Parshat Devarim
by Rabbi Avi Billet
As the history of the Israelites in the wilderness is reviewed in Devarim, an interesting trend is presented. The nations of Eisav, Moav and Ammon are treated as closer than brothers with Israel.
In each original story of Eisav and Lot (father of Moav and Ammon) there happens to be a word that has dots over it, with the common theme perhaps being that while the real story is not so nice, the Torah is trying to be polite about it.
In Lot’s case, as the child Moav was conceived, we have the word “U’vkumah” – expressing Lot’s lack of awareness of his daughter’s incestuous choice with him, due to his being drunk. Some suggest he was actually quite aware, as hinted by the wink the dots send our way.
Eisav’s threat to kill Yaakov are thrown to the wind when he greets his brother with a kiss after over 30 years apart. The Midrash and comments on the dotted word “Vayishakayhu” – and he kissed him – indicate the kiss was far less innocent than it seemed, that he meant Yaakov harm.
In sum, each word is harmless, but the dots indicate that something sinister lies beneath the surface.
And yet Moshe tells the people in our parsha that these people, their descendants, were to be treated very nicely by the conquering army of Israel. Why?
We can argue that the children of Lot were harmless – what their father did bears no reflection on them. But there’s an insincerity in all three nations that strikes God the wrong way. “I hate Eisav” says God in Malachi 1:3. Moav is in disfavor in Midrash Aggadah Bamidbar 24, where it is noted that in the end of days, God will judge Moav for their role in the plague that killed 24,000 Israelites, as Balak took Bilaam’s advice to set up brothels, instructing the Midianite women not to service the men they entice unless the men agree to worship idols - making their entrapment victims guilty of two capital offenses! [Kli Yakar notes that Ammon is not really involved in these events, and yet is somehow inexplicably thrown in with Moav.]
The respect we are to give to them teaches that the Jewish people have the responsibility, as well as the innate ability, to forgive. Even those we hate. Because Eisav has a backstory of how he was hurt, and Moav has a backstory of how they became adversaries of Israel.
It’s very hard. Every time there is a terrorist attack in Israel, especially in a home, on Shabbat, my own feelings of rage lead me to think and express ideas which are not pretty. It usually takes someone living in Israel, who reminds me of context, of facts on the ground, of reality, to remind me that the situation is not as black and white as I see it. And that jumping to whatever conclusions my emotions lead me to has no practical side to it.
It’s hard, but the reality dose is important.
I don’t forgive individual terrorists or terrorist funders and supporters. But to suggest any narrative has a simple solution is simply naïve.
In many ways the Jewish people have moved on from past hatred. After two thousand years of hatred, many Christians are the biggest supporters of Israel and the Jewish people. Israel has diplomatic relations with Germany, and grandchildren of Nazis are even proud Jews, some of whom serve in the IDF. Last year Bibi Netanyahu released a video claiming he cares more about Palestinians than their leaders care about them, as Israel regularly sends food, medicine, supplies, aid, etc, while Palestinian leaders abscond funds and use supplies to fill terrorist coffers.
I don’t understand the concept of Sinat Chinam (baseless hatred), which is ascribed as the reason for the destruction of the Temple. Hatred is based on a lie, a false pretense, or a misunderstanding.
On the Talmudic text (Yoma 9) that discusses baseless hatred, Netziv explains (Meromei Sadeh) it as the kind of hatred that leads to murder.
If murder often has a motive, it isn’t baseless, even if unjustified. So perhaps the “baseless” could be reinterpreted to the modern term “random” – just because. In other words, it is a kind of “shigaon” – a mental illness. Those who randomly kill others, in a movie theater, in a shopping mall, at a Friday night dinner, are all motivated by some craziness that justifies their action in their own minds. So murder is certainly an extreme.
But the Netziv explains the "baseless" hatred as an errant thought-process: “When the person sees his friend committing a sin, he doesn’t judge it saying 'the person is motivated by lust or desire,' (which might excuse the behavior as a fall to weakness) but 'because he is anti-God and deserves to die.'” By and large, the Jewish people are not vigilantes, killing all the sinners. And while I personally have no sympathy for murderers or terrorists, all of whom, in my view, deserve to die the minute they take an innocent person’s life, I recognize that when the moment of stopping a murderer in his tracks passes, the right to stop that sinner in that way also passes. But this is an extreme case.
Beyond situations of murder (which are extremely uncommon to confront), when we see another’s behavior that we find distasteful or even wrong, how do we react? Our distaste isn’t baseless. But it is often unjustified, because we don’t know the whole story. There is much more to the totality of an individual than the snapshot in time that gives us our impression.
Pre-Tisha B’Av we often hear that the antidote to baseless hatred is Ahavat Chinam – baseless love. But it’s never baseless because it follows the examples of the great Ohavei Yisrael, the models of loving Jewish people.
The Lubavitcher Rebbe saw Jews at different levels of observance and not in terms of labels and camps. Shlomo Carlebach saw every Jew after Hitler and Communism as a miracle. How many of us can say we just love all our fellow Jews, period? And why should we? Because he and she is our fellow Jew.
Sometimes it’s extremely hard. But if we can treat Eisav, Moav, and Ammon nicely, and if the realists in Israel today can continue to say “we want to get along with our Arab neighbors,” and in many cases they do, then certainly we can find a way to try to see the context of others’ existence before rushing to judge.
Wednesday, July 26, 2017
Wednesday, July 19, 2017
When Vengeance is Sweet
Parshat MATOT-Masei
Vengeance – is it a Jewish quality or not?
The truth is, it depends. The Torah, for example, says that if a person kills someone accidentally, the blood of the victim shall be avenged. (Shmot 21:20)
Chapter 19 in Devarim (and in our parsha, Bamidbar 35) discusses the rules surrounding the accidental murder and the need for the perpetrator to run to a city of refuge before the avenging relative will deliver unprosecutable vigilante justice against his relative’s killer. A good portion of tractate Makkot is dedicated to these discussions.
Vayikra 19:18, most famous for its Golden Rule of loving your neighbor, actually begins with the phrase “Do not take revenge nor bear a grudge against the children of your people…”
In Parshat Matot, chapter 31 begins with God telling Moshe, “Take revenge for the Israelites against the Midianites…” This is the prelude to the annihilation war against Midian, the nation responsible for bringing upon Israel a plague that took the lives of 24,000 people.
In the Vayikra passage, the Midrash and many commentaries describe the frowned upon revenge as being of the type which is just spiteful and mean. You didn’t lend me something, so I won’t lend you a different item. You were stingy, so I’ll be stingy back.
On the other hand, the cases of revenge that seem to be sanctioned by the Torah, or at the very least not stopped outright, are when the side seeking vengeance, either a relative or the entire nation of Israel, suffered a loss or many losses at the hands of the target, the erstwhile perpetrator.
And so the propriety of revenge becomes a question of what happened, and what is the benefit of said revenge?
On a personal level, I have very little qualms about revenge or vengeance being taken out against murderers. Last week’s terrorist attack against Israeli police officers on the Temple Mount ended when the perpetrators were killed. Any terrorist who engages in such a cowardly attack, attacking or aiming to murder people who mean them no harm and who are not a threat to them, whether they are successful in harming their intended victim or not, should be met with immediate vengeance while they are engaged in the attack. (If they desist and it’s possible to safely arrest them, we can have a different conversation.)
I think, however, that that particular case is clear. Most normal people do not have any issue with taking a life in defense of self or defense of others. If it boils down to the question of whose life is more important, then the murderer who engages first loses such rights. And while the murderer is still a threat to others, those in a position to end the threat are faced with difficult decisions – do I neutralize? Or do I end it right here?
