey Him.
To summarize, using the Hebrew verbs describing Moshe’s and Aharon’s guilt:
At the incident with the rock - lo he’emantem and l’hakdisheini, though the latter seems to be countered by v’y’kadesh bam
Aharon’s death – m’ritem et pi
Moshe’s first direct accusation of non-compliance other than the actual event, when he was told he could not bring the nation into the land – m’ritem pi and l’hakdisheini
Moshe reminding the people of their sin at Golden Calf – vatamru and lo he’emantem
Our parsha – m’altem bi and lo kidashtem oti
It is also noteworthy that until now Moshe has been told he will not bring the people to the land (Bamidbar 20:12), and that he will see the land and then die (Bamidbar 27:13). Both options leave open the possibility that he will enter the land as a private citizen (leader emeritus, perhaps) and that he can die shortly after he sees the land for himself, even from the inside. Only in our parsha, Devarim 32:52, is Moshe finally told point-blank, you will not be going into the land (in Devarim 1:37, Moshe says he was told he will not enter the land, but we never saw God actually tell him that). In Devarim 3:27, Moshe reported that God said “you will not be crossing the Jordan” – but Moshe still had hopes that he while he might not enter the Land alive, he would be buried in the Land. The idea of seeing the land from a distance and being buried outside the land is clarified for Moshe immediately before he dies, in Devarim 34:4.
So what is going on? Why do the reasons for not entering the land differ from explanation to explanation, and from person to person?
Abravanel’s approach to the punishment meted to Aharon and Moshe pins their non-entry status on the Golden Calf and the Spies incidents, respectively. He explains God’s constant reference to the Rock incident as a cover for the real reasons, to avoid embarrassment. But the Rock episode was very mild in comparison to those other nation-shattering events. [He compares this to the mystery surrounding the deaths of Nadav and Avihu. The Torah gives us very sketchy information, while the rabbis heap a slew of accusations upon the lads, indicating the real reason for their deaths was hidden by the Torah, as it was pinned on a minor violation.]
Considering that the verse tells us in Bamidbar 20:13 (Rock incident) that God was nonetheless sanctified, it is hard to imagine that they failed to cause the people to have faith in God there. Therefore the “lo heemantem” must be linked to the other time it appears, Devarim 9:23, referring to the Sin of the Golden Calf, when the people indeed lost their faith in God. Interestingly, Moshe reports about Aharon’s death there in 10:6, after recounting how he brought down the second Tablets, even though Aharon’s death occurred 40 years later.
The act of “Me’i’lah,” of which Moshe is accused in our parsha, refers to using something holy for a mundane act. Reading Devarim 1:19-38, it is clear that the holiness of the Land was rejected for mundane reasons by the people. Additionally, they are accused of “vatamru et pi Hashem” (rebelling against God) in Devarim 1:26, smack in the middle of the description of the Spies story. And, most obviously, Moshe attaches his non-entry to the land to this incident (1:37)
There are certainly eyebrow raising details in the Rock story of Bamidbar 20. But all told, God’s name IS sanctified there – as the verse plainly states – and the rebellion of Moshe and Aharon, the misuse of something holy, and the causing a lack of faith are simply not present. Those accusations refer to these other incidents of the Spies and Golden Calf.
Referring specifically to our Parsha, Abravanel says the following, as he utilizes a creative reading to understand the text: “There are two reasons attached to the deaths of Moshe and Aharon. An impersonal one – Mei Meribah (the Rock incident), and a personal one, their earlier sins [of Golden Calf and Spies]. For both of those they are accused of “Me’i’lah,” (using holy for mundane purposes), not sanctifying, rebelling, etc… Aharon had the opportunity to sanctify God’s Name through giving up his life in place of succumbing to making the Golden Calf. This is his special mitzvah, (Vayikra 22:32) to sanctify God’s Name and not desecrate it…. Moshe rebelled and caused lack of faith first when he added to questions for what the spies should be looking for, all of which caused the people not to have faith that the Land to which they were going was a good land.”
We now understand why the accusation hurled at Moshe in our parsha does not reflect what happened in Bamidbar 20. The Rock incident was minor and was a cover to shield Moshe and Aharon from more embarrassing episodes in their lives.
Even at the final hour, when there’s nothing to lose from getting everything out on the table, God still chooses to go the route of not embarrassing His most beloved Moshe. What a lesson in piety and respect in seeing that a person’s worth and dignity is worth preserving through death!
Friday, September 18, 2015
A Gathering To Unite - If Only...
Parshat Vayelekh
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Shabbos Shuva is named for the first word in the Haftorah, but it also refers to the fact that the Shabbos falls between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, at a time when our people are experiencing the “Aseret Y’mei Teshuvah” – the Ten Days Of Repentance.
How do we repent? What needs to be done. I suppose the classic answers have been talked about – not saying Lashon hora, treating each other nicely, and of course, making amends with God over our misdeeds.
Devarim 31:10-13 contains what the Sefer Hachinukh lists as commandment number 612, the mitzvah of “Hak’hel.” This commandment is fulfilled every seven years at the end of a shmittah year, as all of the Jewish people gather in Jerusalem during the holiday of Sukkot to hear portions of the Torah read aloud. While this Biblical commandment is time dependent, the category from which women are generally exempt from obligation, this is one of the exceptions to the rule (the others are Shabbat and eating matzah on Pesach – see Kiddushin 34a-b) (there are many time-dependent Rabbinic commandments to which women are bound).
Collectively the entire nation would hear the king read different portions, altogether over half, of the book of Devarim.
Surely this spectacle was memorable, with the king at the center and trumpets sounding. The Torah was heralded between the king and the high priest and the members of the “Knesset” (not Israel’s modern day parliament), and the king would recite seven blessings praising God, the Jewish people, and the relationship they shared, before he actually read the Torah.
A once in seven years experience is certainly a source of inspiration. Ask anyone who has been to the Siyum Hashas. But even such inspiration often falls short of lasting through to the next gathering of the masses, if it even lasts one month.
Hak’hel was never the same as the tri-annual “aliyah l’regel” of the holidays. Not everyone went every holiday, and not everyone could afford to make the trip so often. But once every seven years gives people enough time to budget and to plan, to make sure they are there to fulfill this great mitzvah.
How could the event of Hak’hel serve as the inspiration it is meant to be if it only takes place once every seven years?
It would seem every seven years Jews are meant to have a unifying moment. We go to our homes, to our communities, to our own lives and we tend to lose sight of the greater picture of the Jewish community, what we collectively share and value and do to enhance our lives. Hak’hel serves as a reminder for this.
The hak’hel moment is meant to inspire other experiences, to inspire a lifestyle, to inspire a regimen of continued education and learning that reflects all the spiritual grandeur invoked in the heartfelt reading of the Jewish king on that day in the Beit Hamikdash on the holiday of Sukkot. Hak’hel should be the climax, not the initiation. We should be living an ongoing life of inspiration which reaches its pinnacle moment when we gather after an extended period of separation.
This year has its own rules for the use of Etrogim that come out of Israel, owing to the completion of the recent Shmittah (Sabbatical) year. Hakhel’s seven year cycle was related to Shmittah, so we have a deeper connection than usual this year to this special mitzvah.
But in the absence of the Beit Hamikdash, we do not experience Hak’hel. So what can it mean for us today?
The answer is quite simple. Hak’hel is a gathering most symbolic of the unity of the Jewish people. It is a time when the Jewish people were reminded that “there is more that unites you than divides you.”
This message is particularly poignant at this moment in history. I have had a number of political debates with religious Jews over the Iran deal. It seems to be a done deal, and we hope for the best.
But I have a very difficult time understanding how Jews who advance all the talking points of the proponents of the deal think they know what’s best for Israel’s security, and are critical of Israel’s prime minister for looking out for the security needs of his country, in a very hostile and dysfunctional Middle East.
Even US politicians who support the deal say Iran can’t be trusted. And Israel is much closer to Iran geographically than the United States is to Iran.
I don’t know if sins in political moves require teshuva. And truth be told, it is hard to make a judgment call of who is right or wrong, especially when people have very strong opinions that will not be swayed.
But the Jewish people need to be united, because, as the old saying goes, “United we stand” while “divided” – as we surely have been over these political dealings – “we fall.”
If only we could create a real hak-hel, we’d see how much we have in common. If only.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Shabbos Shuva is named for the first word in the Haftorah, but it also refers to the fact that the Shabbos falls between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, at a time when our people are experiencing the “Aseret Y’mei Teshuvah” – the Ten Days Of Repentance.
How do we repent? What needs to be done. I suppose the classic answers have been talked about – not saying Lashon hora, treating each other nicely, and of course, making amends with God over our misdeeds.
Devarim 31:10-13 contains what the Sefer Hachinukh lists as commandment number 612, the mitzvah of “Hak’hel.” This commandment is fulfilled every seven years at the end of a shmittah year, as all of the Jewish people gather in Jerusalem during the holiday of Sukkot to hear portions of the Torah read aloud. While this Biblical commandment is time dependent, the category from which women are generally exempt from obligation, this is one of the exceptions to the rule (the others are Shabbat and eating matzah on Pesach – see Kiddushin 34a-b) (there are many time-dependent Rabbinic commandments to which women are bound).
Collectively the entire nation would hear the king read different portions, altogether over half, of the book of Devarim.
Surely this spectacle was memorable, with the king at the center and trumpets sounding. The Torah was heralded between the king and the high priest and the members of the “Knesset” (not Israel’s modern day parliament), and the king would recite seven blessings praising God, the Jewish people, and the relationship they shared, before he actually read the Torah.
A once in seven years experience is certainly a source of inspiration. Ask anyone who has been to the Siyum Hashas. But even such inspiration often falls short of lasting through to the next gathering of the masses, if it even lasts one month.
Hak’hel was never the same as the tri-annual “aliyah l’regel” of the holidays. Not everyone went every holiday, and not everyone could afford to make the trip so often. But once every seven years gives people enough time to budget and to plan, to make sure they are there to fulfill this great mitzvah.
How could the event of Hak’hel serve as the inspiration it is meant to be if it only takes place once every seven years?
It would seem every seven years Jews are meant to have a unifying moment. We go to our homes, to our communities, to our own lives and we tend to lose sight of the greater picture of the Jewish community, what we collectively share and value and do to enhance our lives. Hak’hel serves as a reminder for this.
