No (Male) Moabites - A Reminder To Forgive and Move On

Parshat Ki Tetze

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Everyone who is familiar with the story of Ruth knows the Talmudic sentiment (Yevamot 69a, 77a and Ketuvot 7b) that a Moabite female is permitted to join the Jewish people. The Talmud has a classic word-game which helps clarify the mitzvah in Devarim 23:4-7, that an Ammonite and a Moabite may never join the Jewish people.

 The Torah gives two reasons for the mitzvah: “Because they did not greet you with bread and water when you were on the way out of Egypt, and also because they hired Balaam son of Beor from Pethor in Aram Naharaim to curse you.” (23:5) (Compare this to Devarim 2:29)

 It is understandable that the Moabites would be viewed negatively in that generation. But forever? The modern reader will certainly be troubled by what seems to be a racial sentiment in this law, that there is an inherent flaw in Moabite males that can never be undone, that there is no way Moabite men can ever overcome their natural feelings towards the Jewish people, no matter how society evolves and the world changes.

 Could this really be the Torah’s message?

 To call this a racial flaw is wrong, simply because Moabite women are welcome to join the Jewish people. But putting the Moabite men in such a category seems to fall under the rubric of a national “punishment” – irrespective of an individual’s behavior – that can last forever.

 There is much more background to this story that is needed to help us understand the Torah’s message. Firstly, Ammon and Moav were children of Avraham’s nephew Lot. This made them, in Torah terms, brothers with the Israelite nation. They were untouchable and their land was untouchable. However, owing to the fact that Sichon King of Emori had conquered the lands of Ammon and Moav (Bamidbar 21:26), their original lands were no longer unavailable to the Israelites. When Sichon came out to attack (Bamidbar 21:23), he opened himself to losing all his lands, including those he had conquered himself.

 See how Israel treated Edom (Bamidbar 20:14-21), Esav’s kin, offering to merely pass through their land while reminding them “We are your brothers, you know what we’ve been through,” we have no issues with you as we are merely going to retrieve our Promised Land. There is no reason to assume they would have treated Moav any differently (See Shoftim 11:18). And yet, Moav spends an entire Torah portion (Parshat Balak) trying to destroy the Israelite nation through necromancy and the curses of Bilaam.

 The Midrash Tanaim raises the possibility that “when you come to a city to fight, you should first offer peace” includes reaching out in this fashion to the Ammon and Moav nations, but concludes that it does not include them. But then the Midrash goes on to recount an episode when a potential Ammonite convert came to the religious court during the Talmudic period. Rabban Gamliel told him he could not join the Jewish people, while Rabbi Shimon said he could. When Rabban Gamliel challenged Rabbi Shimon based on the verse in the Torah, Rabbi Yehoshua countered saying that Sennacherib had thrown the world into disarray replacing populations, and there was no longer any truly identifiable Ammonite or Moabite.

 In simple terms, this would suggest that God had a plan for a certain amount of time, knowing that Sennacherib would come along one day and neutralize this law – along with the law of killing Amalekites, etc.

 Another answer is one that I first read in a sermon of Rabbi Norman Lamm from the 1960s in which he decried judging the Torah’s laws and narrative based on modern sensibilities which tend to be become more liberal over time.

 And yet, maybe there is something to the everlasting grudge. Ramban says, “Even though they are your family, and Avraham your father loved their father [Lot] like a brother, you cannot be brothers with them, because they abrogated the covenant of brotherhood, and destroyed it forever.” Certainly until Sennacherib, the national punishment against the male Moabite population would be carried forever. This is not about the individuals – it is a collective rule that no Moabite can become an Israelite.

 In our modern world, we often look to sins of the past and say “we are not like those people any more. We have evolved. We have tolerance and patience now.” Think about the relationship between Jews and Christians for millennia, blacks and whites for centuries in the Americas, and all the politics which were attached to the Confederate Battle Flag in the aftermath of the tragic shooting in mid-June at the AME Church in South Carolina mid-June. Christians are often the biggest supporters of Israel, racism is not allowed in the US as an official policy, and long-time Southerners have had to express that the Confederate flag stands for honor and not racism, at the same time as it is being pulled off of flagpoles at public buildings. Society evolves. Thanks to Sennacherib, even the Moabite could join the Jewish people today.