We live in a society that functions under the rule of law. In some cases, the law is clear. And in other cases, it’s a little spotty. I remember thinking, as I read John Grisham’s “A Time to Kill,” that Carl Lee Hailey had every right to kill the men who had destroyed his ten-year old daughter’s life, even though they were in a form of custody at the time of his vengeance killing. Was it lawful? No. But who could blame him? And certainly, the jury in that fictional case decided "innocent!"
There were assassination teams that hunted down Nazis after World War II ended. The terrorists responsible for Munich were hunted down. Is this justifiable? I hear both sides – but I don’t think any of these people would have submitted freely if confronted with an arrest warrant.
So where do we fit on the revenge scale today?
This question came home to me this week because of a unique experience I had – on Friday, my sister shared with me an incredible photo she had seen on Facebook, of an older man serving as sandak at his great-grandson’s bris. The picture is quite amazing, perfectly angled and focused on the baby’s perfectly shaped head, underneath which is the short-sleeved arm of the sandak, with the number A-7790 visibly tattooed.
The story behind the photo is no less incredible, as the sandak, a little over 70 years ago, held his brother Akiva in his arms as Akiva died on their way to Auschwitz. And now, in 2017, Saba Zev Berkovitch held his great-grandson, named for the boy who died so long ago, this time for life in the Land of the Jewish People.
I posted the photo on my mohel Facebook page, and within 3 days it was seen by over 160,000 people, shared over 700 times, garnering all the requisite clicks, likes, and comments that define something which has “gone viral.”
Many of the comments spoke of how “this is our revenge against Hitler.” And, I guess to a large degree, that is correct. By and large, Naziism is a criminal offense, or at least viewed as bigoted lunacy in most of the civilized world. And we, the Jewish people, go about our business. We live, we raise families, we teach our children, and we value and celebrate life at every turn.
When we think about what Saba Zev and his generation went through, victims of an ideology hell-bent on murder, devastation and destruction, and we look at how we have survived and built the lives we live, focused on building and progress and supporting our heritage, we see how this is the greatest kind of revenge.
Vengeance – is it a Jewish quality or not?
The truth is, it depends. The Torah, for example, says that if a person kills someone accidentally, the blood of the victim shall be avenged. (Shmot 21:20)
Chapter 19 in Devarim (and in our parsha, Bamidbar 35) discusses the rules surrounding the accidental murder and the need for the perpetrator to run to a city of refuge before the avenging relative will deliver unprosecutable vigilante justice against his relative’s killer. A good portion of tractate Makkot is dedicated to these discussions.
Vayikra 19:18, most famous for its Golden Rule of loving your neighbor, actually begins with the phrase “Do not take revenge nor bear a grudge against the children of your people…”
In Parshat Matot, chapter 31 begins with God telling Moshe, “Take revenge for the Israelites against the Midianites…” This is the prelude to the annihilation war against Midian, the nation responsible for bringing upon Israel a plague that took the lives of 24,000 people.
In the Vayikra passage, the Midrash and many commentaries describe the frowned upon revenge as being of the type which is just spiteful and mean. You didn’t lend me something, so I won’t lend you a different item. You were stingy, so I’ll be stingy back.
On the other hand, the cases of revenge that seem to be sanctioned by the Torah, or at the very least not stopped outright, are when the side seeking vengeance, either a relative or the entire nation of Israel, suffered a loss or many losses at the hands of the target, the erstwhile perpetrator.
And so the propriety of revenge becomes a question of what happened, and what is the benefit of said revenge?
On a personal level, I have very little qualms about revenge or vengeance being taken out against murderers. Last week’s terrorist attack against Israeli police officers on the Temple Mount ended when the perpetrators were killed. Any terrorist who engages in such a cowardly attack, attacking or aiming to murder people who mean them no harm and who are not a threat to them, whether they are successful in harming their intended victim or not, should be met with immediate vengeance while they are engaged in the attack. (If they desist and it’s possible to safely arrest them, we can have a different conversation.)
I think, however, that that particular case is clear. Most normal people do not have any issue with taking a life in defense of self or defense of others. If it boils down to the question of whose life is more important, then the murderer who engages first loses such rights. And while the murderer is still a threat to others, those in a position to end the threat are faced with difficult decisions – do I neutralize? Or do I end it right here?
We live in a society that functions under the rule of law. In some cases, the law is clear. And in other cases, it’s a little spotty. I remember thinking, as I read John Grisham’s “A Time to Kill,” that Carl Lee Hailey had every right to kill the men who had destroyed his ten-year old daughter’s life, even though they were in a form of custody at the time of his vengeance killing. Was it lawful? No. But who could blame him? And certainly, the jury in that fictional case decided "innocent!"
There were assassination teams that hunted down Nazis after World War II ended. The terrorists responsible for Munich were hunted down. Is this justifiable? I hear both sides – but I don’t think any of these people would have submitted freely if confronted with an arrest warrant.
So where do we fit on the revenge scale today?
This question came home to me this week because of a unique experience I had – on Friday, my sister shared with me an incredible photo she had seen on Facebook, of an older man serving as sandak at his great-grandson’s bris. The picture is quite amazing, perfectly angled and focused on the baby’s perfectly shaped head, underneath which is the short-sleeved arm of the sandak, with the number A-7790 visibly tattooed.
The story behind the photo is no less incredible, as the sandak, a little over 70 years ago, held his brother Akiva in his arms as Akiva died on their way to Auschwitz. And now, in 2017, Saba Zev Berkovitch held his great-grandson, named for the boy who died so long ago, this time for life in the Land of the Jewish People.
I posted the photo on my mohel Facebook page, and within 3 days it was seen by over 160,000 people, shared over 700 times, garnering all the requisite clicks, likes, and comments that define something which has “gone viral.”
Many of the comments spoke of how “this is our revenge against Hitler.” And, I guess to a large degree, that is correct. By and large, Naziism is a criminal offense, or at least viewed as bigoted lunacy in most of the civilized world. And we, the Jewish people, go about our business. We live, we raise families, we teach our children, and we value and celebrate life at every turn.
When we think about what Saba Zev and his generation went through, victims of an ideology hell-bent on murder, devastation and destruction, and we look at how we have survived and built the lives we live, focused on building and progress and supporting our heritage, we see how this is the greatest kind of revenge.
Thursday, July 13, 2017
History is Unkind: Now What Should We Do?
Parshat Pinchas
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Bamidbar Chapter 26 is largely dedicated to another census of the Israelites, this time counting the people in the final months before they enter the land of Israel. Owing to the Midrash in Eichah Rabba (Introductions, paragraph 33) which explains how the people would dig graves every Tisha B’Av eve, allowing for those who would die that year to pass in the night time while the survivors would arise in the morning, cover the dead and move on, we know that no one else was going to die from this point until entering the land.
This census comes in the wake of a devastating plague, one from which the people will hopefully learn the lesson to avoid idolatry such as Baal Pe’or, and immorality, as demonstrated by Zimri and Kozbi, who were put to death by Pinchas.
The war with Midian (Chapter 31) which follows, which is a revenge war against Midian for their role in bringing on the plague seems to produce no casualties on the Israelite side. On the contrary side, just about the entire nation of Midian is wiped out, and Bilaam, the necromancer who encouraged Midian to try to defeat Israel through idolatry and feminine-enticement, meets his end in the Midian war.
As it is presented in the text, the census usually follows a very simple formula: the name of the tribe is mentioned, followed by his sons, sometimes grandsons as well, each of which is then defined as a family unit subgroup in the tribe. Then the tally of their army age men is recorded.