The hak’hel moment is meant to inspire other experiences, to inspire a lifestyle, to inspire a regimen of continued education and learning that reflects all the spiritual grandeur invoked in the heartfelt reading of the Jewish king on that day in the Beit Hamikdash on the holiday of Sukkot. Hak’hel should be the climax, not the initiation. We should be living an ongoing life of inspiration which reaches its pinnacle moment when we gather after an extended period of separation.
This year has its own rules for the use of Etrogim that come out of Israel, owing to the completion of the recent Shmittah (Sabbatical) year. Hakhel’s seven year cycle was related to Shmittah, so we have a deeper connection than usual this year to this special mitzvah.
But in the absence of the Beit Hamikdash, we do not experience Hak’hel. So what can it mean for us today?
The answer is quite simple. Hak’hel is a gathering most symbolic of the unity of the Jewish people. It is a time when the Jewish people were reminded that “there is more that unites you than divides you.”
This message is particularly poignant at this moment in history. I have had a number of political debates with religious Jews over the Iran deal. It seems to be a done deal, and we hope for the best.
But I have a very difficult time understanding how Jews who advance all the talking points of the proponents of the deal think they know what’s best for Israel’s security, and are critical of Israel’s prime minister for looking out for the security needs of his country, in a very hostile and dysfunctional Middle East.
Even US politicians who support the deal say Iran can’t be trusted. And Israel is much closer to Iran geographically than the United States is to Iran.
I don’t know if sins in political moves require teshuva. And truth be told, it is hard to make a judgment call of who is right or wrong, especially when people have very strong opinions that will not be swayed.
But the Jewish people need to be united, because, as the old saying goes, “United we stand” while “divided” – as we surely have been over these political dealings – “we fall.”
If only we could create a real hak-hel, we’d see how much we have in common. If only.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
The "Holy" Aspect of Jewish Peoplehood
Parshat Nitzavim
by Rabbi Avi Billet
The biggest news story of the week (other than the Iran deal) was about a clerk in Kentucky who has a fundamentalist viewpoint on understanding the Bible.
Regardless of one’s view of the story, some of the reaction I have seen in social media includes a clip from the West Wing, in which Martin Sheen’s character asks a similar-minded (to the Kentucky clerk) person a series of questions asking if certain fundamentalist views of stoning and putting to death from the Bible ought to also be listened to since “they’re in the Bible.”
Watching this narrative play out, I am grateful not only that the Torah was given to the Jewish people – and not to people who understand it on its surface level – but that we also have an oral tradition that helps us understand the parts of the Torah that are difficult to understand. We know that the death penalty, for example, was hardly ever carried out because of our abhorrence of violence, as well as all the technicalities that otherwise prevent a death sentence being issued.
We know that the Torah’s rules were given to the Jewish people, and with the exception of the Noahide laws, they are not binding on people of other faiths.
People of faiths that do not observe Rosh Hashana this Sunday night (Bamidbar 29:1) don’t have to follow the rules of kosher eating, or Sabbath, or any other laws that were established in God’s Torah for the children of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov.
And this point is established very clearly in the fourth verse of our parsha, when Moshe reminds the people that they are being brought into the covenant, “He is establishing you as His nation, so that He will be a God to you, just as He promised you, and as He swore to your ancestors, Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov.”
A simple question could be asked. Why is this wonderful promise of a covenant with God prefaced by the terrible rebuke of chapter 28? Why is there so much warning and punishment facing this nation, especially if God loved the forefathers and wants their descendants to be His special nation?
In the Or HaChaim’s view, the answer is really quite simple. If you know the repercussions of your deeds, and how devastating they can be, you’ll have no interest in rebelling against His Godliness. You will always maintain the connection with Him.
Or HaChaim offers a second reason as well. There is a reason that God wants this nation. Because at this point, under Moshe’s leadership, the nation is identified as an “Am Kadosh,” a holy nation. This nation, the descendants of God’s beloved Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, have the capacity to achieve a holiness that is unmatched in God’s eyes, by any other nation.
Using the language Yosef uses to explain to his brothers why his being sold to Egypt was actually good, Or HaChaim suggests that the rebuke’s strong language is merely to affirm for Israel that they are God’s nation. Without the Rebuke, one day a person will commit a mild infraction and the next day he’ll commit a severe one, and each slip will take Israelites away from being the “Adat HaKedusha” – the community of Holiness.
The message Or HaChaim concludes with is that we must look out for one another to create a communal mind that prevents sinning. This is what helps us create a nation of destiny. And this, he explains, is only for our own good, to help us survive as a people.
It is a shame that too often what unites us is tragedy and suffering. How many people were numbed by the terrible car crash in the Catskills on Monday, that took the lives of three wonderful people?
We have our Torah, we learn it, we study it, we connect with it in the deepest of ways. And we must connect with our fellow religionists, not only in times of tragedy, but also in good times, when the spirit all around is upbeat.
We all have different views of the world, and there are times when we disagree. But the lesson we can take at this time of year is that we have so much more in common than not. And our commonality begins with Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, and ends in the place we all agree to tap into our shared experiences as their descendants.
The more united we are, the more holiness we can achieve. It is our learning and our dedication to what we do that helps us become this holy nation, through proper understanding of the Torah and through the actions that define who we are.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
The biggest news story of the week (other than the Iran deal) was about a clerk in Kentucky who has a fundamentalist viewpoint on understanding the Bible.
Regardless of one’s view of the story, some of the reaction I have seen in social media includes a clip from the West Wing, in which Martin Sheen’s character asks a similar-minded (to the Kentucky clerk) person a series of questions asking if certain fundamentalist views of stoning and putting to death from the Bible ought to also be listened to since “they’re in the Bible.”
Watching this narrative play out, I am grateful not only that the Torah was given to the Jewish people – and not to people who understand it on its surface level – but that we also have an oral tradition that helps us understand the parts of the Torah that are difficult to understand. We know that the death penalty, for example, was hardly ever carried out because of our abhorrence of violence, as well as all the technicalities that otherwise prevent a death sentence being issued.
We know that the Torah’s rules were given to the Jewish people, and with the exception of the Noahide laws, they are not binding on people of other faiths.
People of faiths that do not observe Rosh Hashana this Sunday night (Bamidbar 29:1) don’t have to follow the rules of kosher eating, or Sabbath, or any other laws that were established in God’s Torah for the children of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov.
And this point is established very clearly in the fourth verse of our parsha, when Moshe reminds the people that they are being brought into the covenant, “He is establishing you as His nation, so that He will be a God to you, just as He promised you, and as He swore to your ancestors, Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov.”
A simple question could be asked. Why is this wonderful promise of a covenant with God prefaced by the terrible rebuke of chapter 28? Why is there so much warning and punishment facing this nation, especially if God loved the forefathers and wants their descendants to be His special nation?
In the Or HaChaim’s view, the answer is really quite simple. If you know the repercussions of your deeds, and how devastating they can be, you’ll have no interest in rebelling against His Godliness. You will always maintain the connection with Him.
Or HaChaim offers a second reason as well. There is a reason that God wants this nation. Because at this point, under Moshe’s leadership, the nation is identified as an “Am Kadosh,” a holy nation. This nation, the descendants of God’s beloved Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, have the capacity to achieve a holiness that is unmatched in God’s eyes, by any other nation.
Using the language Yosef uses to explain to his brothers why his being sold to Egypt was actually good, Or HaChaim suggests that the rebuke’s strong language is merely to affirm for Israel that they are God’s nation. Without the Rebuke, one day a person will commit a mild infraction and the next day he’ll commit a severe one, and each slip will take Israelites away from being the “Adat HaKedusha” – the community of Holiness.
The message Or HaChaim concludes with is that we must look out for one another to create a communal mind that prevents sinning. This is what helps us create a nation of destiny. And this, he explains, is only for our own good, to help us survive as a people.
It is a shame that too often what unites us is tragedy and suffering. How many people were numbed by the terrible car crash in the Catskills on Monday, that took the lives of three wonderful people?
We have our Torah, we learn it, we study it, we connect with it in the deepest of ways. And we must connect with our fellow religionists, not only in times of tragedy, but also in good times, when the spirit all around is upbeat.
We all have different views of the world, and there are times when we disagree. But the lesson we can take at this time of year is that we have so much more in common than not. And our commonality begins with Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, and ends in the place we all agree to tap into our shared experiences as their descendants.
The more united we are, the more holiness we can achieve. It is our learning and our dedication to what we do that helps us become this holy nation, through proper understanding of the Torah and through the actions that define who we are.
Friday, September 4, 2015
The Clarity of Having Consequences
Parshat Ki Tavo
by Rabbi Avi Billet
With the Ashkenazic community beginning Selichot this Saturday night, with Rosh Hashana around a week and a half away, bringing with it the Day of Judgment, we are left to examine our deeds, our choices, our lives, and look at where we have brought ourselves, and where we are headed.
At this particular juncture in history, we are also faced with the stark reality of an economic “peace” deal with a rogue terrorist nation that may become the reality of our world in the near future.
Irrespective of one’s political views and loyalties, it is hard to imagine how an “agreement” with Iran, an avowed enemy of the United States and Israel, will be followed by that enemy, when the leadership of Iran has no track record of being honest in any effort towards fostering peace in the world.
With so much at stake, with Israel being geographically so close to Iran, one wonders what it all means? Is this a test? Could we wake up one morning to see the landscape of the Middle East altered forever? I certainly hope not. Which is why we must do whatever we can to tell our representatives that this will not be good for the U.S. or Israel.
Jeffrey Goldberg wrote an article for The Atlantic, dated August 27, 2015, entitled “10 Questions for President Obama About Iran.” The questions are Robert Satloff’s and the fifth question includes this: “You refused to spell out the penalties Iran would suffer for violations of the agreement… [as it might] potentially lessen the deterrent effect… [yet] as a constitutional law professor, you can appreciate that having clarity in terms of penalties for lawbreaking is a basic element of our legal system.”
When one looks at our parsha, one can’t help be overwhelmed by the penalties declared upon the Jewish people for breaking God’s law. History has proven over and over again that God’s law is meant to triumph over man’s whim. And it has.
To be fair, the Torah also proclaims the blessings for good behavior and for following the Torah, and it is this focus which gives a positive side to an otherwise depressing Torah portion.