 And yet I know people who had a fallout and will never ever move past their fight. They will never forgive. They will never pick up the phone and make the call to move on in peace. There is a piece of human nature in this. But it is unhealthy for a society, and especially for a Jewish community, to see these kinds of attitudes in play.

 Rosh Hashana is fast approaching. We need to find a way to put the hurt behind us, and foment peace in our own ranks. Only then will our Teshuvah (repentance) be complete.

May the Prophet's Words Come True

Parshat Balak

by Rabbi Avi Billet

With over half a dozen terror attacks in Israel over the last couple of weeks, as we mark the one-year anniversary of Operation Protective Edge (Tzok Eitan), and as the BDS movement seems to continue to grow it is normal for our people to experience any number of reactions ranging from anger, sadness and mourning, disappointment, remorse, and even, on the opposite spectrum, hope for a brighter future.

Any student of modern history knows that since the fall of the Ottoman Empire after World War I, the people in (first Palestine, now) Israel have had a tenuous existence. Jews moved there to avoid oppression or to fulfill their Zionist dream of returning to Zion. Some were able to live in peace with Arab neighbors, while others had to defend themselves from aggressive Arabs.

            

That economic conditions changed for the better and mortality rates fell in Arab areas neighbored by Jews was a sure sign of the positive impact the early “chalutzim” (pioneers) had in their reinvigorating Palestinian soil and previously uncultivated lands, and of course, the role Israel has had in raising the average Arab lifespan. I just read that there is an obesity problem in Gaza. So much for starving and imprisoning Gazans.

            

This is why Parshat Balak is so fascinating. Nothing that takes place now is new, and the Torah shows parallel symptoms to today in events that took place long ago.

            

The ruler of a desert people was concerned about the Israelite nation. He did not know anything about them, other than that they were looking to reach the Promised Land of Canaan and had wreaked havoc against Sihon and the Emorites (21:21-35), a people who chose to attack the Jews rather than let them cross peacefully through their territory without stopping for food or drink (21:22). [It’s not likely that Sihon chose to fight because Israel would not give the Emorites business at their tourist traps.]

            

Out of concern for what the Israelites “might do” (and this, only if provoked), Balak decided to hire a mercenary to destroy the nation of Israel from a distance, without even hinting at an attempt of diplomacy. Simply put, he could not entertain the notion that this nation had a right to exist. Their history in the land of Canaan, and their descent to Egypt which resulted in hundreds of years of exile, was conveniently forgotten.

            

Only one person in Parshat Balak understood there was more to the unfolding events than met the eye. That person was Bilaam.

            

As much as he personally agreed with Balak, he knew this was a special nation who had God on their side. He knew his powers could only extend as far as God would allow them to extend. As a result, he authored what are arguably the most poetic statements ever said by an outsider about the Jewish people – many of which remain true to this day. Here are some snippets:

            “[

23:7]How can I curse, God has not cursed… It is a nation that will dwell in solitude and not be reckoned by other nations. Who has counted the dust of Jacob… May my soul die the death of the upright, and may my end be like his… [23:20] God has blessed and I shall not contradict it. He perceived no iniquity in Jacob and saw no perversity in Israel. God is with him and the friendship of the King is in him… The people will arise like a lion cub and raise itself like a lion; it will not lie down until it consumes its prey… [24:5] How goodly are your tents Jacob, your dwelling places, Israel, stretching out like brooks, like gardens by a river… water shall flow from his wells and his seed shall be by abundant waters… Those who bless you are blessed and those who curse you are cursed.”

            

A Jew can point at Bilaam’s words with pride. Here is a gentile prophet looking to wreak havoc with his words, his greatest strength, and he can only come up with positive things to say.