One exception to this formula is when the daughters of Tzlafchad are mentioned, an obvious preview to their tale in the coming chapter. More glaring, however, is the exit from the formula that takes place in the tribe of Reuven. 26:5-7 actually follow the formula exactly, including the concluding census of the tribe! However, before moving on to Shimon, we are told the following. “The sons of Falu – Eliav. And the sons of Eliav – Nemuel and Datan and Aviram. Datan and Aviram were the communal leaders who led a revolution against Moshe and Aharon as part of Korach's rebellion against God. The earth opened its mouth and swallowed them and Korach when the [rebellious] group died and fire annihilated 250 men. This involved a divine miracle. The sons of Korach, however, did not die.” (26:9-11)
I suppose it is interesting that in the Falu family there was one son, Eliav, and of Eliav’s sons only Nemuel survived. Whether that should translate to the Falu family becoming known as the Nemuel family is a semantic question which is probably irrelevant. But those are the breaks. Datan and Aviram brought about their own demise, and they brought upon their families the same fate. Does the Torah really need to recall them in the census, when, at this point, they’re a tiny memory, and they don’t even have descendants? And why break from the formula of the census just to recall them?
On a simple level, their story is briefly mentioned, outside of the census formula, because of the obvious reasons for why they're not included in the census. They have zero contribution – their whole families died.
But on a deeper level, perhaps the Torah is reminding us that sometimes history is unkind, or contains inconvenient truths. Just because Datan and Aviram left behind no family, doesn’t mean that their story was insignificant. While there were many complainers through the wilderness, none challenged Moshe and Aharon, and God, in the manner that Datan, Aviram, and Korach did. And so even though they’re not in the census, and in their placement in the verse they are an afterthought, we can’t whitewash them out of history.
History is what it is. What happened happened, and no amount of handwringing can take back ills of the past. The question is, what do we do now?
In contemporary society, there are people who make demands that certain abuses in history need to be corrected, no matter how long ago they took place.
Just to list a few: Columbus stole land, the United States stole land, Africans were enslaved, there was a Confederacy, Japanese were placed in internment camps, WWII. We can go back in time all we want and make claims. But the real question is what is to be done today? While I have no sympathy for Nazis, even 95 year old Nazis, do their grandchildren, especially their Philo-Semitic ones (some grandchildren of Nazis serve in the IDF!) need to pay for the crimes of yesteryear? Do families who emigrated to the United States after slavery ended need to pay for the crime of slavery? Do the great great grandchildren of slaveowners need to pay the great great grandchildren of their ancestors’ slaves? What is the statute of limitations?
Some of these issues are beyond horrifying, while some contain half-truths and distortions in the contemporary conversation. In many cases it’s impossible to turn the clock back and repair what was broken so long ago.
Datan and Aviram being mentioned here shows us that we don’t hide the past to say it never happened. But they’re not part of the census either, which looks to the future. Sometimes after acknowledging the past, we need to look at the current situation for what it is and be able to work together to say, “OK. That was then. We can’t undo that. What we can do is realize that we don’t want to go back to those ways, and we want to work together to build a better tomorrow. How can we do that together?”
A shared forward thinking attitude can mend animus stemming from the past, as long as descendants of both sides share a vision for a peaceful future.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Bamidbar Chapter 26 is largely dedicated to another census of the Israelites, this time counting the people in the final months before they enter the land of Israel. Owing to the Midrash in Eichah Rabba (Introductions, paragraph 33) which explains how the people would dig graves every Tisha B’Av eve, allowing for those who would die that year to pass in the night time while the survivors would arise in the morning, cover the dead and move on, we know that no one else was going to die from this point until entering the land.
This census comes in the wake of a devastating plague, one from which the people will hopefully learn the lesson to avoid idolatry such as Baal Pe’or, and immorality, as demonstrated by Zimri and Kozbi, who were put to death by Pinchas.
The war with Midian (Chapter 31) which follows, which is a revenge war against Midian for their role in bringing on the plague seems to produce no casualties on the Israelite side. On the contrary side, just about the entire nation of Midian is wiped out, and Bilaam, the necromancer who encouraged Midian to try to defeat Israel through idolatry and feminine-enticement, meets his end in the Midian war.
As it is presented in the text, the census usually follows a very simple formula: the name of the tribe is mentioned, followed by his sons, sometimes grandsons as well, each of which is then defined as a family unit subgroup in the tribe. Then the tally of their army age men is recorded.
One exception to this formula is when the daughters of Tzlafchad are mentioned, an obvious preview to their tale in the coming chapter. More glaring, however, is the exit from the formula that takes place in the tribe of Reuven. 26:5-7 actually follow the formula exactly, including the concluding census of the tribe! However, before moving on to Shimon, we are told the following. “The sons of Falu – Eliav. And the sons of Eliav – Nemuel and Datan and Aviram. Datan and Aviram were the communal leaders who led a revolution against Moshe and Aharon as part of Korach's rebellion against God. The earth opened its mouth and swallowed them and Korach when the [rebellious] group died and fire annihilated 250 men. This involved a divine miracle. The sons of Korach, however, did not die.” (26:9-11)
I suppose it is interesting that in the Falu family there was one son, Eliav, and of Eliav’s sons only Nemuel survived. Whether that should translate to the Falu family becoming known as the Nemuel family is a semantic question which is probably irrelevant. But those are the breaks. Datan and Aviram brought about their own demise, and they brought upon their families the same fate. Does the Torah really need to recall them in the census, when, at this point, they’re a tiny memory, and they don’t even have descendants? And why break from the formula of the census just to recall them?
On a simple level, their story is briefly mentioned, outside of the census formula, because of the obvious reasons for why they're not included in the census. They have zero contribution – their whole families died.
But on a deeper level, perhaps the Torah is reminding us that sometimes history is unkind, or contains inconvenient truths. Just because Datan and Aviram left behind no family, doesn’t mean that their story was insignificant. While there were many complainers through the wilderness, none challenged Moshe and Aharon, and God, in the manner that Datan, Aviram, and Korach did. And so even though they’re not in the census, and in their placement in the verse they are an afterthought, we can’t whitewash them out of history.
History is what it is. What happened happened, and no amount of handwringing can take back ills of the past. The question is, what do we do now?
In contemporary society, there are people who make demands that certain abuses in history need to be corrected, no matter how long ago they took place.
Just to list a few: Columbus stole land, the United States stole land, Africans were enslaved, there was a Confederacy, Japanese were placed in internment camps, WWII. We can go back in time all we want and make claims. But the real question is what is to be done today? While I have no sympathy for Nazis, even 95 year old Nazis, do their grandchildren, especially their Philo-Semitic ones (some grandchildren of Nazis serve in the IDF!) need to pay for the crimes of yesteryear? Do families who emigrated to the United States after slavery ended need to pay for the crime of slavery? Do the great great grandchildren of slaveowners need to pay the great great grandchildren of their ancestors’ slaves? What is the statute of limitations?
Some of these issues are beyond horrifying, while some contain half-truths and distortions in the contemporary conversation. In many cases it’s impossible to turn the clock back and repair what was broken so long ago.
Datan and Aviram being mentioned here shows us that we don’t hide the past to say it never happened. But they’re not part of the census either, which looks to the future. Sometimes after acknowledging the past, we need to look at the current situation for what it is and be able to work together to say, “OK. That was then. We can’t undo that. What we can do is realize that we don’t want to go back to those ways, and we want to work together to build a better tomorrow. How can we do that together?”
A shared forward thinking attitude can mend animus stemming from the past, as long as descendants of both sides share a vision for a peaceful future.
Thursday, July 6, 2017
Bilaam Realizes the Fatality of His Mission
Parshat Balak
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Perhaps even more than the man who hired him, Bilaam wanted to curse the Israelite nation. The only thing that held him back from his objective was God only allowing him to say what God wanted him to say.
Bilaam begins asking “How can I curse them, if God hasn’t cursed them?” (23:8)
The commentaries explain what Bilaam means.
