The "Holy" Aspect of Jewish Peoplehood

Parshat Nitzavim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The biggest news story of the week (other than the Iran deal) was about a clerk in Kentucky who has a fundamentalist viewpoint on understanding the Bible.

 Regardless of one’s view of the story, some of the reaction I have seen in social media includes a clip from the West Wing, in which Martin Sheen’s character asks a similar-minded (to the Kentucky clerk) person a series of questions asking if certain fundamentalist views of stoning and putting to death from the Bible ought to also be listened to since “they’re in the Bible.”

 Watching this narrative play out, I am grateful not only that the Torah was given to the Jewish people – and not to people who understand it on its surface level – but that we also have an oral tradition that helps us understand the parts of the Torah that are difficult to understand. We know that the death penalty, for example, was hardly ever carried out because of our abhorrence of violence, as well as all the technicalities that otherwise prevent a death sentence being issued.

 We know that the Torah’s rules were given to the Jewish people, and with the exception of the Noahide laws, they are not binding on people of other faiths.

 People of faiths that do not observe Rosh Hashana this Sunday night (Bamidbar 29:1) don’t have to follow the rules of kosher eating, or Sabbath, or any other laws that were established in God’s Torah for the children of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov.

 And this point is established very clearly in the fourth verse of our parsha, when Moshe reminds the people that they are being brought into the covenant, “He is establishing you as His nation, so that He will be a God to you, just as He promised you, and as He swore to your ancestors, Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov.”

 A simple question could be asked. Why is this wonderful promise of a covenant with God prefaced by the terrible rebuke of chapter 28? Why is there so much warning and punishment facing this nation, especially if God loved the forefathers and wants their descendants to be His special nation?

 In the Or HaChaim’s view, the answer is really quite simple. If you know the repercussions of your deeds, and how devastating they can be, you’ll have no interest in rebelling against His Godliness. You will always maintain the connection with Him.

 Or HaChaim offers a second reason as well. There is a reason that God wants this nation. Because at this point, under Moshe’s leadership, the nation is identified as an “Am Kadosh,” a holy nation. This nation, the descendants of God’s beloved Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, have the capacity to achieve a holiness that is unmatched in God’s eyes, by any other nation.

 Using the language Yosef uses to explain to his brothers why his being sold to Egypt was actually good, Or HaChaim suggests that the rebuke’s strong language is merely to affirm for Israel that they are God’s nation. Without the Rebuke, one day a person will commit a mild infraction and the next day he’ll commit a severe one, and each slip will take Israelites away from being the “Adat HaKedusha” – the community of Holiness. 

The message Or HaChaim concludes with is that we must look out for one another to create a communal mind that prevents sinning. This is what helps us create a nation of destiny. And this, he explains, is only for our own good, to help us survive as a people.

 It is a shame that too often what unites us is tragedy and suffering. How many people were numbed by the terrible car crash in the Catskills on Monday, that took the lives of three wonderful people?

 We have our Torah, we learn it, we study it, we connect with it in the deepest of ways. And we must connect with our fellow religionists, not only in times of tragedy, but also in good times, when the spirit all around is upbeat.

 We all have different views of the world, and there are times when we disagree. But the lesson we can take at this time of year is that we have so much more in common than not. And our commonality begins with Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, and ends in the place we all agree to tap into our shared experiences as their descendants.

 The more united we are, the more holiness we can achieve. It is our learning and our dedication to what we do that helps us become this holy nation, through proper understanding of the Torah and through the actions that define who we are.

To Sell, or to Give? Increasing Holiness When Unloading 'Neveilah'

Parshat Re'eh

by Rabbi Avi Billet

“Don’t eat ‘neveilah’ (meat from the carcass of an animal that dies a natural death) – give it to the ‘ger’ who lives in your gates, and he shall eat it. Or sell it to the ‘stranger.’ For you are a holy nation to the Lord your God. Don’t cook kid in its mother’s milk.” (Devarim 14:21)

 The word ‘ger’ in this sentence clearly does not refer to the person who converts to Judaism, because the convert is a Jew who is obligated in all the mitzvot of the Torah. This is why the Midrash Aggadah (quoted by Rashi) identifies the ‘ger’ as a ‘ger toshav,’ one who rejects idolatry, embraces Jewish sovereignty, lives with the Jewish people, but does not join the Jewish people through what we would call conversion. The stranger, notes the Ibn Ezra, does not live with the Jewish people.