When looking at the section of the Tochacha (Rebuke), what is the most frightening sentiment in there? I suppose this question, polled to 100 people, might get close to 100 different answers. But I think that the opening statement is the scariest thought. “If you do not obey God your Lord and do not carefully keep all His commandments and decrees as I am prescribing them for you today…” (28:15)
Forget about the rest of the sentence. It doesn’t matter. Can we imagine the Jewish people – who lived a miraculous existence in the wilderness, who were one generation removed from Revelation at Sinai (some of them may have experienced Revelation as children and were not subject to the decree of dying in the wilderness), even considering not obeying God?
And yet we see it all the time. We are ourselves guilty often enough, of not obeying and keeping the commandments. And we excuse our behavior with the “li’l ole me” argument: Does God really care what li’l ole me does? Is my being unscrupulous really such a big deal – I’m just one little person? Is my violation really going to shake the world, I’m a nobody anyway! And besides, look how humble I am!
The answer to these questions is irrelevant. There are plenty of instances in the Bible where one person made a difference, for good or for bad, either saving the entire nation, or causing massive destruction. Some of the good ones include Pinchas (Bamidbar 28), Yael (Shoftim 4), Yonatan (Shmuel I 14). The bad ones include Korach, Zimri (Bamidbar 28), Achan (Yehoshua 7).
In this particular time, when Christians who support Israel often quote the verse from Bereshit 12:3, when God promises Avraham, “I will bless those who bless you, and those who curse you, I will curse,” it behooves us to deserve being called the children of Abraham. And we earn this honorific by honoring our God and following His laws to the best of our abilities.
We do not have a crystal ball to know what the future will bring. We need to do our part to communicate with our representatives, and we need to pray that God will give them the proper guidance to do what is best for the United States, for Israel, and for the world.
And, particularly as we head into the High Holiday season, we need to not only vamp up our prayers, but we need to raise the bar on our commitment, so God can never say about us “If you do not obey God your Lord and do not carefully keep all His commandments.” We understand quite well what consequences are. Our people have suffered much since the destruction of the Temple.
If consequences were made clear for what violations on Iran’s part would translate to, there might be a different perspective to be had. But with no consequences, Iran has nothing to lose in following its veteran ways of marching to their own drum.
Hopefully if we do our part, the blessings of the parsha will come true, and Iran will no longer be a threat to our People across the globe, especially in Israel. Amen.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
With the Ashkenazic community beginning Selichot this Saturday night, with Rosh Hashana around a week and a half away, bringing with it the Day of Judgment, we are left to examine our deeds, our choices, our lives, and look at where we have brought ourselves, and where we are headed.
At this particular juncture in history, we are also faced with the stark reality of an economic “peace” deal with a rogue terrorist nation that may become the reality of our world in the near future.
Irrespective of one’s political views and loyalties, it is hard to imagine how an “agreement” with Iran, an avowed enemy of the United States and Israel, will be followed by that enemy, when the leadership of Iran has no track record of being honest in any effort towards fostering peace in the world.
With so much at stake, with Israel being geographically so close to Iran, one wonders what it all means? Is this a test? Could we wake up one morning to see the landscape of the Middle East altered forever? I certainly hope not. Which is why we must do whatever we can to tell our representatives that this will not be good for the U.S. or Israel.
Jeffrey Goldberg wrote an article for The Atlantic, dated August 27, 2015, entitled “10 Questions for President Obama About Iran.” The questions are Robert Satloff’s and the fifth question includes this: “You refused to spell out the penalties Iran would suffer for violations of the agreement… [as it might] potentially lessen the deterrent effect… [yet] as a constitutional law professor, you can appreciate that having clarity in terms of penalties for lawbreaking is a basic element of our legal system.”
When one looks at our parsha, one can’t help be overwhelmed by the penalties declared upon the Jewish people for breaking God’s law. History has proven over and over again that God’s law is meant to triumph over man’s whim. And it has.
To be fair, the Torah also proclaims the blessings for good behavior and for following the Torah, and it is this focus which gives a positive side to an otherwise depressing Torah portion.
When looking at the section of the Tochacha (Rebuke), what is the most frightening sentiment in there? I suppose this question, polled to 100 people, might get close to 100 different answers. But I think that the opening statement is the scariest thought. “If you do not obey God your Lord and do not carefully keep all His commandments and decrees as I am prescribing them for you today…” (28:15)
Forget about the rest of the sentence. It doesn’t matter. Can we imagine the Jewish people – who lived a miraculous existence in the wilderness, who were one generation removed from Revelation at Sinai (some of them may have experienced Revelation as children and were not subject to the decree of dying in the wilderness), even considering not obeying God?
And yet we see it all the time. We are ourselves guilty often enough, of not obeying and keeping the commandments. And we excuse our behavior with the “li’l ole me” argument: Does God really care what li’l ole me does? Is my being unscrupulous really such a big deal – I’m just one little person? Is my violation really going to shake the world, I’m a nobody anyway! And besides, look how humble I am!
The answer to these questions is irrelevant. There are plenty of instances in the Bible where one person made a difference, for good or for bad, either saving the entire nation, or causing massive destruction. Some of the good ones include Pinchas (Bamidbar 28), Yael (Shoftim 4), Yonatan (Shmuel I 14). The bad ones include Korach, Zimri (Bamidbar 28), Achan (Yehoshua 7).
In this particular time, when Christians who support Israel often quote the verse from Bereshit 12:3, when God promises Avraham, “I will bless those who bless you, and those who curse you, I will curse,” it behooves us to deserve being called the children of Abraham. And we earn this honorific by honoring our God and following His laws to the best of our abilities.
We do not have a crystal ball to know what the future will bring. We need to do our part to communicate with our representatives, and we need to pray that God will give them the proper guidance to do what is best for the United States, for Israel, and for the world.
And, particularly as we head into the High Holiday season, we need to not only vamp up our prayers, but we need to raise the bar on our commitment, so God can never say about us “If you do not obey God your Lord and do not carefully keep all His commandments.” We understand quite well what consequences are. Our people have suffered much since the destruction of the Temple.
If consequences were made clear for what violations on Iran’s part would translate to, there might be a different perspective to be had. But with no consequences, Iran has nothing to lose in following its veteran ways of marching to their own drum.
Hopefully if we do our part, the blessings of the parsha will come true, and Iran will no longer be a threat to our People across the globe, especially in Israel. Amen.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
No (Male) Moabites - A Reminder To Forgive and Move On
Parshat Ki Tetze
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Everyone who is familiar with the story of Ruth knows the Talmudic sentiment (Yevamot 69a, 77a and Ketuvot 7b) that a Moabite female is permitted to join the Jewish people. The Talmud has a classic word-game which helps clarify the mitzvah in Devarim 23:4-7, that an Ammonite and a Moabite may never join the Jewish people.
The Torah gives two reasons for the mitzvah: “Because they did not greet you with bread and water when you were on the way out of Egypt, and also because they hired Balaam son of Beor from Pethor in Aram Naharaim to curse you.” (23:5) (Compare this to Devarim 2:29)
It is understandable that the Moabites would be viewed negatively in that generation. But forever? The modern reader will certainly be troubled by what seems to be a racial sentiment in this law, that there is an inherent flaw in Moabite males that can never be undone, that there is no way Moabite men can ever overcome their natural feelings towards the Jewish people, no matter how society evolves and the world changes.
Could this really be the Torah’s message?
To call this a racial flaw is wrong, simply because Moabite women are welcome to join the Jewish people. But putting the Moabite men in such a category seems to fall under the rubric of a national “punishment” – irrespective of an individual’s behavior – that can last forever.
There is much more background to this story that is needed to help us understand the Torah’s message. Firstly, Ammon and Moav were children of Avraham’s nephew Lot. This made them, in Torah terms, brothers with the Israelite nation. They were untouchable and their land was untouchable. However, owing to the fact that Sichon King of Emori had conquered the lands of Ammon and Moav (Bamidbar 21:26), their original lands were no longer unavailable to the Israelites. When Sichon came out to attack (Bamidbar 21:23), he opened himself to losing all his lands, including those he had conquered himself.
See how Israel treated Edom (Bamidbar 20:14-21), Esav’s kin, offering to merely pass through their land while reminding them “We are your brothers, you know what we’ve been through,” we have no issues with you as we are merely going to retrieve our Promised Land. There is no reason to assume they would have treated Moav any differently (See Shoftim 11:18). And yet, Moav spends an entire Torah portion (Parshat Balak) trying to destroy the Israelite nation through necromancy and the curses of Bilaam.
The Midrash Tanaim raises the possibility that “when you come to a city to fight, you should first offer peace” includes reaching out in this fashion to the Ammon and Moav nations, but concludes that it does not include them. But then the Midrash goes on to recount an episode when a potential Ammonite convert came to the religious court during the Talmudic period. Rabban Gamliel told him he could not join the Jewish people, while Rabbi Shimon said he could. When Rabban Gamliel challenged Rabbi Shimon based on the verse in the Torah, Rabbi Yehoshua countered saying that Sennacherib had thrown the world into disarray replacing populations, and there was no longer any truly identifiable Ammonite or Moabite.
In simple terms, this would suggest that God had a plan for a certain amount of time, knowing that Sennacherib would come along one day and neutralize this law – along with the law of killing Amalekites, etc.
Another answer is one that I first read in a sermon of Rabbi Norman Lamm from the 1960s in which he decried judging the Torah’s laws and narrative based on modern sensibilities which tend to be become more liberal over time.
And yet, maybe there is something to the everlasting grudge. Ramban says, “Even though they are your family, and Avraham your father loved their father [Lot] like a brother, you cannot be brothers with them, because they abrogated the covenant of brotherhood, and destroyed it forever.” Certainly until Sennacherib, the national punishment against the male Moabite population would be carried forever. This is not about the individuals – it is a collective rule that no Moabite can become an Israelite.
In our modern world, we often look to sins of the past and say “we are not like those people any more. We have evolved. We have tolerance and patience now.” Think about the relationship between Jews and Christians for millennia, blacks and whites for centuries in the Americas, and all the politics which were attached to the Confederate Battle Flag in the aftermath of the tragic shooting in mid-June at the AME Church in South Carolina mid-June. Christians are often the biggest supporters of Israel, racism is not allowed in the US as an official policy, and long-time Southerners have had to express that the Confederate flag stands for honor and not racism, at the same time as it is being pulled off of flagpoles at public buildings. Society evolves. Thanks to Sennacherib, even the Moabite could join the Jewish people today.