Midrash Agadah: God doesn’t want them to be cursed! Since the day they worshipped the Golden Calf they were deserving of a curse, and yet God has heaped upon them more blessings. From the day Yaakov tricked his father into giving him the blessing, he was deserving of a curse, and yet he was blessed, as his father Yitzchak said, “He too shall be blessed.”
Rashi: Shimon and Levi deserved to be cursed for what they did to the people of Shchem. Yet Yaakov only cursed their anger. When they are to stand on the two mountains – Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Eival – the Torah says “These will stand to bless the people,” but we don’t find the opposite language of “these will stand to curse the people.” It only says, “These will stand at the curse.” The difference, Rashi notes, is that we don’t want to place the “Shem Klalah,” the name of “curse” upon any specific tribe or tribes. Even though, presumably, the warnings about the curses may come about due to our ignoring the warnings against the kinds of bad behavior we are meant to avoid.
Rabbenu Bachaye presents two thoughts in explaining Bilaam’s curse:
A. Quoting from the book of Nechemia, Chapter 9, where the verse outlines what happened to the people, despite their deeds. To summarize – the people had made the Golden Calf, but God did not forsake them – never removing the protective cloud or fire which accompanied them. They had manna and water for forty years, during which time their clothes did not wear out.
And on and on, the verse describes the kindnesses God did for this seemingly ungrateful people. The battles won, the inheriting of the land, the kingdom established – all until they rebelled against God yet again. And their presence in the land extended for many years, in the hopes they would improve. Until exile came.
And now, Nechemiah is recording how they had come back. And why? Because God did not abandon His people.
And this is what Bilaam saw – despite the evidence HE had in hand, for why God might have abandoned them.
Bilaam describes the people as Hen Am L’vadad Yishkon – they are a nation that dwells alone. And Rabbenu Bachaye compares this to the statement of Moshe later on in the Torah “You are praised Israel, who is like you?” Israel is a nation unique among all nations.
B. Rabbenu Bachaye also quotes Daniel, who had his own vision of what would happen to the nations of the world – “I looked until the beast was slain, and its body was destroyed and given to a flame of fire. But as for the other beasts, their dominion was removed, and they were given an extension of life until a set time.” At which point the Messianic Era will be upon us, and God’s nation will be given dominion and glory and a kingdom.
We don’t have a crystal ball. We don’t know what will be in the immediate future. We like to say that Israel is here to stay, that Israel is not going anywhere. And I am sure the Jewish people felt that way in the time of Yehoshua and the time of Kings David and Solomon, and in the Return to God in the time of King Yoshiyahu (Josiah), all before the destruction of the First Temple, and once again in the times of Ezra and Nechemiah, as they built the Second Temple and had high hopes it would never be destroyed.
History has not been kind to the Jewish people. But our history has proven that we can survive against all odds and that Bilaam’s words – that the Israelites are not counted itself among other nations (23:9) – has most often been true.
The message of Bilaam’s blessing is that no matter what happens, and of course it is true that some terrible things have happened throughout history, God will nevertheless not abandon the Jewish people. And that when that day of reckoning comes, our people will be present, and will bask in the glory of the day that Daniel describes as - “His dominion is an eternal dominion, which will not be removed, and His kingdom is one which will not be destroyed.” (Daniel 7:14)
May we merit to witness this, speedily in our days.
by Rabbi Avi Billet
Perhaps even more than the man who hired him, Bilaam wanted to curse the Israelite nation. The only thing that held him back from his objective was God only allowing him to say what God wanted him to say.
Bilaam begins asking “How can I curse them, if God hasn’t cursed them?” (23:8)
The commentaries explain what Bilaam means.
Midrash Agadah: God doesn’t want them to be cursed! Since the day they worshipped the Golden Calf they were deserving of a curse, and yet God has heaped upon them more blessings. From the day Yaakov tricked his father into giving him the blessing, he was deserving of a curse, and yet he was blessed, as his father Yitzchak said, “He too shall be blessed.”
Rashi: Shimon and Levi deserved to be cursed for what they did to the people of Shchem. Yet Yaakov only cursed their anger. When they are to stand on the two mountains – Mt. Gerizim and Mt. Eival – the Torah says “These will stand to bless the people,” but we don’t find the opposite language of “these will stand to curse the people.” It only says, “These will stand at the curse.” The difference, Rashi notes, is that we don’t want to place the “Shem Klalah,” the name of “curse” upon any specific tribe or tribes. Even though, presumably, the warnings about the curses may come about due to our ignoring the warnings against the kinds of bad behavior we are meant to avoid.
Rabbenu Bachaye presents two thoughts in explaining Bilaam’s curse:
A. Quoting from the book of Nechemia, Chapter 9, where the verse outlines what happened to the people, despite their deeds. To summarize – the people had made the Golden Calf, but God did not forsake them – never removing the protective cloud or fire which accompanied them. They had manna and water for forty years, during which time their clothes did not wear out.
And on and on, the verse describes the kindnesses God did for this seemingly ungrateful people. The battles won, the inheriting of the land, the kingdom established – all until they rebelled against God yet again. And their presence in the land extended for many years, in the hopes they would improve. Until exile came.
And now, Nechemiah is recording how they had come back. And why? Because God did not abandon His people.
And this is what Bilaam saw – despite the evidence HE had in hand, for why God might have abandoned them.
Bilaam describes the people as Hen Am L’vadad Yishkon – they are a nation that dwells alone. And Rabbenu Bachaye compares this to the statement of Moshe later on in the Torah “You are praised Israel, who is like you?” Israel is a nation unique among all nations.
B. Rabbenu Bachaye also quotes Daniel, who had his own vision of what would happen to the nations of the world – “I looked until the beast was slain, and its body was destroyed and given to a flame of fire. But as for the other beasts, their dominion was removed, and they were given an extension of life until a set time.” At which point the Messianic Era will be upon us, and God’s nation will be given dominion and glory and a kingdom.
We don’t have a crystal ball. We don’t know what will be in the immediate future. We like to say that Israel is here to stay, that Israel is not going anywhere. And I am sure the Jewish people felt that way in the time of Yehoshua and the time of Kings David and Solomon, and in the Return to God in the time of King Yoshiyahu (Josiah), all before the destruction of the First Temple, and once again in the times of Ezra and Nechemiah, as they built the Second Temple and had high hopes it would never be destroyed.
History has not been kind to the Jewish people. But our history has proven that we can survive against all odds and that Bilaam’s words – that the Israelites are not counted itself among other nations (23:9) – has most often been true.
The message of Bilaam’s blessing is that no matter what happens, and of course it is true that some terrible things have happened throughout history, God will nevertheless not abandon the Jewish people. And that when that day of reckoning comes, our people will be present, and will bask in the glory of the day that Daniel describes as - “His dominion is an eternal dominion, which will not be removed, and His kingdom is one which will not be destroyed.” (Daniel 7:14)
May we merit to witness this, speedily in our days.
Monday, July 3, 2017
The formula: How Moshe Teaches Profound Lessons of Faith
Look at the most recent blog posts here, and you'll find a bit of an obsession over the Mei Merivah story. Putting a lot of thought to understanding it better each year often gets me to reimagine how to read the story.
One newer insight concerns the differences between how the nation is depicted in Bamidbar 20:2,3,4 - once they are defined as עדה (a united group), once as העם (the nation - though less united than Eidah), and once as קהל ה (the congregation of God), which can be heard in my shiur on YUTorah.
It is a combination of the teachings of Kli Yakar and Netziv, however, which inspired what I share with you now.
One of the main issues God raises against Moshe and Aharon in the aftermath of the Mei Merivah story is "Since you did not have/cause faith in Me, to sanctify Me to the people..." In other words, there needed to have been a Kiddush Hashem - a sanctification of God's name - from which the people would see and understand that God is here, He is the One Who brought forth water from the well, and Moshe and Aharon are his messengers who helped us, the people, learn these important lessons.