            

To take one example, there are different understandings of what “May my soul die the death of the upright, and may my end be like his…” means. Sforno suggests “my end” refers to his children – he wanted his children to be like the Jewish people. Many suggest he saw prophetically that he would be killed in battle and he craved to die as the righteous die: in a bed, painless, without suffering. Some even suggest he craved to die as Aharon did and as Moshe will – with the kiss of God.

            

Save for in the United States and a few random countries around the globe, we are indeed “a nation that dwells in solitude who is not recognized by other nations.”  The United States just passed a law, signed by the President, that makes an anti-BDS approach necessary for foreign countries to engage in trade with the United States. This is a breath of fresh air.

            

Current Israeli news is not new. May the rest of Bilaam’s words about our People continue to come true, speedily in our days.

An Enemy Doomed to Fail

I wrote this several hours before the word come out that the 3 kidnapped teenagers, Naftali Frankel, Eyal Yifrach and Gilad Sha'ar, had been murdered almost immediately after being kidnapped, and that their bodies had been found. The point is still relevant - though I've included a postscript below...

Parshat Balak

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The story of Balak and Bilaam is so fascinating because it is indicative of an obsession that hasn’t waned in the history of Mankind since the time of Avraham our forefather.

                

It is what Hitler called the Jewish Question. It is what Haman referred to as “A single nation spread all around your kingdom.” (Esther 3:8)

                

The thought process goes something like this: "There is a nation that is unlike us, whose very existence is troubling us. Even if they leave us alone. The fact that they are there, that they exist, is enough to make us sick to our stomachs, until the problem is resolved because they are removed from where we are."

                

Even today, the Jewish State – Israel – faces similar sentiments from some of its indigent (or is it indignant?) population, who will not be happy until Israel is Judenrein. Thank God, Israel encounters this challenge from a position of strength, and we continue to support that strength, as we hope and pray that Israel will be around as a Jewish State until the end of time.

                

The Torah tells us that Bilaam told Balak to build 7 mizbeachs (altars) on three different hilltops. The first time he did this was at the beginning of Chapter 23, at which point he brought a bull and a ram as an offering, perhaps one pair of animals for each mizbeach.

                

Bilaam expresses his confidence that God will “Happen upon him” and sure enough, God does. In Bilaam’s pride over what has been done, he explains to God, “I’ve arranged these 7 mizbeachs and I brought the bull and the ram on the mizbeach.” That he leaves Balak out of his depiction of what took place just proves what we’ve known about Bilaam all along. He only thinks of himself and what makes him look good.

                

But does he really need to explain to God what he did – as if God, the all-seeing and all-knowing didn’t see and doesn’t know?

                

Midrash and commentaries explain that from Bilaam’s view there was tremendous depth to this move of creating 7 mizbeachs. Compare my 7 to the Children of Israel’s 1. Seven is far more than one. (Midrash Aggadah) 7 people had built a personal mizbeach – Adam, Kayin, Hevel, Noach, Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov – and Bilaam was coming to outrank them through building seven to counter their seven. (Tanchuma)

                

The arrogance of Bilaam’s thought process neglected to remind him that if indeed he was trying to impress God, he was failing simply because he violated Bal Tosif – the prohibition against adding in one’s mitzvah observance. Now Bilaam could hardly be counted as a mitzvah observer – he was in the midst of violating God’s instructions not to join Balak and try to curse the Children of Israel. But he fancied himself as being connected to God in a special way – as he told Balak’s men several times – “I can’t violate the word of the Lord, my God.” (22:18, 24:13)

                

Rashi points out what might come to destroy Bilaam’s logic as defined until now, because Rashi says Bilaam was coming to counter the 7 mizbeachs built by Avraham (4), Yitzchak (1), and Yaakov (2). If he was indeed coming to counter the personal mizbeachs built before, he is 4 shy – when we count those the Tanchuma mentioned and the multiple mizbeachs of Avraham and Yaakov. His bringing a bull and ram was to outdo Avraham who only brought a ram. Bilaam, as we might surmise, can hardly outdo Avraham (see Avot 5:19)