And yet I know people who had a fallout and will never ever move past their fight. They will never forgive. They will never pick up the phone and make the call to move on in peace. There is a piece of human nature in this. But it is unhealthy for a society, and especially for a Jewish community, to see these kinds of attitudes in play.
Rosh Hashana is fast approaching. We need to find a way to put the hurt behind us, and foment peace in our own ranks. Only then will our Teshuvah (repentance) be complete.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Everyone who is familiar with the story of Ruth knows the Talmudic sentiment (Yevamot 69a, 77a and Ketuvot 7b) that a Moabite female is permitted to join the Jewish people. The Talmud has a classic word-game which helps clarify the mitzvah in Devarim 23:4-7, that an Ammonite and a Moabite may never join the Jewish people.
The Torah gives two reasons for the mitzvah: “Because they did not greet you with bread and water when you were on the way out of Egypt, and also because they hired Balaam son of Beor from Pethor in Aram Naharaim to curse you.” (23:5) (Compare this to Devarim 2:29)
It is understandable that the Moabites would be viewed negatively in that generation. But forever? The modern reader will certainly be troubled by what seems to be a racial sentiment in this law, that there is an inherent flaw in Moabite males that can never be undone, that there is no way Moabite men can ever overcome their natural feelings towards the Jewish people, no matter how society evolves and the world changes.
Could this really be the Torah’s message?
To call this a racial flaw is wrong, simply because Moabite women are welcome to join the Jewish people. But putting the Moabite men in such a category seems to fall under the rubric of a national “punishment” – irrespective of an individual’s behavior – that can last forever.
There is much more background to this story that is needed to help us understand the Torah’s message. Firstly, Ammon and Moav were children of Avraham’s nephew Lot. This made them, in Torah terms, brothers with the Israelite nation. They were untouchable and their land was untouchable. However, owing to the fact that Sichon King of Emori had conquered the lands of Ammon and Moav (Bamidbar 21:26), their original lands were no longer unavailable to the Israelites. When Sichon came out to attack (Bamidbar 21:23), he opened himself to losing all his lands, including those he had conquered himself.
See how Israel treated Edom (Bamidbar 20:14-21), Esav’s kin, offering to merely pass through their land while reminding them “We are your brothers, you know what we’ve been through,” we have no issues with you as we are merely going to retrieve our Promised Land. There is no reason to assume they would have treated Moav any differently (See Shoftim 11:18). And yet, Moav spends an entire Torah portion (Parshat Balak) trying to destroy the Israelite nation through necromancy and the curses of Bilaam.
The Midrash Tanaim raises the possibility that “when you come to a city to fight, you should first offer peace” includes reaching out in this fashion to the Ammon and Moav nations, but concludes that it does not include them. But then the Midrash goes on to recount an episode when a potential Ammonite convert came to the religious court during the Talmudic period. Rabban Gamliel told him he could not join the Jewish people, while Rabbi Shimon said he could. When Rabban Gamliel challenged Rabbi Shimon based on the verse in the Torah, Rabbi Yehoshua countered saying that Sennacherib had thrown the world into disarray replacing populations, and there was no longer any truly identifiable Ammonite or Moabite.
In simple terms, this would suggest that God had a plan for a certain amount of time, knowing that Sennacherib would come along one day and neutralize this law – along with the law of killing Amalekites, etc.
Another answer is one that I first read in a sermon of Rabbi Norman Lamm from the 1960s in which he decried judging the Torah’s laws and narrative based on modern sensibilities which tend to be become more liberal over time.
And yet, maybe there is something to the everlasting grudge. Ramban says, “Even though they are your family, and Avraham your father loved their father [Lot] like a brother, you cannot be brothers with them, because they abrogated the covenant of brotherhood, and destroyed it forever.” Certainly until Sennacherib, the national punishment against the male Moabite population would be carried forever. This is not about the individuals – it is a collective rule that no Moabite can become an Israelite.
In our modern world, we often look to sins of the past and say “we are not like those people any more. We have evolved. We have tolerance and patience now.” Think about the relationship between Jews and Christians for millennia, blacks and whites for centuries in the Americas, and all the politics which were attached to the Confederate Battle Flag in the aftermath of the tragic shooting in mid-June at the AME Church in South Carolina mid-June. Christians are often the biggest supporters of Israel, racism is not allowed in the US as an official policy, and long-time Southerners have had to express that the Confederate flag stands for honor and not racism, at the same time as it is being pulled off of flagpoles at public buildings. Society evolves. Thanks to Sennacherib, even the Moabite could join the Jewish people today.
And yet I know people who had a fallout and will never ever move past their fight. They will never forgive. They will never pick up the phone and make the call to move on in peace. There is a piece of human nature in this. But it is unhealthy for a society, and especially for a Jewish community, to see these kinds of attitudes in play.
Rosh Hashana is fast approaching. We need to find a way to put the hurt behind us, and foment peace in our own ranks. Only then will our Teshuvah (repentance) be complete.
Thursday, August 20, 2015
The Tree In Me
or The Connection Between Appointing Honest Judges and Not Planting Trees for Idolatry
Parshat Shoftim
by Rabbi Avi Billet
At the beginning of Parshat Behar, when the Torah describes the laws studied at Mt. Sinai, Rashi asks a question that is well-known by those who study Rashi’s commentary: What does the topic of Shmittah (resting the land on the seventh year) have to do with Sinai? This question is utilized in almost equivalent usage as “what does this have to do with the price of tea in China?”, meaning what do two unrelated topics mentioned near each other have to do with one another?
We can ask the same question at the beginning of our Parsha. We are first told that judges and officers need to be placed at the gates of cities, and that they should be upright and honest men who do not take bribes. Immediately after this, we are told, “Do not plan an asheirah or any tree near the altar of God.” (16:21) An asheirah is usually defined as a tree that is worshipped in some kind of idolatrous practice, but Rashbam says in this context it refers to any kind of tree, and Rashi adds that a building is also forbidden to be erected near the altar.
What does the asheirah tree have to do with appointing honest judges?
In Sanhedrin 7b, Resh Lakish describes anyone who appoints an unfit judge as being just as guilty as if he planted an asheirah tree. The Midrash Aggadah repeats this teaching without attribution. Some of the commentaries on this verse echo Resh Lakish, noting, for example, that the numerical value (gematria) of “asheirah” (506) is the same as “dayan she’eno hagun” (an unfit judge), which indicates that appointing an unfit judge is like planting an asheirah tree, because the judges sat near the mizbeach (Baal Haturim). Targum Yonatan removes the hints and says rather straightforwardly, “Just as you are not permitted to plant an asheirah next to the Mizbeach of God, so too you are not allowed to match a foolish man to dictate the law along with wise judges.”
The Alshikh makes the parallel a little more poetic, as he gives us an image which we can understand. Just as a planted tree grows and becomes more beautiful and impressive over time, even though the asheirah is either for idolatry or is simply planted in the wrong place, a bad and unfit judge starts off with small iniquities, and becomes increasingly corrupt as well as entrenched in his position over time. Similarly, Maimonides (laws of Sanhedrin 3:8) describes how easy it is to justify hiring a bad judge based on his social skills, his strength, nepotism, his knowledge of languages, etc. and not based on the proper criteria, such as his knowing the law. We similarly might admire a tree, not knowing whether it is a tree used for idolatry.
It is notable that the warning in the Torah for how a judge should not behave, as well as the warning in the Torah against planting an asheirah, sound the same. The word in question is spelled differently, but to the ear, it can be confused due to the similarity of sound: “Lo tateh” means do not bend judgment, “Lo titah” means do not plant.
The Kli Yakar notes (quoting a Midrash) that all of the warnings at the beginning of our parsha, were engraved in the steps leading up to King Solomon’s throne. Don’t bend, don’t show favor, don’t take bribes, don’t plant, don’t erect (a monument), and don’t offer (a blemished animal). The connection to Solomon was that all of these rules applied to whomever was serving as a judge.
Kli Yakar explains the many parallels between judges and the rules that follow it, about planting trees and erecting monuments. For example, a judge should not stand alone like a monument, but should be one of many “stones” in a Sanhedrin, just as there are many stones that make up a mizbeach. This makes it easier to be just, and to avoid bribes.
In 20:19 we are reminded that a person is, in some ways, compared to a tree. In one of the last mishnayot in Avot 3, Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya teaches how a person whose deeds are greater than his wisdom is compared to a tree with very strong roots who can’t be toppled over by even the strongest of winds.
We have a challenge to take the tree metaphor and apply it to our lives in the best of ways. To make sure our roots are strong, that our foundation isn’t flawed, and that we are planting ourselves in the right places to allow for the best spiritual growth we can achieve.
The further we spread our branches and leaves, the harder it becomes to nourish the outer limits of our reach. But if we maintain the connection to our roots and to our source, we can continue to grow, stronger and taller, as the canopy we create becomes a source of nourishment, shade, comfort, and inspiration to ourselves, our families, and those we care about most.
Parshat Shoftim
by Rabbi Avi Billet
At the beginning of Parshat Behar, when the Torah describes the laws studied at Mt. Sinai, Rashi asks a question that is well-known by those who study Rashi’s commentary: What does the topic of Shmittah (resting the land on the seventh year) have to do with Sinai? This question is utilized in almost equivalent usage as “what does this have to do with the price of tea in China?”, meaning what do two unrelated topics mentioned near each other have to do with one another?
We can ask the same question at the beginning of our Parsha. We are first told that judges and officers need to be placed at the gates of cities, and that they should be upright and honest men who do not take bribes. Immediately after this, we are told, “Do not plan an asheirah or any tree near the altar of God.” (16:21) An asheirah is usually defined as a tree that is worshipped in some kind of idolatrous practice, but Rashbam says in this context it refers to any kind of tree, and Rashi adds that a building is also forbidden to be erected near the altar.
What does the asheirah tree have to do with appointing honest judges?
