A Gathering To Unite - If Only...

Parshat Vayelekh

by Rabbi Avi Billet

 Shabbos Shuva is named for the first word in the Haftorah, but it also refers to the fact that the Shabbos falls between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, at a time when our people are experiencing the “Aseret Y’mei Teshuvah” – the Ten Days Of Repentance.

 How do we repent? What needs to be done. I suppose the classic answers have been talked about – not saying Lashon hora, treating each other nicely, and of course, making amends with God over our misdeeds. 

Devarim 31:10-13 contains what the Sefer Hachinukh lists as commandment number 612, the mitzvah of “Hak’hel.” This commandment is fulfilled every seven years at the end of a shmittah year, as all of the Jewish people gather in Jerusalem during the holiday of Sukkot to hear portions of the Torah read aloud. While this Biblical commandment is time dependent, the category from which women are generally exempt from obligation, this is one of the exceptions to the rule (the others are Shabbat and eating matzah on Pesach – see Kiddushin 34a-b) (there are many time-dependent Rabbinic commandments to which women are bound). 

Collectively the entire nation would hear the king read different portions, altogether over half, of the book of Devarim.

 Surely this spectacle was memorable, with the king at the center and trumpets sounding. The Torah was heralded between the king and the high priest and the members of the “Knesset” (not Israel’s modern day parliament), and the king would recite seven blessings praising God, the Jewish people, and the relationship they shared, before he actually read the Torah.

 A once in seven years experience is certainly a source of inspiration. Ask anyone who has been to the Siyum Hashas. But even such inspiration often falls short of lasting through to the next gathering of the masses, if it even lasts one month.

 Hak’hel was never the same as the tri-annual “aliyah l’regel” of the holidays. Not everyone went every holiday, and not everyone could afford to make the trip so often. But once every seven years gives people enough time to budget and to plan, to make sure they are there to fulfill this great mitzvah.

 How could the event of Hak’hel serve as the inspiration it is meant to be if it only takes place once every seven years?

 It would seem every seven years Jews are meant to have a unifying moment. We go to our homes, to our communities, to our own lives and we tend to lose sight of the greater picture of the Jewish community, what we collectively share and value and do to enhance our lives. Hak’hel serves as a reminder for this.

 The hak’hel moment is meant to inspire other experiences, to inspire a lifestyle, to inspire a regimen of continued education and learning that reflects all the spiritual grandeur invoked in the heartfelt reading of the Jewish king on that day in the Beit Hamikdash on the holiday of Sukkot. Hak’hel should be the climax, not the initiation. We should be living an ongoing life of inspiration which reaches its pinnacle moment when we gather after an extended period of separation.

 This year has its own rules for the use of Etrogim that come out of Israel, owing to the completion of the recent Shmittah (Sabbatical) year. Hakhel’s seven year cycle was related to Shmittah, so we have a deeper connection than usual this year to this special mitzvah.

 But in the absence of the Beit Hamikdash, we do not experience Hak’hel. So what can it mean for us today?

 The answer is quite simple. Hak’hel is a gathering most symbolic of the unity of the Jewish people. It is a time when the Jewish people were reminded that “there is more that unites you than divides you.”

 This message is particularly poignant at this moment in history. I have had a number of political debates with religious Jews over the Iran deal. It seems to be a done deal, and we hope for the best.

 But I have a very difficult time understanding how Jews who advance all the talking points of the proponents of the deal think they know what’s best for Israel’s security, and are critical of Israel’s prime minister for looking out for the security needs of his country, in a very hostile and dysfunctional Middle East.

 Even US politicians who support the deal say Iran can’t be trusted. And Israel is much closer to Iran geographically than the United States is to Iran.

 I don’t know if sins in political moves require teshuva. And truth be told, it is hard to make a judgment call of who is right or wrong, especially when people have very strong opinions that will not be swayed.

 But the Jewish people need to be united, because, as the old saying goes, “United we stand” while “divided” – as we surely have been over these political dealings – “we fall.”

 If only we could create a real hak-hel, we’d see how much we have in common. If only.

The Middle Road

Parshat Shoftim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

In describing the formula for how we turn to our teachers for guidance and for psak (rabbinic decisions in Jewish law), the Torah enjoins us to follow the rulings that are handed to us. As many a rabbi will tell you in conversation, "Are we just having a discussion? Or are you asking me what to do? Because if you are asking a 'shaylah,' you have to follow what I tell you. Whereas if we are just having a conversation, you will go home and decide for yourself what is the best avenue to pursue in this matter."

The Torah says "Based on the Torah which they show you and the ruling they will tell you to follow, do not veer from what they tell you right or left." (Devarim 17:11)

This enigmatic passage is the base for some discussion in the Midrash, and much more amongst commentators.

Rashi, based on Shir HaShirim Raba and the Pesikta, explains quite literally that you must listen when they tell you right is left and left is right, and certainly when they tell you right is right and left is left. Ramban elaborates, saying that you might think they are totally wrong, but if they have the halakhic insight you do not possess, they must be listened to [presumably in matters of halakha – rather than for every question under the sun].