                

Despite it all, God told Bilaam to return to Balak, and “Koh t’daber” – and say the following. Rabbi Chaim Paltiel points out that the reference with the word “Koh” was to the promise made by God to Avraham, “Koh yihyeh zarakha” – so will your children be. In other words, in the first pronouncement regarding the Israelites that Bilaam was to say in front of Balak, he was to remind him that this venture, irrespective of the person (Bilaam) and the trimmings (the mizbeachs), was doomed to fail. Because of a promise made long ago to Avraham Avinu.

                

There are anti-Semites and there are anti-Semites who mask as being Jew lovers. It is our hope that the philo-Semites of the world will be able to see that whether anti-Semites are open about their feelings or wear a smiling mask that hides their true colors, those who harbor a hatred for the Jewish people and the State of Israel, and who think Jews living in Israel is an obstacle to peace, these beliefs are the real obstacles to peace. And like Bilaam, who got it but didn’t really want to get it, they too should be doomed to fail in their efforts to harm the Jewish people.

post script: The tragedy of the deaths of Eyal, Naftali and Gilad is so devastating because it was so senseless. What was gained? Unity and prayer amongst the Jewish people. What was lost? Three young men. And the lives of their families changed forever. 

The Palestinians or Hamas got nothing out of this - no prisoner exchange, no respect. And even condemnation from Mahmoud Abbas.

הקב"ה ינחם אתכם ואתנו בתוך שאר אבלי ציוון וירושלים

We continue to pray for the day when an equitable solution can come to the State of Israel, when stories like this are only in the past because they no longer take place in a land whose inhabitants work for the betterment of all people who dwell in it.

Bilaam's Lads and Facing Failure

Parshat Balak

by Rabbi Avi Billet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If they were inconsequential, why mention them?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When Enemies Make Real Peace

Update 2018: After writing my DT for 2018, I was "shocked" to discover I had the same solution for peace 6 years earlier! Of course while the conclusion is the same, the angle in the parsha is completely different. I guess Hamas leaders don't read my blog. 🙍

Parshat Vayetze

by Rabbi Avi Billet           

There was no love lost between Yaakov and his father-in-law Lavan. Lavan criticizes Yaakov for having "stolen" his family, and Yaakov responds saying he had been cheated numerous times over a period of 20 years working for Lavan.

            

The most telling comment comes from Lavan who says, "I have it in my power to do you great harm. But your father's God spoke to me last night and said, 'Be very careful not to say anything, good or bad, to Jacob.'" Had God not appeared to him, who knows what he would have done? This is surely one of the proof-texts for the Haggadah's notion that "Lavan bikesh laakor et hakol," Lavan wanted to uproot everything.

            

After their argument at Galed, they reached a resolution. They drew a line exactly where they were, they built a pile of a stones and a monument and then Lavan said, "This mound shall be a witness, and the monument shall be a witness. I am not to go beyond the mound and you are not to go beyond the mound and pillar, with bad intentions." (31:52)

            

After forging the agreement, they sat down and ate together as a declaration of peace – as long as the lines will not be crossed.

            

Many commentaries note that the agreement is for no one to cross the line intending to do harm (Rashi, etc). However, crossing the line to engage in business and commerce or for other good reasons that forge camaraderie of differing peoples is acceptable ("l'tovah u'l'pragmatia" - Pesikta).

            

Ibn Ezra points to their each swearing in the name of the God each worships. A real peace treaty contains divergent opinions about "Who" is backing the peace and "Whom" we are serving through coming to peace terms. But the end result is peace – with each committing to it in the name of their respective objects of worship. Which, in essence, ideally makes the treaty inviolable.

            

Radak points to Lavan's having heard from Yaakov's God directly, which helped him arrive at the conclusion that peace was really the best option.