In Sanhedrin 7b, Resh Lakish describes anyone who appoints an unfit judge as being just as guilty as if he planted an asheirah tree. The Midrash Aggadah repeats this teaching without attribution. Some of the commentaries on this verse echo Resh Lakish, noting, for example, that the numerical value (gematria) of “asheirah” (506) is the same as “dayan she’eno hagun” (an unfit judge), which indicates that appointing an unfit judge is like planting an asheirah tree, because the judges sat near the mizbeach (Baal Haturim). Targum Yonatan removes the hints and says rather straightforwardly, “Just as you are not permitted to plant an asheirah next to the Mizbeach of God, so too you are not allowed to match a foolish man to dictate the law along with wise judges.”
The Alshikh makes the parallel a little more poetic, as he gives us an image which we can understand. Just as a planted tree grows and becomes more beautiful and impressive over time, even though the asheirah is either for idolatry or is simply planted in the wrong place, a bad and unfit judge starts off with small iniquities, and becomes increasingly corrupt as well as entrenched in his position over time. Similarly, Maimonides (laws of Sanhedrin 3:8) describes how easy it is to justify hiring a bad judge based on his social skills, his strength, nepotism, his knowledge of languages, etc. and not based on the proper criteria, such as his knowing the law. We similarly might admire a tree, not knowing whether it is a tree used for idolatry.
It is notable that the warning in the Torah for how a judge should not behave, as well as the warning in the Torah against planting an asheirah, sound the same. The word in question is spelled differently, but to the ear, it can be confused due to the similarity of sound: “Lo tateh” means do not bend judgment, “Lo titah” means do not plant.
The Kli Yakar notes (quoting a Midrash) that all of the warnings at the beginning of our parsha, were engraved in the steps leading up to King Solomon’s throne. Don’t bend, don’t show favor, don’t take bribes, don’t plant, don’t erect (a monument), and don’t offer (a blemished animal). The connection to Solomon was that all of these rules applied to whomever was serving as a judge.
Kli Yakar explains the many parallels between judges and the rules that follow it, about planting trees and erecting monuments. For example, a judge should not stand alone like a monument, but should be one of many “stones” in a Sanhedrin, just as there are many stones that make up a mizbeach. This makes it easier to be just, and to avoid bribes.
In 20:19 we are reminded that a person is, in some ways, compared to a tree. In one of the last mishnayot in Avot 3, Rabbi Elazar ben Azarya teaches how a person whose deeds are greater than his wisdom is compared to a tree with very strong roots who can’t be toppled over by even the strongest of winds.
We have a challenge to take the tree metaphor and apply it to our lives in the best of ways. To make sure our roots are strong, that our foundation isn’t flawed, and that we are planting ourselves in the right places to allow for the best spiritual growth we can achieve.
The further we spread our branches and leaves, the harder it becomes to nourish the outer limits of our reach. But if we maintain the connection to our roots and to our source, we can continue to grow, stronger and taller, as the canopy we create becomes a source of nourishment, shade, comfort, and inspiration to ourselves, our families, and those we care about most.
Friday, August 14, 2015
To Sell, or to Give? Increasing Holiness When Unloading 'Neveilah'
Parshat Re'eh
by Rabbi Avi Billet
It is understandable that meat that is forbidden will be given away or sold. But why does the Torah say to give it to the ger toshav, but sell it to the stranger? Why can’t the owner earn a profit no matter where his ‘neveilah’ goes? Why can’t he give it to the stranger? These questions are addressed in the Talmud Chullin (114b), where Rabbi Meir suggests that indeed a person can go either route with either kind of person, giving or selling to whomever one pleases.
And yet the Torah’s language remains specific, and it warrants an explanation. In that Talmudic passage, Rabbi Meir further suggests that the Torah is teaching us a priority. We should be giving the ‘ger’ before we sell to the ‘stranger.’ While Rabbi Yehuda argues saying such an order of priority is obvious, one wonders how obvious it really is. Wouldn’t turning a profit, and the concept of parnasah (earning a living), be more obvious than giving things away - especially when we're not talking about an item that can be given as tzedakah, as a fellow Jew has no need or purpose for this meat?
We do have a mitzvah to ‘love the ger.’ (Devarim 10:19) But there is confusion as to which type of ‘ger’ that sentiment refers to. Is it the colloquial ‘ger’ – one who has become a full Jew? Or does it refer to the ‘ger toshav?’
This is why a different understanding is imperative in helping us understand why the Torah distinguishes between giving and selling, and between the ‘ger toshav’ and the ‘stranger.’ The Alshikh focuses on the Kedusha (holiness) aspect that is drawn out in the verse. What is “kedusha?” Kedusha does not come from any superiority inherent in any individual. All people are the same – they are all descendants of Adam and Noach. What raises a person’s kedusha level is that “I serve God, while the nations of the world serve other gods.”
The same holds true, Alshikh continues, for the neveilah itself. A living cow has the potential to produce Kosher meat, if it is slaughtered properly. But if something happens to it, such as if it dies naturally, its meat is neveilah and forbidden to the kosher consumer.
The same is true for the “stranger.” He too is a descendant of Noach, and therefore a potential contributor to the godliness of the global family of humanity. But something “happened” to him, in that he clings to idolatry, which allows him to partake of neveilah.
But the ‘ger toshav’ is different than the ‘stranger’ because he has rejected idolatry, and should therefore not be eating neveilah. However, since he nonetheless eats neveilah, we are commanded to give it to him for free, because it’s not the idolatry distinction that distinguishes the ‘stranger’ from the ‘ger toshav,’ but the question of kedushah. And His holiness factor, in turn, is what informs whether he can be gifted food prohibited to Jews, or whether he needs to pay for it.
In a sense, we have redefined kedusha, and what it means to be holy. For the Jewish people, our kedusha is enhanced by our closeness to God, and through doing deeds that enhance our connection to God. For people who are not Jewish, it is not mitzvot which contribute to their holiness, but their rejection of that which takes away from God’s holiness with respect to humanity.
It becomes our duty to embrace those that reject any notion of idolatry, or any notion of worship that is distinct from the worship of God. As should we support , in any way we can, anyone who promulgates a Godly existence, in a manner similar to how we embrace our God. And if supporting such efforts with free meat that is forbidden to us is an acceptable form of appreciation to them, the Torah makes it our priority to share such commerce, before we sell it to someone else for a profit.
This is how holiness is spread in the world.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
“Don’t eat ‘neveilah’ (meat from the carcass of an animal that dies a natural death) – give it to the ‘ger’ who lives in your gates, and he shall eat it. Or sell it to the ‘stranger.’ For you are a holy nation to the Lord your God. Don’t cook kid in its mother’s milk.” (Devarim 14:21)The word ‘ger’ in this sentence clearly does not refer to the person who converts to Judaism, because the convert is a Jew who is obligated in all the mitzvot of the Torah. This is why the Midrash Aggadah (quoted by Rashi) identifies the ‘ger’ as a ‘ger toshav,’ one who rejects idolatry, embraces Jewish sovereignty, lives with the Jewish people, but does not join the Jewish people through what we would call conversion. The stranger, notes the Ibn Ezra, does not live with the Jewish people.
It is understandable that meat that is forbidden will be given away or sold. But why does the Torah say to give it to the ger toshav, but sell it to the stranger? Why can’t the owner earn a profit no matter where his ‘neveilah’ goes? Why can’t he give it to the stranger? These questions are addressed in the Talmud Chullin (114b), where Rabbi Meir suggests that indeed a person can go either route with either kind of person, giving or selling to whomever one pleases.
And yet the Torah’s language remains specific, and it warrants an explanation. In that Talmudic passage, Rabbi Meir further suggests that the Torah is teaching us a priority. We should be giving the ‘ger’ before we sell to the ‘stranger.’ While Rabbi Yehuda argues saying such an order of priority is obvious, one wonders how obvious it really is. Wouldn’t turning a profit, and the concept of parnasah (earning a living), be more obvious than giving things away - especially when we're not talking about an item that can be given as tzedakah, as a fellow Jew has no need or purpose for this meat?
We do have a mitzvah to ‘love the ger.’ (Devarim 10:19) But there is confusion as to which type of ‘ger’ that sentiment refers to. Is it the colloquial ‘ger’ – one who has become a full Jew? Or does it refer to the ‘ger toshav?’
This is why a different understanding is imperative in helping us understand why the Torah distinguishes between giving and selling, and between the ‘ger toshav’ and the ‘stranger.’ The Alshikh focuses on the Kedusha (holiness) aspect that is drawn out in the verse. What is “kedusha?” Kedusha does not come from any superiority inherent in any individual. All people are the same – they are all descendants of Adam and Noach. What raises a person’s kedusha level is that “I serve God, while the nations of the world serve other gods.”
The same holds true, Alshikh continues, for the neveilah itself. A living cow has the potential to produce Kosher meat, if it is slaughtered properly. But if something happens to it, such as if it dies naturally, its meat is neveilah and forbidden to the kosher consumer.
The same is true for the “stranger.” He too is a descendant of Noach, and therefore a potential contributor to the godliness of the global family of humanity. But something “happened” to him, in that he clings to idolatry, which allows him to partake of neveilah.
But the ‘ger toshav’ is different than the ‘stranger’ because he has rejected idolatry, and should therefore not be eating neveilah. However, since he nonetheless eats neveilah, we are commanded to give it to him for free, because it’s not the idolatry distinction that distinguishes the ‘stranger’ from the ‘ger toshav,’ but the question of kedushah. And His holiness factor, in turn, is what informs whether he can be gifted food prohibited to Jews, or whether he needs to pay for it.
In a sense, we have redefined kedusha, and what it means to be holy. For the Jewish people, our kedusha is enhanced by our closeness to God, and through doing deeds that enhance our connection to God. For people who are not Jewish, it is not mitzvot which contribute to their holiness, but their rejection of that which takes away from God’s holiness with respect to humanity.
It becomes our duty to embrace those that reject any notion of idolatry, or any notion of worship that is distinct from the worship of God. As should we support , in any way we can, anyone who promulgates a Godly existence, in a manner similar to how we embrace our God. And if supporting such efforts with free meat that is forbidden to us is an acceptable form of appreciation to them, the Torah makes it our priority to share such commerce, before we sell it to someone else for a profit.
This is how holiness is spread in the world.