Clearly Moshe and Aharon did not do that in Bamidbar Chapter 20. They were given three instructions:
1. Take the staff (which staff is a subject of debate)
2. Gather the עדה (one word for the people)
3. Speak at/to the rock before the eyes of the people (ideally so water will come out on its own)
3.5. If that procedure doesn't work, then you shall bring forth water for the people (in the manner you know how - breaking instruction 3 into two parts is a reflection of the view point of Netziv)
In terms of following God's command, they only do the first
1. He took the staff, as he had been commanded (20:9)
2. They gathered the קהל (different group than they had been instructed to gather)
3. They spoke to the people, but it was more a critique than instructive or inspirational
3.5. Because nothing happened, Moshe hit the rock to bring forth water
It is noteworthy that there was a time when Moshe's hitting the rock was appropriate, in which he did exactly as God told him. And there was another time when God told Moshe to speak to the people, and through his actions, Moshe demonstrated God's power, causing perhaps the greatest moment and expression of faith that the Jewish people had ever experienced until that time.
Here they are, with the significant-to-our-discussion points in bold.
For the benefit of those who don't read Hebrew, beyond the chart, any references to the chart breakdown will be in English, with the verses being cited by their book, chapter and number.
שמות פרק יד
(יב) הֲלֹא־זֶ֣ה הַדָּבָ֗ר אֲשֶׁר֩ דִּבַּ֨רְנוּ
אֵלֶ֤יךָ בְמִצְרַ֙יִם֙ לֵאמֹ֔ר חֲדַ֥ל מִמֶּ֖נּוּ וְנַֽעַבְדָ֣ה אֶת־מִצְרָ֑יִם
כִּ֣י ט֥וֹב לָ֙נוּ֙ עֲבֹ֣ד אֶת־ מִצְרַ֔יִם מִמֻּתֵ֖נוּ בַּמִּדְבָּֽר: (יג) וַיֹּ֨אמֶר מֹשֶׁ֣ה אֶל־הָעָם֘ אַל־תִּירָאוּ֒
הִֽתְיַצְּב֗וּ וּרְאוּ֙ אֶת־יְשׁוּעַ֣ת יְקֹוָ֔ק אֲשֶׁר־יַעֲשֶׂ֥ה לָכֶ֖ם הַיּ֑וֹם
כִּ֗י אֲשֶׁ֨ר רְאִיתֶ֤ם אֶת־ מִצְרַ֙יִם֙ הַיּ֔וֹם לֹ֥א תֹסִ֛פוּ לִרְאֹתָ֥ם ע֖וֹד
עַד־עוֹלָֽם: (יד) יְקֹוָ֖ק יִלָּחֵ֣ם לָכֶ֑ם
וְאַתֶּ֖ם תַּחֲרִשֽׁוּן: פ (טו) וַיֹּ֤אמֶר
יְקֹוָק֙ אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֔ה מַה־תִּצְעַ֖ק אֵלָ֑י דַּבֵּ֥ר אֶל־בְּנֵי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל וְיִסָּֽעוּ: (טז) וְאַתָּ֞ה הָרֵ֣ם אֶֽת־מַטְּךָ֗ וּנְטֵ֧ה
אֶת־יָדְךָ֛ עַל־הַיָּ֖ם וּבְקָעֵ֑הוּ וְיָבֹ֧אוּ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֛ל בְּת֥וֹךְ
הַיָּ֖ם בַּיַּבָּשָֽׁה:... (כא) וַיֵּ֨ט
מֹשֶׁ֣ה אֶת־יָדוֹ֘ עַל־הַיָּם֒ וַיּ֣וֹלֶךְ יְקֹוָ֣ק׀ אֶת־הַ֠יָּם בְּר֨וּחַ
קָדִ֤ים עַזָּה֙ כָּל־הַלַּ֔יְלָה וַיָּ֥שֶׂם אֶת־הַיָּ֖ם לֶחָרָבָ֑ה וַיִּבָּקְע֖וּ
הַמָּֽיִם:
(כב) וַיָּבֹ֧אוּ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֛ל בְּת֥וֹךְ
הַיָּ֖ם בַּיַּבָּשָׁ֑ה וְהַמַּ֤יִם לָהֶם֙ חוֹמָ֔ה מִֽימִינָ֖ם וּמִשְּׂמֹאלָֽם:...
(כו) וַיֹּ֤אמֶר יְקֹוָק֙ אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֔ה נְטֵ֥ה
אֶת־יָדְךָ֖ עַל־הַיָּ֑ם וְיָשֻׁ֤בוּ הַמַּ֙יִם֙ עַל־מִצְרַ֔יִם עַל־רִכְבּ֖וֹ
וְעַל־פָּרָשָֽׁיו: (כז) וַיֵּט֙ מֹשֶׁ֨ה
אֶת־יָד֜וֹ עַל־הַיָּ֗ם וַיָּ֨שָׁב הַיָּ֜ם לִפְנ֥וֹת בֹּ֙קֶר֙ לְאֵ֣יתָנ֔וֹ
וּמִצְרַ֖יִם נָסִ֣ים לִקְרָאת֑וֹ וַיְנַעֵ֧ר יְקֹוָ֛ק אֶת־מִצְרַ֖יִם בְּת֥וֹךְ
הַיָּֽם: (ל) וַיּ֨וֹשַׁע יְקֹוָ֜ק בַּיּ֥וֹם הַה֛וּא אֶת־יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל
מִיַּ֣ד מִצְרָ֑יִם וַיַּ֤רְא יִשְׂרָאֵל֙ אֶת־מִצְרַ֔יִם מֵ֖ת עַל־שְׂפַ֥ת הַיָּֽם: (לא) וַיַּ֨רְא יִשְׂרָאֵ֜ל אֶת־הַיָּ֣ד הַגְּדֹלָ֗ה
אֲשֶׁ֨ר עָשָׂ֤ה יְקֹוָק֙ בְּמִצְרַ֔יִם וַיִּֽירְא֥וּ הָעָ֖ם אֶת־יְקֹוָ֑ק וַֽיַּאֲמִ֙ינוּ֙
בַּֽיקֹוָ֔ק וּבְמֹשֶׁ֖ה עַבְדּֽוֹ:
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שמות פרק יז
(א) וַ֠יִּסְעוּ כָּל־עֲדַ֨ת בְּנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֧ל
מִמִּדְבַּר־סִ֛ין לְמַסְעֵיהֶ֖ם עַל־פִּ֣י יְקֹוָ֑ק וַֽיַּחֲנוּ֙ בִּרְפִידִ֔ים
וְאֵ֥ין מַ֖יִם לִשְׁתֹּ֥ת הָעָֽם: (ב) וַיָּ֤רֶב
הָעָם֙ עִם־מֹשֶׁ֔ה וַיֹּ֣אמְר֔וּ תְּנוּ־לָ֥נוּ מַ֖יִם וְנִשְׁתֶּ֑ה וַיֹּ֤אמֶר
לָהֶם֙ מֹשֶׁ֔ה מַה־תְּרִיבוּן֙ עִמָּדִ֔י מַה־תְּנַסּ֖וּן אֶת־יְקֹוָֽק: (ג) וַיִּצְמָ֨א שָׁ֤ם הָעָם֙ לַמַּ֔יִם וַיָּ֥לֶן