            

Riva raises a minority view that the agreement was a pact that each would cross the border to help the other in the event that the other is facing "raah" – a bad situation brought on by a different enemy (see Chizkuni). But the more common view maintains that they agree to leave one another alone.

            

Some of the commentaries point out that this treaty (as described by the majority position) was violated by Bilaam. The Zohar (166b) identifies Lavan as the father of Beor (father of Bilaam), the Gemara (Sanhedrin 105a) identifies Bilaam's father as Lavan (Beor having several identities), and the Yalkut Shimoni (Shmot 168) identifies Bilaam as Lavan the Aramean from Pethor. While it is not likely that these texts are meant to be taken literally, it is more than likely that some of the texts describing Lavan and Bilaam are similar (such as receiving prophesy from God in the nighttime, and both being from Aram Naharayim – see Devarim 23:5) to indicate either that Bilaam was the spiritual heir of Lavan, or perhaps even a direct descendant.

            

Daat Zekenim boldly claims that "it is the way of the charlatans and liars to be struck down by the witnesses to their offense." Bilaam's leg was struck by the wall which is identified as the pile of rocks created here. And Bilaam met his demise at the sword (Bamidbar 31:8). The anthology Hadar Zekenim explains (quoting a midrash) that the monument had a sword implanted in it, as a symbol of the 'laying down of the sword' between Lavan and Yaakov. Bilaam was somehow impaled on that sword, as his death is described as having taken place on "the sword" – as in, the one everyone knew about.

            

The message is crystal clear.

            

When Israel vacated Gaza in 2005, a line was drawn in the sand. This is your territory, this is our territory. We are happy to have the border crossed "l'tovah ul'pragmatia" – for good things and for business, but not for "ra'ah" – under the intention to do harm. Israel provides humanitarian aid to Gaza – food, supplies, medicines, and graciously treats Gazans in Israeli hospitals.

            

But when rockets fly, there is no "good": the intention is only to harm. The inviolable treaty supposedly brought on by a land swap has been violated over and over again. Those who foment the hatred are not likely to receive revelations from Yaakov's God not to harm Yaakov. This is why they don't know when to stop, or when to count losses (as Lavan did), and go home to live your own life concerned about how to make your own life better, without trying to make the other person's life miserable.

            

Lavan "bikesh" – he "wanted" to uproot all. But when he couldn't, he let go and lived out his life. Bilaam, on the other hand, couldn't let go of his hatred. And he met his end on the sword that was supposed to symbolize a truce between peoples, exactly on the border his ancestor had vowed never to cross for bad.

            

May God bless the soldiers and people of the Land of Israel. May He watch over them through the tests that lie ahead of them. And may all the spiritual heirs of Bilaam meet the same end he did so the rest of those who recognize and value what a peaceful coexistence can look like are given the opportunity to share a border l'tovah – for the sharing of goodness and peace.

The Deed in the Desert

Parshat Balak

 by Rabbi Avi Billet 

 At the beginning of Chapter 24, the Torah informs us of Bilaam's third attempt to curse the Israelites – which will once again turn into a blessing, in this case the most famous of the three. "When Bilaam realized that God desired to bless Israel, he did not seek out the occult forces ("nechashim") as he had done before. Instead, he set his gaze toward the desert. When Bilaam raised his eyes, and saw Israel dwelling at peace by tribes, God's spirit was on him."

 The word used to describe the occult, Bilaam's source of strength, is "nechashim" – which Ramban and others take to literally mean "snakes." Bilaam had intended to cause snakes to come attack the Israelites. Rashi and others say that "nechashim" refers to Bilaam's unique ability to divine when the occult forces were in his favor. On this last attempt however, he saw his own tricks would not work, so he looked to the desert.

 If he looked to see if the snakes curse would work (Ramban) – looking to the desert would send him to last week's parsha, when a plague of snakes was defeated through the creation of the copper serpent which was visible to all.