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
Unanimous Disapproval of Bad Behavior
Parshat Eikev
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Last week, from Tisha B’Av through Tu B’Av (7/26 – 7/31), was loaded with a particularly bizarre set of circumstances in Israel. From the vandalism on a Conservative (Masorti) synagogue in Modiin on Tisha B’Av, to the inexcusable stabbings at the gay pride parade – which led to a death of Shira Banki as reported on Sunday of this week, to the arson attack on the Dawabsheh family home in Duma last Friday in which an 18-month old toddler died, one wonders what happened to the idea of being a light unto the nations.
Of course, the media is all over these stories, as they should be, for each one, in its own way, is a heinous crime. As of this writing, the perpetrators of the vandalism and the arson had not been caught, and the speculation of both sets of attackers being Jews is circumstantial. But as most are assuming that the perpetrators in both cases are Jewish, let’s go with that assumption for now. The parade-stabber/murderer is clearly Jewish.
In Devarim 8:14, Moshe warns the people of what will happen when “your heart may then grow haughty, and you may forget God your Lord, the One who brought you out of the slave house that was Egypt.”
Ibn Ezra describes this haughtiness as the kind that comes from forgetting your past slave-life, and the suffering and the hunger and thirst you underwent. Presumably because now you have it all, life is good and easy, and you are coasting through a good life.
For more than a generation, the question of whether the Zionist-spirit is dead has been discussed in various mediums. The pioneering spirit to build the country has been replaced by an “it’s been built, now what?” different kind of sense-of-purpose question.
It has been argued that Arabs who engage in terror do so because they don’t have a self-fulfilling sense of purpose. They live in a culture of hate, in which too many people do not work, and therefore have the time to focus on destroying others’ lives instead of focusing on how to improve their own lives. How many people with families and a sense of purpose (a real job) engage in acts of terror? I would imagine the percentages are much lower than the unmarried non-working terrorists.
There is no question that Israel has been on the forefront of the world’s stage in technological innovation in medicine, arms-development, wifi and cellular technology, and hi-tech (computer systems, databases and apps). And so much more. Israel’s field hospitals in disaster and war zones is second to none, and is a model for the world of efficiency, care, and what it means to truly give in terms of resources, time, and manpower. So much good emanates from the tiny Jewish State, which aims to fulfill its purpose of being an accepted, contributing nation among nations.
But then we have a week like last week, and the pundits come out with an all-out criticism of the Jewish state.
As if the criminals represent the Jewish people. Which they don’t. And this point has been made clear with 100 percent condemnation from public leaders and private citizens alike.
Some look at the arson story, for example, responding, “Yeah? You think this is bad? How many Jews have been victims of terror? How many Jewish children have been killed by Arabs?” They don’t mean to justify, but to offer perspective. This is not helpful, however because all it does is try to create a moral superiority of “they have thousands of terrorists, we only have two.” Which is irrelevant.
The only “comparison” to be made is the 100% condemnation of these despicable acts, which is a sign that while the Jewish people apparently have criminals among us, our People are repulsed by individuals who act in a manner that may reflect an arrogance such as the kind the Torah frowns upon. On the other side, the polls that show the percentages of pro-Palestinian folks who say “terrorism is sometimes justified” are almost always in double-digits.
The parade-murderer helps us understand what the Talmud means when it talks about how there was a time in Jewish history when there were many murderers in Israel. There may have been self-appointed vigilantes who felt that they had the right to defend Torah law against those they considered sinners, and they chose to do so in a manner that included murder. The arsonists have a skewed perspective of right and wrong. And they are wrong. And the vandals also have no concept of what it means to respect property, even if they disagree with how Judaism is to be practiced.
Rabbi Morris Joseph wrote in the late 1890s “We thereby affirm, not that we are better than others, but that we ought to be better.” The first step in being “better” (a self-monitored aspiration) is coming to a communal and national sense of purpose, hopefully which comes from the opposite angle of what causes the problem outlined in Devarim 8. Our hearts must never grow haughty, and we must never forget the God who took us out of Egypt.
Because it is only through humility and through a God-oriented sense of purpose that respects all of God’s children that we can attain the status of being a light unto the nations. Most of us are there. We pray that all Jewish people can join the ranks of those who remember what it meant to be slaves, so we can live in peace with those who are looking to live a decent life.
Friday, July 31, 2015
Don't Add, Don't Subtract: Do What You Are Told
The disturbing and inexcusable stories of violence perpetrated by Jews in Israel this week are perfect examples of Chillul Hashem. The perpetrators (stabbing people at a gay-pride parade and arsonists) do not represent Jews who live in a civil society. Both kinds of criminals are guilty of "adding" to what they think is their "Torah." This shameful and despicable behavior is a disgrace to the Jewish people, and must be condemned at every turn.
Parshat Va'Etchanan
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Towards the beginning of the Torah portion, we are given Moshe’s reminder that we are not to add anything to the Torah, nor to detract from it. (4:2) This is the mitzvah of Bal Tosif, not to add, and Bal Tigra, not to take away.
Rashi quotes the Sifrei, saying do not add a 5th paragraph to the tefillin, and do not add a 5th specie to the Lulav bundle, while various Baalei Tosafot (as well as Rashi) mention not to add a fifth corner to tzitzit. Ramban and Rabbenu Bachaye bring another example of saying a fourth sentence when pronouncing the three-sentence Priestly blessing – Birkat Kohanim.
Some commentaries subscribe to the phrase “Kol hamosif go’rea,” that anyone who adds actually detracts from something that is perfect as it is. Think of what adding an ingredient to a chef's masterpiece entree or a baker's prize cake.
Other approaches of how to define Bal Tosif include warnings about the downsides of adding to the Torah – such as Ibn Ezra, who reminds us not to think that adding to the Torah is considered serving God.
But what is considered adding, and what is not?
Explaining Rashi, Rabbi Ovadiah MiBartenura says that fulfilling a mitzvah twice is not Bal Tosif. Though he does not give examples of what that might include, presumably wearing tefillin for double the normal amount of time, saying Shema twice, giving tzedakah a second time, visiting someone who is ill a second time, all of these are not considered a violation.
It is also not a violation of Bal Tosif if a Jew who is not obligated to fulfill a mitzvah nevertheless does so. He brings the example of Michal daughter of King Saul wearing tefillin, the wife of the prophet Yonah going to the Temple for the holidays (the mitzvah of being ‘oleh l’regel’), and that women are allowed, but not required, to put their hands on a korban (offering) when they would bring one.
Ramban questions whether eating in the sukkah 8 days violates Bal Tosif, while the Rosh indicates that since eating an “extra” day in the sukkah does not detract from the mitzvah (it does not fit in the category of ‘kol hamosif go’rea’) it is permissible.
The only adding which is considered allowed because it is not really adding, is what many commentaries refer to as “making a geder” (fence), making rules that help a person fulfill a mitzvah or not violate a mitzvah. The concept of “muktze” for example (not to touch things that are forbidden to be used on the Sabbath) is a fence. For example, If I am not allowed to make a fire, I don’t even touch a match. If I can’t drive a car, I don’t pick up my car keys. Ramban notes that with gedarim (fences), it is important to remember that it is not God’s word, but an effort to help us fulfill God’s word that we are indeed adding to our personal practice, but not to the Torah.
Seforno warns about removing from the Torah. Sometimes a person might rationalize that if the reason for the mitzvah is irrelevant that the mitzvah is irrelevant. King Solomon famously did this when he expanded his number of wives, his number of horses and his wealth far beyond what the Torah allows, saying that it would not steer his heart away from God. Of course, he was wrong. And his removing these mitzvot from his own tally demonstrated perfectly how things can go sour when a person, even as wise as Solomon, thinks he knows better than God.
Other commentaries take lessons from Moshe’s own life, and the experience of the Israelites in the wilderness, to show how he learned the important lesson of not adding and not subtracting from God’s word.
Focusing on Israel’s choices, Chizkuni has Moshe telling the people, “When I said go conquer the land, you added ‘Let’s send spies.’ That caused everyone to die in the wilderness. And when I said ‘Don’t go up,’ you disregarded the instruction and Amalek and Canaan came out to fight.”
Focusing on Moshe’s personal experiences, the Or HaChaim says that Moshe had added to God’s instruction when he hit the rock (Bamidbar 20), and he took away from God’s instruction when he did not act decisively in the face of Zimri’s rebellion, before Pinchas zealously took the law into his own hands (Bamidbar 25). Both of these incidents detracted from Moshe’s leadership role significantly.
Along similar lines, Kli Yakar notes that Moshe’s “adding” at the rock incident, hitting the rock when he was merely told to speak to it, caused a “lessening” of the faith of the people in God.
Sometimes the question of adding or subtracting refers to a specific mitzvah, and sometimes there's a lesson learned from adherence to divine instruction.
Where does this leave us? At a place where we are challenged to know and understand God’s rules as best as we can, and to do what we can to adhere to those rules. Not adding or subtracting can either be understood conceptually or based on experience, and is meant to inform our day-to-day practice. This Friday is the 15th of Av, a time when the Talmud at the end of Taanit says is one of the happiest days on the Jewish calendar. One of the reasons the Talmud gives for this is because in the times of the Temple, the people were freed up from collecting wood for the altar, and therefore had more time to study Torah.
May we utilize as much of our free time as possible to study more Torah, so we can be as knowledgeable as we can in what to do, what not to do, and how we can best fulfill our responsibilities as Jews without adding to or detracting from the Torah.
Parshat Va'Etchanan
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Towards the beginning of the Torah portion, we are given Moshe’s reminder that we are not to add anything to the Torah, nor to detract from it. (4:2) This is the mitzvah of Bal Tosif, not to add, and Bal Tigra, not to take away.
Rashi quotes the Sifrei, saying do not add a 5th paragraph to the tefillin, and do not add a 5th specie to the Lulav bundle, while various Baalei Tosafot (as well as Rashi) mention not to add a fifth corner to tzitzit. Ramban and Rabbenu Bachaye bring another example of saying a fourth sentence when pronouncing the three-sentence Priestly blessing – Birkat Kohanim.
Some commentaries subscribe to the phrase “Kol hamosif go’rea,” that anyone who adds actually detracts from something that is perfect as it is. Think of what adding an ingredient to a chef's masterpiece entree or a baker's prize cake.
Other approaches of how to define Bal Tosif include warnings about the downsides of adding to the Torah – such as Ibn Ezra, who reminds us not to think that adding to the Torah is considered serving God.
