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!
A blog of Torah thoughts and the occasional musing about Judaism, by Rabbi Avi Billet (Comments are moderated. Anonymity is discouraged.)
Thursday, September 24, 2015
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.
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Bnei Yisrael,
holy nation,
Israel,
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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.
Labels:
consequences,
deterrence,
individual,
Iran,
punishment,
Rosh Hashana,
teshuvah
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