 It is understandable that meat that is forbidden will be given away or sold. But why does the Torah say to give it to the ger toshav, but sell it to the stranger? Why can’t the owner earn a profit no matter where his ‘neveilah’ goes? Why can’t he give it to the stranger? These questions are addressed in the Talmud Chullin (114b), where Rabbi Meir suggests that indeed a person can go either route with either kind of person, giving or selling to whomever one pleases.

 And yet the Torah’s language remains specific, and it warrants an explanation. In that Talmudic passage, Rabbi Meir further suggests that the Torah is teaching us a priority. We should be giving the ‘ger’ before we sell to the ‘stranger.’ While Rabbi Yehuda argues saying such an order of priority is obvious, one wonders how obvious it really is. Wouldn’t turning a profit, and the concept of parnasah (earning a living), be more obvious than giving things away - especially when we're not talking about an item that can be given as tzedakah, as a fellow Jew has no need or purpose for this meat?

 We do have a mitzvah to ‘love the ger.’ (Devarim 10:19) But there is confusion as to which type of ‘ger’ that sentiment refers to. Is it the colloquial ‘ger’ – one who has become a full Jew? Or does it refer to the ‘ger toshav?’

 This is why a different understanding is imperative in helping us understand why the Torah distinguishes between giving and selling, and between the ‘ger toshav’ and the ‘stranger.’ The Alshikh focuses on the Kedusha (holiness) aspect that is drawn out in the verse. What is “kedusha?” Kedusha does not come from any superiority inherent in any individual. All people are the same – they are all descendants of Adam and Noach. What raises a person’s kedusha level is that “I serve God, while the nations of the world serve other gods.” 

The same holds true, Alshikh continues, for the neveilah itself. A living cow has the potential to produce Kosher meat, if it is slaughtered properly. But if something happens to it, such as if it dies naturally, its meat is neveilah and forbidden to the kosher consumer.

 The same is true for the “stranger.” He too is a descendant of Noach, and therefore a potential contributor to the godliness of the global family of humanity. But something “happened” to him, in that he clings to idolatry, which allows him to partake of neveilah.

 But the ‘ger toshav’ is different than the ‘stranger’ because he has rejected idolatry, and should therefore not be eating neveilah. However, since he nonetheless eats neveilah, we are commanded to give it to him for free, because it’s not the idolatry distinction that distinguishes the ‘stranger’ from the ‘ger toshav,’ but the question of kedushah. And His holiness factor, in turn, is what informs whether he can be gifted food prohibited to Jews, or whether he needs to pay for it.

 In a sense, we have redefined kedusha, and what it means to be holy. For the Jewish people, our kedusha is enhanced by our closeness to God, and through doing deeds that enhance our connection to God. For people who are not Jewish, it is not mitzvot which contribute to their holiness, but their rejection of that which takes away from God’s holiness with respect to humanity.

 It becomes our duty to embrace those that reject any notion of idolatry, or any notion of worship that is distinct from the worship of God. As should we support , in any way we can, anyone who promulgates a Godly existence, in a manner similar to how we embrace our God. And if supporting such efforts with free meat that is forbidden to us is an acceptable form of appreciation to them, the Torah makes it our priority to share such commerce, before we sell it to someone else for a profit.

 This is how holiness is spread in the world.

Priestly Holiness and its Strange Ingredients

Parshat Emor

by Rabbi Avi Billet

At the beginning of Parshat Emor, Moshe is instructed to inform the Kohanim a few important rules for them to follow in order to maintain their “taharah” – their purity that allows them to serve the general Jewish society’s spiritual needs.

                

They may not come in contact or within a certain distance of a corpse, unless it is one of his close relatives – mother, father, son, daughter, brother, and never-married sister. The status of his wife makes for an interesting halakhic discussion (based on how 21:4 is to be understood), but certainly in the absence of a Temple a Kohen will typically participate in such a funeral.