 If his divination skills were of no use (Rashi), why was he looking to the desert? Rashi said on the previous phrase (on "nechashim") that Bilaam's intent was to recall their sins, such that his curse could fall upon the remembered sin. And the sin? Rashi says, in one word, what it was – and why Bilaam needed to look to the desert.

 Rashi, in a typical example of the brilliance of his simplicity, says, "K'targumo," which means – look at the explanation of Targum. Targum Onkelos, Targum Yerushalmi and Targum Yonatan all say, "He looked to the desert to remember the (Golden) Calf, and the sin they had committed there."

 The Targum Yonatan goes on, in the second verse of the chapter, to describe what he saw now, as "Israel dwelled at peace by tribes." He quotes the same Midrash Rashi quotes about how the openings of their tents did not face one another, so there was privacy, but he adds that when they dwelled by tribes, they were "in their houses of study."

 With one word, Rashi told us "I might have my own feelings on this, but what you need to see is what Targum says about this." And unlike the many commentators who quote Rashi in full and then either choose to agree, disagree, or explain their own understanding of what Rashi meant, Rashi just passes the source along.

Rashi may have been referring specifically to Onkelos, but I like to think he was giving the credit to all the Targums. Because the lesson we see from the Targum Yonatan goes a step beyond just plain modest living, which is hopefully a universal concept all citizens of the world might appreciate.

 Targum Yonatan says they were engaged in Torah study, which is a level of greatness Bilaam could not comprehend in the slightest, or even attempt to understand or appreciate. And it was the antidote to what Bilaam saw as being the desert-downfall of the people.

 But the lesson is a profound one. Bilaam wanted to attack the Israelites for a sin done by the current generation's parents, 39 years earlier, for which the nation had been punished, had achieved atonement, and from which, as much as possible, they had moved on. Not only were they way past it, but they were currently engaged in Torah study, a sure sign that the sin of the Golden Calf episode was not part of who the people before him were.

 Whether it's a political campaign or just the way we relate to people we know, we cannot define people solely by their past deeds.

 Some people don't change, they're still doing the same thing (just in an older version of their past), their influences from their formative years still resonate strongly in defining who they are. And if they haven't changed, perhaps there is room to allow for treating them based on past impressions, if they are confirmed in the here and now.

 But some people do change, even dramatically, over time. They do allow positive influences to effect change in them, and they work hard to become better, more wholesome people. And to judge them based on their past alone would be completely out of line – we need to see what they are doing in the here and now. Bilaam saw the people in their Batei Midrash – which meant nothing to him – and he still saw the Golden Calf. He judged the children based on their parents, not realizing that the children were not only a different generation, but were their own individuals and communities.

 In today's media-driven age, it is a Herculean task to hide from one's past. Those who try often fail, no thanks to the internet and newspapers. But those who seek to move on from past foibles do best when they face and embrace their past and make it clear that the experiences of yesteryear "are part of what made me who I am. Here is where I learned from a mistake, and here is how I grew from that setback."

 And if, unlike Bilaam, we can learn to see that over 40 years, people might change and become more impressive, and certainly are not carbon copies of their parents (though in many case, being a carbon copy would not be a bad thing!), our overall experience with other people can be more fulfilling and more gratifying as we cross paths with others time and time again, each in our own journey through life.

A Big Fish Story?

A Yom Kippur Message
In our tradition, the High Holidays are viewed as a time period when all of humanity, not just its Jews, are judged for the coming year.

In his introduction to the book of Yonah, the haftarah read at Mincha on Yom Kippur, Rabbi J.H. Hertz writes, "The essential teaching [of Yonah] is that the Gentiles should not be grudged God's love, care and forgiveness. It is this grudging which is so superbly rebuked throughout the Book, and most of all in the final chapter, which must rightly be considered the climax of the story."

Explaining how this book fits naturally into the theme of Yom Kippur, Rabbi Hertz continues to elucidate its important lessons: "It is impossible to run away from God's presence, God takes pity on all His creatures, He is ever willing to accept true repentance."