הָעָ֖ם עַל־מֹשֶׁ֑ה וַיֹּ֗אמֶר לָ֤מָּה זֶּה֙ הֶעֱלִיתָ֣נוּ מִמִּצְרַ֔יִם לְהָמִ֥ית
אֹתִ֛י וְאֶת־בָּנַ֥י וְאֶת־מִקְנַ֖י בַּצָּמָֽא: (ד) וַיִּצְעַ֤ק מֹשֶׁה֙ אֶל־יְקֹוָ֣ק לֵאמֹ֔ר
מָ֥ה אֶעֱשֶׂ֖ה לָעָ֣ם הַזֶּ֑ה ע֥וֹד מְעַ֖ט וּסְקָלֻֽנִי: (ה) וַיֹּ֨אמֶר יְקֹוָ֜ק אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֗ה עֲבֹר֙ לִפְנֵ֣י
הָעָ֔ם וְקַ֥ח אִתְּךָ֖ מִזִּקְנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל וּמַטְּךָ֗ אֲשֶׁ֨ר הִכִּ֤יתָ
בּוֹ֙ אֶת־הַיְאֹ֔ר קַ֥ח בְּיָדְךָ֖ וְהָלָֽכְתָּ: (ו) הִנְנִ֣י עֹמֵד֩ לְפָנֶ֨יךָ שָּׁ֥ם׀ עַֽל־הַצּוּר֘
בְּחֹרֵב֒ וְהִכִּ֣יתָ בַצּ֗וּר וְיָצְא֥וּ מִמֶּ֛נּוּ מַ֖יִם וְשָׁתָ֣ה הָעָ֑ם
וַיַּ֤עַשׂ כֵּן֙ מֹשֶׁ֔ה לְעֵינֵ֖י זִקְנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל: (ז) וַיִּקְרָא֙ שֵׁ֣ם הַמָּק֔וֹם מַסָּ֖ה
וּמְרִיבָ֑ה עַל־רִ֣יב׀ בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֗ל וְעַ֨ל נַסֹּתָ֤ם אֶת־יְקֹוָק֙ לֵאמֹ֔ר
הֲיֵ֧שׁ יְקֹוָ֛ק בְּקִרְבֵּ֖נוּ אִם־אָֽיִן:
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במדבר פרק כ
(ב) וְלֹא־הָ֥יָה מַ֖יִם לָעֵדָ֑ה וַיִּקָּ֣הֲל֔וּ
עַל־מֹשֶׁ֖ה וְעַֽל־אַהֲרֹֽן: (ג) וַיָּ֥רֶב
הָעָ֖ם עִם־מֹשֶׁ֑ה וַיֹּאמְר֣וּ לֵאמֹ֔ר וְל֥וּ גָוַ֛עְנוּ בִּגְוַ֥ע אַחֵ֖ינוּ
לִפְנֵ֥י יְקֹוָֽק: (ד) וְלָמָ֤ה הֲבֵאתֶם֙
אֶת־קְהַ֣ל יְקֹוָ֔ק אֶל־הַמִּדְבָּ֖ר הַזֶּ֑ה לָמ֣וּת שָׁ֔ם אֲנַ֖חְנוּ וּבְעִירֵֽנוּ: (ה) וְלָמָ֤ה הֶֽעֱלִיתֻ֙נוּ֙ מִמִּצְרַ֔יִם לְהָבִ֣יא
אֹתָ֔נוּ אֶל־הַמָּק֥וֹם הָרָ֖ע הַזֶּ֑ה לֹ֣א׀ מְק֣וֹם זֶ֗רַע וּתְאֵנָ֤ה וְגֶ֙פֶן֙
וְרִמּ֔וֹן וּמַ֥יִם אַ֖יִן לִשְׁתּֽוֹת:
(ו) וַיָּבֹא֩ מֹשֶׁ֨ה וְאַהֲרֹ֜ן מִפְּנֵ֣י הַקָּהָ֗ל אֶל־פֶּ֙תַח֙ אֹ֣הֶל
מוֹעֵ֔ד וַֽיִּפְּל֖וּ עַל־פְּנֵיהֶ֑ם וַיֵּרָ֥א כְבוֹד־יְקֹוָ֖ק אֲלֵיהֶֽם: פ (ז) וַיְדַבֵּ֥ר יְקֹוָ֖ק אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֥ה לֵּאמֹֽר:
(ז) וַיְדַבֵּ֥ר יְקֹוָ֖ק אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֥ה לֵּאמֹֽר: (ח) קַ֣ח אֶת־הַמַּטֶּ֗ה וְהַקְהֵ֤ל אֶת־הָעֵדָה֙
אַתָּה֙ וְאַהֲרֹ֣ן אָחִ֔יךָ וְדִבַּרְתֶּ֧ם אֶל־הַסֶּ֛לַע לְעֵינֵיהֶ֖ם וְנָתַ֣ן
מֵימָ֑יו וְהוֹצֵאתָ֙ לָהֶ֥ם מַ֙יִם֙ מִן־ הַסֶּ֔לַע וְהִשְׁקִיתָ֥ אֶת־הָעֵדָ֖ה
וְאֶת־בְּעִירָֽם: (ט) וַיִּקַּ֥ח
מֹשֶׁ֛ה אֶת־הַמַּטֶּ֖ה מִלִּפְנֵ֣י יְקֹוָ֑ק כַּאֲשֶׁ֖ר צִוָּֽהוּ: (י) וַיַּקְהִ֜לוּ מֹשֶׁ֧ה וְאַהֲרֹ֛ן אֶת־הַקָּהָ֖ל
אֶל־פְּנֵ֣י הַסָּ֑לַע וַיֹּ֣אמֶר לָהֶ֗ם שִׁמְעוּ־נָא֙ הַמֹּרִ֔ים הֲמִן־הַסֶּ֣לַע
הַזֶּ֔ה נוֹצִ֥יא לָכֶ֖ם מָֽיִם: (יא) וַיָּ֨רֶם
מֹשֶׁ֜ה אֶת־יָד֗וֹ וַיַּ֧ךְ אֶת־הַסֶּ֛לַע בְּמַטֵּ֖הוּ פַּעֲמָ֑יִם וַיֵּצְאוּ֙
מַ֣יִם רַבִּ֔ים וַתֵּ֥שְׁתְּ הָעֵדָ֖ה וּבְעִירָֽם: ס (יב)
וַיֹּ֣אמֶר יְקֹוָק֘ אֶל־מֹשֶׁ֣ה וְאֶֽל־אַהֲרֹן֒ יַ֚עַן לֹא־הֶאֱמַנְתֶּ֣ם בִּ֔י
לְהַ֨קְדִּישֵׁ֔נִי לְעֵינֵ֖י בְּנֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל לָכֵ֗ן לֹ֤א תָבִ֙יאוּ֙ אֶת־הַקָּהָ֣ל
הַזֶּ֔ה אֶל־הָאָ֖רֶץ אֲשֶׁר־נָתַ֥תִּי לָהֶֽם:
(יג) הֵ֚מָּה מֵ֣י מְרִיבָ֔ה אֲשֶׁר־רָב֥וּ בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל אֶת־יְקֹוָ֑ק
וַיִּקָּדֵ֖שׁ בָּֽם:
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In Shmot 17, the people fight with Moshe (verse 2) just as they do in Bamidbar 20:3 (in both cases the עם) . They similarly complain as well (Shmot 17:3, Bamidbar 20:4-5) about being taken out of Egypt to die of thirst in the wilderness, along with their children and animals.
In Shmot 17, Moshe is told to contend with the עם. (See 17:4-6). In Bamidbar Moshe is instructed to deal with עדה, in other words to ignore the עם, and instead he contends with the קהל. (See 20:10) Though eventually it is the עדה who all drink. (20:11) However, his punishment is over how he dealt with the קהל. (See 20:12)
One major distinction between Shmot 17 and Bamidbar 20 is that in Shmot, Moshe is instructed to "Take your staff," not an ambiguous staff, "and strike the rock, and water will come out, and the people will drink" And MOSHE DID EXACTLY WHAT HE WAS TOLD TO DO (17:6). In Bamidbar 20, the only confirmation we have of Moshe doing what he was told to do is in 20:9, after he took the staff, but before anything else happened.