But what is considered adding, and what is not?
Explaining Rashi, Rabbi Ovadiah MiBartenura says that fulfilling a mitzvah twice is not Bal Tosif. Though he does not give examples of what that might include, presumably wearing tefillin for double the normal amount of time, saying Shema twice, giving tzedakah a second time, visiting someone who is ill a second time, all of these are not considered a violation.
It is also not a violation of Bal Tosif if a Jew who is not obligated to fulfill a mitzvah nevertheless does so. He brings the example of Michal daughter of King Saul wearing tefillin, the wife of the prophet Yonah going to the Temple for the holidays (the mitzvah of being ‘oleh l’regel’), and that women are allowed, but not required, to put their hands on a korban (offering) when they would bring one.
Ramban questions whether eating in the sukkah 8 days violates Bal Tosif, while the Rosh indicates that since eating an “extra” day in the sukkah does not detract from the mitzvah (it does not fit in the category of ‘kol hamosif go’rea’) it is permissible.
The only adding which is considered allowed because it is not really adding, is what many commentaries refer to as “making a geder” (fence), making rules that help a person fulfill a mitzvah or not violate a mitzvah. The concept of “muktze” for example (not to touch things that are forbidden to be used on the Sabbath) is a fence. For example, If I am not allowed to make a fire, I don’t even touch a match. If I can’t drive a car, I don’t pick up my car keys. Ramban notes that with gedarim (fences), it is important to remember that it is not God’s word, but an effort to help us fulfill God’s word that we are indeed adding to our personal practice, but not to the Torah.
Seforno warns about removing from the Torah. Sometimes a person might rationalize that if the reason for the mitzvah is irrelevant that the mitzvah is irrelevant. King Solomon famously did this when he expanded his number of wives, his number of horses and his wealth far beyond what the Torah allows, saying that it would not steer his heart away from God. Of course, he was wrong. And his removing these mitzvot from his own tally demonstrated perfectly how things can go sour when a person, even as wise as Solomon, thinks he knows better than God.
Other commentaries take lessons from Moshe’s own life, and the experience of the Israelites in the wilderness, to show how he learned the important lesson of not adding and not subtracting from God’s word.
Focusing on Israel’s choices, Chizkuni has Moshe telling the people, “When I said go conquer the land, you added ‘Let’s send spies.’ That caused everyone to die in the wilderness. And when I said ‘Don’t go up,’ you disregarded the instruction and Amalek and Canaan came out to fight.”
Focusing on Moshe’s personal experiences, the Or HaChaim says that Moshe had added to God’s instruction when he hit the rock (Bamidbar 20), and he took away from God’s instruction when he did not act decisively in the face of Zimri’s rebellion, before Pinchas zealously took the law into his own hands (Bamidbar 25). Both of these incidents detracted from Moshe’s leadership role significantly.
Along similar lines, Kli Yakar notes that Moshe’s “adding” at the rock incident, hitting the rock when he was merely told to speak to it, caused a “lessening” of the faith of the people in God.
Sometimes the question of adding or subtracting refers to a specific mitzvah, and sometimes there's a lesson learned from adherence to divine instruction.
Where does this leave us? At a place where we are challenged to know and understand God’s rules as best as we can, and to do what we can to adhere to those rules. Not adding or subtracting can either be understood conceptually or based on experience, and is meant to inform our day-to-day practice. This Friday is the 15th of Av, a time when the Talmud at the end of Taanit says is one of the happiest days on the Jewish calendar. One of the reasons the Talmud gives for this is because in the times of the Temple, the people were freed up from collecting wood for the altar, and therefore had more time to study Torah.
May we utilize as much of our free time as possible to study more Torah, so we can be as knowledgeable as we can in what to do, what not to do, and how we can best fulfill our responsibilities as Jews without adding to or detracting from the Torah.
Friday, July 24, 2015
Looking To the Past And the Future
Parshat Devarim
by Rabbi Avi Billet
When the Levush records the “halakha” from Shulchan Arukh 428 about when certain Torah portions are read during the year, he explains the rule that Tisha B’Av precedes Va’Etchanan as follows: “So that Devarim, which begins the rebukes of Moshe, will be read before Tisha B’Av.”
It certainly would have been easier for us to understand if the Shulchan Arukh had done two things differently: 1. Like for Bamidbar and Nitzavim, which precede Shavuot and Rosh Hashana respectively, he had explained that Devarim precedes Tisha B’Av. For some reason, he switched it around saying “Tisha B’Av preceded Va’Etchanan. 2. A small explanation for each, such as a thematic connection, would have gone a long way.
For Bamidbar and Nitzavim, the purpose of their standing as a buffer between the Rebuke of the previous parsha, Bechukotai and Ki Tavo respectively, and the coming holiday, is made clear. So if Devarim contains a rebuke, shouldn’t it also have a buffer between it and Tisha B’Av? We even read from Parshat Va’Etchanan ON Tisha B’Av! Wouldn’t it make sense to have Va’Etchanan be a reading of the past once Tisha B’Av is over, if the rebuke of Va’Etchanan is powerful enough to be the Tisha B’Av Torah reading?
We can argue that no buffer will help Tisha B’Av. It is a miserable day. It may as well be attached to rebuke. And, of course, we know that it is. But why not just say that Devarim precedes Tisha B’Av, since it does, even more consistently than Bamidbar precedes Shavuot?
Parshat Devarim contains within it Moshe’s reference to the sin of the spies. The Talmud (Taanit 29a) tells us that the date when the spies returned with their report was the Ninth of Av. The negativity of that episode, and the devastation it wrought upon the nation was so horrific, bringing it up in any context seems to be an example of pouring salt in very sore wounds.
We can not say that Devarim precedes Tisha B’Av, because we know all too well that what Moshe recounted in Devarim not only preceded the original Tisha B’Av, but caused the original Tisha B’Av! The rebuke within Va’Etchanan, the portion we read on Tisha B’Av, speaks more to the future than to the past. It is a reminder of how to raise children and grandchildren, and what precautions to take to get things right.
Moreover, unlike in Devarim, where the rebuke focuses on the past, Parshat Va’Etchanan begins with Moshe looking to future in his own personal life as well. And this may be the lesson of how all of this is recorded in the Shulchan Arukh.
When it comes to Tisha B’av, like Devarim, we tend to lament over the past, and find all the flaws and hardships our People have endured. We may even point fingers and say why it happened, and who was at fault, and what the repercussions were and remain for our nation, even after so many years.
But that does not help us emerge from Tisha B’Av. Unlike Shavuot and Rosh Hashana when we hope to achieve the highest heights of spirituality and connection with our Creator, on Tisha B’Av, we want to be able to get out of our despair and look to a better future. Va’Etchanan begins with Moshe pleading to God to let him into the Land. Even though he’s been told he won’t be allowed in. He still hopes that he can get in there, or even to just be buried there.
And this is how we have to view this time period. For those who get into Tisha B’Av, who don’t go to work, who read the Kinot, who listen to stirring words delivered by fascinating lecturers, Tisha B’Av is more than just a depressing fast day. It is a porthole to many places in time in which the Jewish people suffered, and it is a reminder that as good as things are in comparison to the past, there is still no Temple in Jerusalem, there is still terrorism aimed at Jews around the world, and especially in Israel, and nowadays we can tack on the threat of Iran and its nuclear ambitions coupled with a naivette that these dishonest fanatics can be negotiated with and trusted, and it remains depressing.
But we have something to look forward to. Because like Moshe, we can remain optimistic. We can understand the significance of Tisha B’Av preceding Va’Etchanan. Because sometimes we need to go to the deepest depths of despair to understand what our collective challenges are, and we need to tack on to that incredible sense of optimism of Moshe, that even with everything that is going on, we believe there is a bright future ahead.
Our job is to stand strong. To get through Tisha B’Av and be excited for the future. We must remain cautious, as Moshe was about his prospects for getting in to the Land, while we continue to pray and do our part hoping that God will do what is best and right for our People.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
When the Levush records the “halakha” from Shulchan Arukh 428 about when certain Torah portions are read during the year, he explains the rule that Tisha B’Av precedes Va’Etchanan as follows: “So that Devarim, which begins the rebukes of Moshe, will be read before Tisha B’Av.”
It certainly would have been easier for us to understand if the Shulchan Arukh had done two things differently: 1. Like for Bamidbar and Nitzavim, which precede Shavuot and Rosh Hashana respectively, he had explained that Devarim precedes Tisha B’Av. For some reason, he switched it around saying “Tisha B’Av preceded Va’Etchanan. 2. A small explanation for each, such as a thematic connection, would have gone a long way.
For Bamidbar and Nitzavim, the purpose of their standing as a buffer between the Rebuke of the previous parsha, Bechukotai and Ki Tavo respectively, and the coming holiday, is made clear. So if Devarim contains a rebuke, shouldn’t it also have a buffer between it and Tisha B’Av? We even read from Parshat Va’Etchanan ON Tisha B’Av! Wouldn’t it make sense to have Va’Etchanan be a reading of the past once Tisha B’Av is over, if the rebuke of Va’Etchanan is powerful enough to be the Tisha B’Av Torah reading?
We can argue that no buffer will help Tisha B’Av. It is a miserable day. It may as well be attached to rebuke. And, of course, we know that it is. But why not just say that Devarim precedes Tisha B’Av, since it does, even more consistently than Bamidbar precedes Shavuot?
Parshat Devarim contains within it Moshe’s reference to the sin of the spies. The Talmud (Taanit 29a) tells us that the date when the spies returned with their report was the Ninth of Av. The negativity of that episode, and the devastation it wrought upon the nation was so horrific, bringing it up in any context seems to be an example of pouring salt in very sore wounds.
We can not say that Devarim precedes Tisha B’Av, because we know all too well that what Moshe recounted in Devarim not only preceded the original Tisha B’Av, but caused the original Tisha B’Av! The rebuke within Va’Etchanan, the portion we read on Tisha B’Av, speaks more to the future than to the past. It is a reminder of how to raise children and grandchildren, and what precautions to take to get things right.
Moreover, unlike in Devarim, where the rebuke focuses on the past, Parshat Va’Etchanan begins with Moshe looking to future in his own personal life as well. And this may be the lesson of how all of this is recorded in the Shulchan Arukh.