For us, one ironic aspect of the tale is that there are two significant groups of people who recognize God's role in their lives, and commit to a level of repentance that saves their lives – and neither group consists of any Jews. The former is the group of sailors on the ship that threw Yonah overboard, and the latter are the people of Nineveh.

The lone Jew in the story, the prophet himself, seems to make a mistake at every turn. Even though he eventually follows God's bidding, he still walks out of tale as the recipient of one final rebuke from God.

First he is told to go to Nineveh, but he runs to Tarshish. When everyone on his ship is working like mad to save themselves from the storm, Yonah is dreaming away in lala-land. After he is thrown overboard, he wallows for three days in the belly of a large fish until he realizes "I better do what God told me to do." He gives the message to the Ninevites, gets really depressed over their repentance, and asks God to kill him. God helps him forget his worries through the growth of a shade-giving-kikayon, but the quick demise of the kikayon puts Yonah into even further depression, when he again wants to die, until God points out Yonah's flaw in reasoning as to the merits of sparing Nineveh from destruction.

God's message is simple. Humans and animals are My creatures too – no matter where they come from and where they seem to be heading. There is always room for people to change their ways – they just need to want to change, and to recognize that changing is a long-term process that has to start somewhere.

The classic interpretation is that the fish really was summoned to swallow Yonah. On the other hand, the Daat Mikra commentary on Yonah records a possible interpretation, suggested by Rabbi Yosef Kaspi, that the big fish story was really just a big fish story – that the first two chapters of the book of Yonah were really a prophesy, and that Yonah dreamt of the city of Nineveh, whose Akkadian symbol was a fish in a house (the word "Nin" means "fish", and neveh means "city") – and that Yonah envisioned himself trapped in a fish for three days in lieu of going to Nineveh which was a three day journey (compare 2:1 and 3:3).

I like this latter possibility because it removes the part of the tale that almost paints Yonah as a bumbling prophet, and puts his choices in terms of a subconscious vision that can be filled with mistakes he might have made had he been awake – but are merely reflections of what he "might" have wanted to do, even though, as a prophet, of course he is going to do God's bidding right away.

Perhaps Hertz's comment about not begrudging Gentiles of God's love, which seems somewhat anachronistic, is meant to be a message to our non-Jewish neighbors that on our holiest day, we are thinking of their welfare as well. In the face of doom, the sailors and Ninevites returned to God on their own terms, through the influence of the story's lone Jew.

Since we believe that all of humanity are judged on this day, we want anyone who might be interested in "seeing what the Jews are thinking about today" to know that we believe everyone in the world has the capacity for good and the capability to return to God in whatever way they deem appropriate - with choices that benefit one another and humankind as a whole.

            

I also believe this passage is meant to show one more lesson. There is one time when the Torah declares straight out that "God loves you." It is Devarim 23:6, which reads, "Of course, God did not consent to listen to Bilaam, and God your Lord transformed the curse into a blessing for you, since God your Lord loves you."

            

Peace in the world and peace between neighbors of different faiths can only come about when leaders, or prophets such as Bilaam and Yonah respectively, ultimately do what God asks of them – bless or guide the [perhaps detested] foreigners for whom they may have personally harbored contempt, so "the other" can survive and thrive on this earth, left alone by outsiders who do not know what is best for them. This is not to suggest Yonah hated the people of Nineveh (though it is clear Bilaam hated the Jewish people), but it is clear that he felt telling Nineveh to repent would reflect badly on his own people who were unrepentant.

            

In the end, we are all God's creatures, and He would like us to find a way to live in harmony in this world, no matter how we might personally feel about "others." This prophesy is no "big fish story." It is the tale of all tales "when the wolf and lamb live together in harmony" (Isaiah 11:6). May we all live to see such a prophesy fulfilled speedily in our days.

Sincere Apologies Only, Please

This can also be read in the Jewish Star

Parshat Balak

One of the most difficult things for people to say is “I was wrong.” It is even harder to say, and really mean, “I have sinned.” Our religion is not one with anonymous confessions to a voice behind a wall. Generally, our confessions are to G-d, though there are times when we might admit to humans either that we have wronged them or have sinned to G-d.