This leads us to Shmot 14, the lead-in to the splitting of the sea.
As the Egyptian army is pursuing the people also ask of Moshe why he took them out of Egypt (14:12). Moshe tells the עם not to be afraid (presumably other factions of the people were just waiting for instruction), and then God tells him, "What are you screaming at Me for? Speak to the Israelites and they should move! (14:15) As for you - הרם את מטך - lift your staff (Kli Yakar says this means 'remove your staff') and ונטה את ידך - spread your hand over the sea.and split it... (14:16)"
In the remaining verses whenever the "miracle-working device" is referenced, it is always Moshe's hand, in verses 21, 26, 27, and 31. And what is the end result? The people see the hand of Moshe, and THEY BELIEVED IN GOD AND IN MOSHE (AS) HIS SERVANT.
The formula is - follow what God tells you to the letter. Don't make your stick into a miracle-worker/magic wand, and make sure the people see your hand as an extension of the power of the Almighty.
And this is in fact the problem in Bamidbar 20. Look at verse 11, where Moshe is מרים (removes, according to Kli Yakar) his hand, and then uses his staff to bring about a miracle - one which nobody notices should be attributed to God. What should follow is a declaration of the faith of the people, exactly like we see in Shmot 14:31.
What we find instead is no such declaration. We find that Moshe and Aharon declared to the people "Will we bring forth water for you from this rock?" instead of "will God bring forth water for you from this rock?" The critique they gave, when they were told to speak (in Shmot 14:15 they were told to tell the people to travel, and that became the clear goal, in addition to the sanctification of God's name), comes to haunt them in that they not only spoke inappropriately but completely left God out of the picture.
Combine it all together, and you see the mess they put themselves in.
What we find instead is no such declaration. We find that Moshe and Aharon declared to the people "Will we bring forth water for you from this rock?" instead of "will God bring forth water for you from this rock?" The critique they gave, when they were told to speak (in Shmot 14:15 they were told to tell the people to travel, and that became the clear goal, in addition to the sanctification of God's name), comes to haunt them in that they not only spoke inappropriately but completely left God out of the picture.
Combine it all together, and you see the mess they put themselves in.
Sunday, July 2, 2017
Netziv on Moshe's Sin
One of the most relevant questions to understanding the fallout to the Mei Merivah story is whether the punishment fits the crime.
In other words, if the way God runs the world, in terms of reward and punishment, is through the principle of Measure for Measure - מדה כנגד מדה (Middah K'negged Middah) in Hebrew - then anytime there seems to be a punishment we need to ask ourselves "How is this Middah K'negged Middah?" And if we don't see it, then we are not understanding what the crime is and/or what the punishment is.
Just to bring one example in terms of how the story is clearly misunderstood:
Crime: Moshe hit the rock
Punishment: You can't enter the Promised Land.
This is why I have thoroughly rejected this interpretation of this story. Because it doesn't follow how God runs the world.
I recently became aware of Netziv's interpretation of this story, and one of the most remarkable aspects of how he explains the "sin" of Moshe is in his actual addressing the Middah K'negged Middah component of this story.
So, here goes.
The instruction to Moshe and Aharon to speak to the rock - ודברתם אל הסלע - was to address the people at the rock, to teach an ethical teaching or a law, so the people can take away a lesson for how to deal with adversity.
The rock was put into the order of the world. Just as clouds can provide rain, just as the Nile overflows, God put into the order of the world that this rock should produce water.
The reason for the rock to stop giving water was to give the people ample time to learn how to struggle with nature. The rock wasn't going to be with them forever. Now that Miriam has passed, we are clearly in the 40th year, which means that natural living in the Land, being dependent on water through natural means, etc. is an idea the people will have to begin to get used to.
And there will certainly come a time when the people will sin and the land will not have rain! What are they to do? This is what the task of Mei Merivah was all about. For Moshe to inspire the people, for his words to have an impact, and for the congregation to pray together, as is described in Mesechet Taanit.
According to Netziv, the staff was a backup plan, if the speaking to the people to get them to pray wouldn't work. After all, the people shouldn't be left without water. But the quantity of water they get is dependent on their sincerity. After all, in hindsight we know that they complained for water shortly after this in 21:5, which stands to indicate that the water Moshe brought forth was enough for a very short time.
In choosing to rebuke the people rather than inspire them, Moshe and Aharon both lost out on a tremendous opportunity to teach them survival skills for the land of Israel, skills that are utilized even today during times of drought.
So the punishment was, in this light, measure for measure. If they can't lead the people in teaching them skills for how to live in the land, they can't lead the people into that very land.
This teaching of the Netziv set the stage for a new revelation about how Moshe is supposed to conduct himself in this story (and doesn't), which I'll share in the next blog post.
In other words, if the way God runs the world, in terms of reward and punishment, is through the principle of Measure for Measure - מדה כנגד מדה (Middah K'negged Middah) in Hebrew - then anytime there seems to be a punishment we need to ask ourselves "How is this Middah K'negged Middah?" And if we don't see it, then we are not understanding what the crime is and/or what the punishment is.
Just to bring one example in terms of how the story is clearly misunderstood:
Crime: Moshe hit the rock
Punishment: You can't enter the Promised Land.
This is why I have thoroughly rejected this interpretation of this story. Because it doesn't follow how God runs the world.
I recently became aware of Netziv's interpretation of this story, and one of the most remarkable aspects of how he explains the "sin" of Moshe is in his actual addressing the Middah K'negged Middah component of this story.
So, here goes.
The instruction to Moshe and Aharon to speak to the rock - ודברתם אל הסלע - was to address the people at the rock, to teach an ethical teaching or a law, so the people can take away a lesson for how to deal with adversity.
The rock was put into the order of the world. Just as clouds can provide rain, just as the Nile overflows, God put into the order of the world that this rock should produce water.
The reason for the rock to stop giving water was to give the people ample time to learn how to struggle with nature. The rock wasn't going to be with them forever. Now that Miriam has passed, we are clearly in the 40th year, which means that natural living in the Land, being dependent on water through natural means, etc. is an idea the people will have to begin to get used to.
And there will certainly come a time when the people will sin and the land will not have rain! What are they to do? This is what the task of Mei Merivah was all about. For Moshe to inspire the people, for his words to have an impact, and for the congregation to pray together, as is described in Mesechet Taanit.
According to Netziv, the staff was a backup plan, if the speaking to the people to get them to pray wouldn't work. After all, the people shouldn't be left without water. But the quantity of water they get is dependent on their sincerity. After all, in hindsight we know that they complained for water shortly after this in 21:5, which stands to indicate that the water Moshe brought forth was enough for a very short time.
In choosing to rebuke the people rather than inspire them, Moshe and Aharon both lost out on a tremendous opportunity to teach them survival skills for the land of Israel, skills that are utilized even today during times of drought.
So the punishment was, in this light, measure for measure. If they can't lead the people in teaching them skills for how to live in the land, they can't lead the people into that very land.
This teaching of the Netziv set the stage for a new revelation about how Moshe is supposed to conduct himself in this story (and doesn't), which I'll share in the next blog post.
Saturday, July 1, 2017
A New Interpretation of "Al Asher M'ritem Pi" - the Sin of Moshe and Aharon
When God explains why Moshe and Aharon will not lead the people into the land, or, as soon becomes clear, enter the land, He utilizes 4 different words to describe what Moshe and Aharon did wrong at "Mei Merivah" - at the episode in Bamidbar 20 when Moshe hit the rock.
Surprisingly, God never says "Because you hit the rock..." Which is why I thoroughly reject that interpretation, as it has so many fundamental problems with it, including, most basically, the logic that suggests, "Because you hit the rock, you will die and not enter the land - not alive, or even to be buried there."