When it comes to Tisha B’av, like Devarim, we tend to lament over the past, and find all the flaws and hardships our People have endured. We may even point fingers and say why it happened, and who was at fault, and what the repercussions were and remain for our nation, even after so many years.
But that does not help us emerge from Tisha B’Av. Unlike Shavuot and Rosh Hashana when we hope to achieve the highest heights of spirituality and connection with our Creator, on Tisha B’Av, we want to be able to get out of our despair and look to a better future. Va’Etchanan begins with Moshe pleading to God to let him into the Land. Even though he’s been told he won’t be allowed in. He still hopes that he can get in there, or even to just be buried there.
And this is how we have to view this time period. For those who get into Tisha B’Av, who don’t go to work, who read the Kinot, who listen to stirring words delivered by fascinating lecturers, Tisha B’Av is more than just a depressing fast day. It is a porthole to many places in time in which the Jewish people suffered, and it is a reminder that as good as things are in comparison to the past, there is still no Temple in Jerusalem, there is still terrorism aimed at Jews around the world, and especially in Israel, and nowadays we can tack on the threat of Iran and its nuclear ambitions coupled with a naivette that these dishonest fanatics can be negotiated with and trusted, and it remains depressing.
But we have something to look forward to. Because like Moshe, we can remain optimistic. We can understand the significance of Tisha B’Av preceding Va’Etchanan. Because sometimes we need to go to the deepest depths of despair to understand what our collective challenges are, and we need to tack on to that incredible sense of optimism of Moshe, that even with everything that is going on, we believe there is a bright future ahead.
Our job is to stand strong. To get through Tisha B’Av and be excited for the future. We must remain cautious, as Moshe was about his prospects for getting in to the Land, while we continue to pray and do our part hoping that God will do what is best and right for our People.
Friday, July 17, 2015
Respectful Objections - Choosing Our Words Carefully
Parshat MATOT-Masei
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Ever since the blessing given to the Tribe of Gad by Yaakov in the middle of Parshat Vaychi, Gad has been considered to be the greatest soldier, and set of soldiers, known to Israel.
So well known is this fact, that every image for Gad that I have ever seen in artwork depicting the tribes always has Gad represented as field-tents or soldiers. No other tribe shares such a distinction.
When the tribes of Reuven and Gad, who traveled together (along with the recently-devastated tribe of Shimon) in the wilderness come to Moshe in Chapter 32 asking to settle in the land conquered from Sichon and Og, their request does not seem that odd. If, after all, they had led the troops in battle against those enemies, they may have been the first to observe and take note of the topography, to determine this land would mean a great economic boom for their tribes.
They list the particular lands and cities they want, explaining that they want to put roots here for “[in] the land that God struck down before the Israelite community is livestock land - and what we have is livestock.'” (32:4)
This is not crazy. They see an opportunity, so they want to capitalize on it. They know it is very close to the Promised Land. And yet, they say, “If you would grant us a favor, let this land be given to us as our permanent property, and do not bring us across the Jordan.” (32:5)
There are different ways to understand their request. Are they saying they don’t want to go across the Jordan at all? Or are they saying they don’t want to shlep their families along? Do they make any mention of what role they intend to play or not play on the coming battlefield? Do they indicate any scorn for the Promised Land? As a matter of fact, these questions are not addressed at all.
Instead, Moshe goes on a 10-verse tirade about how they’re committing the same sin as the spies and the people of that generation who revolted against the Land. Arguably the only legitimate response Moshe has is a fair concern: “Moses said to the descendants of Gad and Reuven, 'Why should your brothers go out and fight while you stay here?’” (32:6)
We can skip to their response in 32:16-19 when they completely ignore all of Moshe’s comments, responding only to the one about serving at the battlefront. “[The Reubenites and Gaddites] approached [Moses] and said, 'We will build enclosures for our sheep here and cities for our children. But we will then arm ourselves and go as an advance guard before the [other] Israelites, [fighting] until we have brought them to their homeland. Because of the area's inhabitants, our children will remain in fortified cities, but we ourselves will not return home until every Israelite has taken possession of his hereditary property. We, however, will not take possession with them on the far side of the Jordan, since our inheritance shall come to us on the Jordan's eastern bank.'”
In other words: “You are right, Moshe. We do not intend to leave our brothers to fight their battles alone. We will be there as well. But we don’t want our families and animals to be waiting in limbo for however long these battles will take. As far as all your concerns of our hate for the Land, on par with those of the spies, we will not even dignify them with a response.”
Was Moshe right or wrong here? Did he discern something that was there, or something that wasn’t there? Were the Reuvenites and Gadites only selfish, or were they practical? Did they denigrate the Land? Were they looking to abandon the rest of the Israelite nation? Or were they always intending to join for the battles, and perhaps they merely neglected to mention such plans?
Perhaps we’ll never know the answers to these questions.
But I wonder how things would have turned out if Moshe had ended his response in 32:6 – asking about their plans to participate in battles – rather than waxing poetic about their hatred-of-the-land on par with that of the spies’?
I like to think the message would have come across, and their clarification, very much to the point, would have also been brief and concise.
This is a flaw we have when we judge people based on either preconceived notions, or if we apply our own experiences to a similar but different circumstance in which we are currently involved.
“I know the score. This happens all the time.” “Every time I’ve seen this, it always ends out the same.” “Anyone who has ever done this has been untrustworthy, or has given up before completing the job. You’ll be no different.”
How do we know? How can we judge people without hearing them out, or without giving them a chance? Just because others have been one way, or have failed, does not mean everyone will. And from another perspective, just because someone has been successful in the past does not mean the person will be the God-send being sought.
Open communication, clarification, and giving people a chance are some of the ingredients that make the thrill of life more navigable for all. Will things be perfect, always? No. And anyone who thinks it will be is at best naïve.
But our life is one lived with others, and we have to do our best to include others, share concerns for ourselves and for others, and do what we can to help others through their struggles, as we hope they will help us through ours’.
And if we can be blessed to not be so judgmental, and not to project our own insecurities on others, maybe we’ll never have to be the people who are the recipients of “I’m not even going to dignify that comment with a response” because we will have selected our words carefully in the first place.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Ever since the blessing given to the Tribe of Gad by Yaakov in the middle of Parshat Vaychi, Gad has been considered to be the greatest soldier, and set of soldiers, known to Israel.
So well known is this fact, that every image for Gad that I have ever seen in artwork depicting the tribes always has Gad represented as field-tents or soldiers. No other tribe shares such a distinction.
When the tribes of Reuven and Gad, who traveled together (along with the recently-devastated tribe of Shimon) in the wilderness come to Moshe in Chapter 32 asking to settle in the land conquered from Sichon and Og, their request does not seem that odd. If, after all, they had led the troops in battle against those enemies, they may have been the first to observe and take note of the topography, to determine this land would mean a great economic boom for their tribes.
They list the particular lands and cities they want, explaining that they want to put roots here for “[in] the land that God struck down before the Israelite community is livestock land - and what we have is livestock.'” (32:4)
This is not crazy. They see an opportunity, so they want to capitalize on it. They know it is very close to the Promised Land. And yet, they say, “If you would grant us a favor, let this land be given to us as our permanent property, and do not bring us across the Jordan.” (32:5)
There are different ways to understand their request. Are they saying they don’t want to go across the Jordan at all? Or are they saying they don’t want to shlep their families along? Do they make any mention of what role they intend to play or not play on the coming battlefield? Do they indicate any scorn for the Promised Land? As a matter of fact, these questions are not addressed at all.
Instead, Moshe goes on a 10-verse tirade about how they’re committing the same sin as the spies and the people of that generation who revolted against the Land. Arguably the only legitimate response Moshe has is a fair concern: “Moses said to the descendants of Gad and Reuven, 'Why should your brothers go out and fight while you stay here?’” (32:6)
We can skip to their response in 32:16-19 when they completely ignore all of Moshe’s comments, responding only to the one about serving at the battlefront. “[The Reubenites and Gaddites] approached [Moses] and said, 'We will build enclosures for our sheep here and cities for our children. But we will then arm ourselves and go as an advance guard before the [other] Israelites, [fighting] until we have brought them to their homeland. Because of the area's inhabitants, our children will remain in fortified cities, but we ourselves will not return home until every Israelite has taken possession of his hereditary property. We, however, will not take possession with them on the far side of the Jordan, since our inheritance shall come to us on the Jordan's eastern bank.'”
In other words: “You are right, Moshe. We do not intend to leave our brothers to fight their battles alone. We will be there as well. But we don’t want our families and animals to be waiting in limbo for however long these battles will take. As far as all your concerns of our hate for the Land, on par with those of the spies, we will not even dignify them with a response.”
Was Moshe right or wrong here? Did he discern something that was there, or something that wasn’t there? Were the Reuvenites and Gadites only selfish, or were they practical? Did they denigrate the Land? Were they looking to abandon the rest of the Israelite nation? Or were they always intending to join for the battles, and perhaps they merely neglected to mention such plans?
Perhaps we’ll never know the answers to these questions.
But I wonder how things would have turned out if Moshe had ended his response in 32:6 – asking about their plans to participate in battles – rather than waxing poetic about their hatred-of-the-land on par with that of the spies’?
I like to think the message would have come across, and their clarification, very much to the point, would have also been brief and concise.
This is a flaw we have when we judge people based on either preconceived notions, or if we apply our own experiences to a similar but different circumstance in which we are currently involved.
“I know the score. This happens all the time.” “Every time I’ve seen this, it always ends out the same.” “Anyone who has ever done this has been untrustworthy, or has given up before completing the job. You’ll be no different.”
How do we know? How can we judge people without hearing them out, or without giving them a chance? Just because others have been one way, or have failed, does not mean everyone will. And from another perspective, just because someone has been successful in the past does not mean the person will be the God-send being sought.
Open communication, clarification, and giving people a chance are some of the ingredients that make the thrill of life more navigable for all. Will things be perfect, always? No. And anyone who thinks it will be is at best naïve.
But our life is one lived with others, and we have to do our best to include others, share concerns for ourselves and for others, and do what we can to help others through their struggles, as we hope they will help us through ours’.
And if we can be blessed to not be so judgmental, and not to project our own insecurities on others, maybe we’ll never have to be the people who are the recipients of “I’m not even going to dignify that comment with a response” because we will have selected our words carefully in the first place.
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