There is something cleansing about owning up to human beings and to admitting our errors. Suffering embarrassment or humiliation under the judgmental eyes of our peers helps us come to grips with what we’ve done and it helps us take real steps to improve our behavior and not return to our sinning ways.

Perhaps it is admirable that Bilaam admits to an angel “I have sinned” (22:34), if his intentions were honorable. An overview of Biblical examples of people admitting sins may help us understand Bilaam’s likely motivation.

During both the Barad (hail) and Arbeh (locusts) plagues, Pharoh admits he sinned through not letting the Israelites out of bondage (Shmot 9:27, 10:16). After a decimating loss on the battlefield, Achan admits to Yehoshua that he stole from the consecrated booty (Yehoshua 7:20). After much back and forth with his teacher and mentor the prophet Shmuel, King Saul admits he sinned before the battle with Amalek by listening to the people instead of Shmuel (Shmuel I 15:24, 25, 30). The last time they encounter one another, Saul also admits to David that he sinned by accusing David of treason (Shmuel I 26:21). After the prophet Natan accuses David of sinning with Batsheva and having her husband killed, David quickly admits his sin, without excuses (Shmuel II 12:13). Fearful that he will be executed by David, Shimi ben Gera admits to having wronged the king (Shmuel II 19:21).

On a collective front, sometimes a large group of people sin and admit to their wrongdoings.

In Bamidbar 14:40, after the decree that the Israelites will spend the next 40 years in the desert and not live to see the Promised Land, the nation admits to Moshe that they had sinned when listening to the spies. The Israelites also made a similar admission in last week’s parsha (21:7) when the snakes wreaked havoc and killed a part of the population.

We see similar admission in Shoftim 10:10 and Shmuel I 7:6, 12:10 when the people are confronted with evidence of their errors.

In discussing our protagonist, Bilaam, we can see the positive sides of admitting, “I have sinned.” On the other hand, we can also bring much criticism to the table in assessing Bilaam’s admission of guilt.

We don’t even know why he said he sinned other than his telling the angel, “I didn’t know you were there.” Was his sin that he went to curse the Israelites? That he hit his donkey? That he didn’t stop when the angel appeared (unbeknownst to him) in the path?

There is a running theme in these admissions of guilt. In just about every case, the individual admits to a fault because he has a virtual gun to his head. Pharoh is feeling the pain of plagues, the nation (in the aftermath of the spies) see themselves dying off in the desert or see snakes killing people; Shimi ben Gera fears for his life.

Others admit when the evidence is stacked against them: Achan’s theft is uncovered through a divine lottery. Kings Saul and David are confronted by prophets. King Saul’s admissions are a topic of a larger discussion of his personality, but the biggest critique is that even he did not admit immediately (as King David did when confronted with evidence) that he had erred and sinned against God.

Bilaam clearly fits into the former category — he only admits to a sin (though he does not specify what the sin is) when he notices an angel wielding a sword over his head. It is therefore fitting that he embarrasses himself in telling the donkey “Had I a sword in my hand I’d kill you,” for unlike sincere individuals who admit to sins, Bilaam only apologized when he felt himself in mortal danger.

The really smart and the truly devout can recognize their sins on their own, admit them, correct their behavior, and move on with their lives.

Others say things like “I deeply regret my comments…They do not reflect my heart-felt belief that peace will come to the Middle East…” and expect people to buy their half non-apology. Pharoh was not believed and neither was Bilaam. It did not take long for both of them to die in battles against the Jews (Midrash about Pharoh being saved notwithstanding), when their true beliefs led them headfirst into violent confrontation.

While nearly 90-year-old anti-Semites are not likely to take up arms in battle, we pray that they and their ilk be viewed in the world the same way Pharoh and Bilaam were to the Jewish people: insincere non-apologists who have no future because everyone sees through their false apologetic front.