Anyway, the four terms are explained in greater detail here, but I'll summarize them here for ease of reference.
לא האמנתם בי - Lo Heemantem Bi - You did not have faith in Me, or you did not cause the people to have faith in Me
להקדישני - L'hakdisheini - to sanctify Me - you did not cause a Kiddush Hashem
מריתם פי - M'ritem Pi - you rebelled against My mouth (My words?)
מעלתם בי - Ma'altem Bi - You desecrated against Me
When reading through the segment of Bamidbar 20:7-13, three of these phrases can easily be understood. The one which I find most troubling, and difficult to understand is the 3rd - מריתם פי. How did Moshe and Aharon rebel against God's mouth? God told them to take a staff, gather the people, and bring forth water! Check, check and check! All 3 were done!
As the designated chapter of Pirkei Avot study for this week happens to be Chapter 5, I was reading through it, when the following epiphany came to me.
The next items are the rainbow, manna, the staff, the shamir (a kind of worm), the font, the writing (presumably in the 2 tablets), and the 2 tablets.
Moshe encountered some of these in his lifetime, and of those he encountered - or existed during his life - he glorified them and raised the honor of God through them in a significant way.
The mouth of the earth - Moshe told everyone who was challenging him that "If an act of creation is done by God, and the earth opens up and swallows all the challengers, you'll know that God sent me."
The mouth of the donkey - though Moshe did not see or experience the donkey's speech, he writes in the Torah that God opened up the mouth of the donkey, which spoke to Bilaam.
Manna - Moshe is the biggest defender of the manna, telling the people they should keep Shabbat when the manna doesn't fall on Saturday, and telling the people every time they complain about the manna (how sick they are of eating the same thing every day) that they don't appreciate what God is doing for them!
The staff - no matter which staff this refers to, Aharon's or Moshe's (though it is most likely Moshe's), Moshe certainly raises the role of the staff to be something admired by the people, as he take pains to indicate that any miracle seemingly performed by the staff in actuality comes from God.
The tablets (and the font and writing) - Moshe breaks the first tablets, true, but the Talmud claims that God said to Moshe "Yasher Koach!" - in other words, your breaking the Tablets was the right thing to do! That Moshe lovingly crafted the second set of Tablets, and that he took pains to make sure the second set were preserved, is undeniable. He clearly honored the tablets in whatever way he could.
Which leaves us with Pi Ha'b'er - the mouth of the well. And here is where it gets sticky. Because God says "You did not have faith in Me (or cause the people to have faith in Me) to sanctify Me to the eyes of the people." And the truth is, while Moshe can take the credit (or demerit) of hitting the rock, Aharon is left in the lurch, because what did he do? He was told to gather the people, and speak at/to the rock.
So we have to look at what was said. And what was said was המן הסלע הזה נוציא לכם מים - Will we be drawing water from this rock for you?
Ramban is of the view that this is where Moshe and Aharon went wrong, because they said will WE be bringing forth water, when they should have said, "See how GOD will bring forth water." In Aharon's not objecting to this language, he is complicit in taking the credit for it. But worse than taking the credit, they're not attaching a sanctification of GOD to the role played by the Mouth of the Well.
And so, maybe, the מריתם פי is referring to this idea - that the MOUTH mentioned by God refers to the mouth of the well mentioned in this Mishnah in Avot, the only mouth that - at least in this episode - is not sanctified by Moshe and Aharon as being this fantasmagorical creation of God.
Surprisingly, God never says "Because you hit the rock..." Which is why I thoroughly reject that interpretation, as it has so many fundamental problems with it, including, most basically, the logic that suggests, "Because you hit the rock, you will die and not enter the land - not alive, or even to be buried there."
Anyway, the four terms are explained in greater detail here, but I'll summarize them here for ease of reference.
לא האמנתם בי - Lo Heemantem Bi - You did not have faith in Me, or you did not cause the people to have faith in Me
להקדישני - L'hakdisheini - to sanctify Me - you did not cause a Kiddush Hashem
מריתם פי - M'ritem Pi - you rebelled against My mouth (My words?)
מעלתם בי - Ma'altem Bi - You desecrated against Me
When reading through the segment of Bamidbar 20:7-13, three of these phrases can easily be understood. The one which I find most troubling, and difficult to understand is the 3rd - מריתם פי. How did Moshe and Aharon rebel against God's mouth? God told them to take a staff, gather the people, and bring forth water! Check, check and check! All 3 were done!
As the designated chapter of Pirkei Avot study for this week happens to be Chapter 5, I was reading through it, when the following epiphany came to me.
משנה מסכת אבות פרק ה
משנה ו
[*] עשרה דברים נבראו בערב שבת בין השמשות ואלו הן פי הארץ ופי הבאר ופי האתון והקשת והמן והמטה והשמיר והכתב והמכתב והלוחות ויש אומרים אף המזיקין וקבורתו של משה ואילו של אברהם אבינו ויש אומרים אף צבת בצבת עשויה:
The Mishnah describes how ten things were created during twilight post the 6th day of Creation. (It also mentions a few additional items after the original list of 10). The first three are all described as the mouth of something - and the three items happen to appear in last week's parsha (Korach), this week's parsha (Chukat) and next week's parsha (Balak). The mouth of the earth, the mouth of the well, and the mouth of the donkey.The next items are the rainbow, manna, the staff, the shamir (a kind of worm), the font, the writing (presumably in the 2 tablets), and the 2 tablets.
Moshe encountered some of these in his lifetime, and of those he encountered - or existed during his life - he glorified them and raised the honor of God through them in a significant way.
The mouth of the earth - Moshe told everyone who was challenging him that "If an act of creation is done by God, and the earth opens up and swallows all the challengers, you'll know that God sent me."
The mouth of the donkey - though Moshe did not see or experience the donkey's speech, he writes in the Torah that God opened up the mouth of the donkey, which spoke to Bilaam.
Manna - Moshe is the biggest defender of the manna, telling the people they should keep Shabbat when the manna doesn't fall on Saturday, and telling the people every time they complain about the manna (how sick they are of eating the same thing every day) that they don't appreciate what God is doing for them!
The staff - no matter which staff this refers to, Aharon's or Moshe's (though it is most likely Moshe's), Moshe certainly raises the role of the staff to be something admired by the people, as he take pains to indicate that any miracle seemingly performed by the staff in actuality comes from God.
The tablets (and the font and writing) - Moshe breaks the first tablets, true, but the Talmud claims that God said to Moshe "Yasher Koach!" - in other words, your breaking the Tablets was the right thing to do! That Moshe lovingly crafted the second set of Tablets, and that he took pains to make sure the second set were preserved, is undeniable. He clearly honored the tablets in whatever way he could.
Which leaves us with Pi Ha'b'er - the mouth of the well. And here is where it gets sticky. Because God says "You did not have faith in Me (or cause the people to have faith in Me) to sanctify Me to the eyes of the people." And the truth is, while Moshe can take the credit (or demerit) of hitting the rock, Aharon is left in the lurch, because what did he do? He was told to gather the people, and speak at/to the rock.
So we have to look at what was said. And what was said was המן הסלע הזה נוציא לכם מים - Will we be drawing water from this rock for you?
Ramban is of the view that this is where Moshe and Aharon went wrong, because they said will WE be bringing forth water, when they should have said, "See how GOD will bring forth water." In Aharon's not objecting to this language, he is complicit in taking the credit for it. But worse than taking the credit, they're not attaching a sanctification of GOD to the role played by the Mouth of the Well.
And so, maybe, the מריתם פי is referring to this idea - that the MOUTH mentioned by God refers to the mouth of the well mentioned in this Mishnah in Avot, the only mouth that - at least in this episode - is not sanctified by Moshe and Aharon as being this fantasmagorical creation of God.
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