The Riva (Yitzchak ben Avraham, a Tosafist) asks an obvious question. What if they are totally out to lunch? What if they are saying that something that is forbidden is permitted, that something which is tameh is really tahor? He answers his own question, saying that in such a case it would be wrong to listen to them. The examples he brings are more along the lines of when there are two legitimate opinions and the scholar sides with an approach which might be objectionable, but is valid. Obviously declaring a horse to be a tahor animal would not fit into such a rubric (my example). But saying that we should not blow shofar on Rosh Hashanah that falls on shabbos is a decree which is valid (Riva's example).

I would like to offer a different approach, equally literal, yet considerably more homiletical, based on the well-known suggestion of Rambam (Maimonides) at the beginning of Hilkhot De'ot – the laws of Worldliness.

When the verse says "Do not veer from what they tell you right or left," perhaps they mean "do not veer too much, neither to the right nor to the left." In other words: don't be an extremist, be a moderate. Take a stand, but don't go crazy.

The Rambam famously wrote, "The proper path is the middle road from every choice a person has in front of him. It is equidistant from the two extremes, and is not 'almost' one or the other. The early scholars commanded us to follow this road of moderation in order to live a more fulfilling existence. For example, don't be easy to anger, but also don't be a stiff with no emotions. Find a middle road. Save anger for a really big deal, so it will [hopefully] not come up again. Otherwise be easygoing…"

The key is moderation, and avoidance of extremism.

In our times, this is very easily understood, because the image the Torah uses to describe the directions in which a person can turn (right or left) are the actual terms used to describe the place on the religious or philosophical (and even political) scale on which a person's approach to life might lie.

The Torah's instruction, therefore, is not to lean too far to the right, or too far to the left, but to find a more centrist viewpoint that is far more moderate and far less extreme.

This is a highly significant message for all of us to take home. Too often, people rush to a rabbi for guidance on every matter under the sun. Too often, people on one extreme try to "outfrum" themselves (separate yichud rooms at a wedding comes to mind). At the same time, people on the other extreme tend to push the envelope as far as they can, to see how far they can take certain practices before being called on them and being subsequently persuaded that "this far is OK, but this far is crossing the line."

We should not be looking to churn out clones and carbon copies. Every person is created in the image of God, is a unique individual, and should therefore make a unique mark in the world.

But the underlying philosophy that should work for everyone, is that of Maimonides. While we will not agree on everything, we work hard to change our approach to life and Judaism. There need not be a negative attitude towards others, trying to either get others' goat or make their lives difficult. Nor should we push the envelope to such a degree that will spark namecalling, lashon hara, animosity, or worst of all, hatred.

Taking the road less traveled may make all the difference to Robert Frost. But taking the middle road – not too much to the right and not too much to the left – is what makes all the difference in creating a wholesome Jewish experience.

A Lone Voice - Shlach Sermon 2010

See ">this video

It is amazing to watch how a young man, who does nothing other than wear an IDF t-shirt and carry two flags, can incite a crowd to lose their reason (if they had any). Most normal people would ignore a single "counterprotestor." And he wasn't even loud, and didn't say anything until the news people asked him questions.

I don't like to talk politics - there are people smarter, more knowledgeable and worldly than I who can discuss these things. In the context of a sermon (or even this blog), politics, to my mind, has no place.

But sometimes, something happens. Sometimes a few people, sent by a greater force, are instructed to find out information. To find out if their target is safe or not, good to go or not, peaceable or not, serving man honorably or not, looking to destroy outsiders or not, looking to bring people under their umbrella of peace or not.

And the result of their actions, their report, can have upheavals that impact the coming decades. After this particular action, no one knows what the future holds. We may not even see the complete unfolding of these events in our lifetimes.

It’s a frightening thought to consider. But as you may have imagined, the events of this week, with the so called Flotilla, are not new events. Kohelet rightly said there is nothing new under the sun. And in what way do the events of Sunday and Monday differ from the story of the spies that we read this morning?

The description I mentioned a moment ago can fit for both stories.

The differences between then and now are in how small our world is, how quickly mass media and the information superhighway get news around the world, and in that Moshe’s connection with God allowed the people to learn, right away, what the outcome of the spies incident would be. In their case, forty years in the wilderness for the forty days they spent spying, and then reporting critically of the land.

Do not misunderstand and think I am judging Israel, and the IDF, for the events that transpired. Piloting an uncleared boat into the military zone of a nation with major security concerns surrounding its borders, which is essentially in a never-ending war against their enemies, is at least a violation of international law, and at most an act of war.

Hanging a banner of “Peace activists” is meaningless when you carry a weapon in your back pocket that you will use in an instant. Gandhi was a peace activist. Martin Luther King Jr said brotherhood comes about when people are willing to “work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.” (towards the end, two paragraphs before "my Country Tis of Thee") His form of going to jail was as a result of civil disobedience. Love them or hate them, they caused change through not physically attacking their adversaries.

Standing up for freedom is a completely different outlook than bashing investigating coast guard officers over the head with a metal bar.

In his address in Gettysburg, President Abraham Lincoln said, “The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here.” We know, of course, that he was wrong, but I use the same line about what I say and about what most rabbis say as well on Shabbos morning. Which is why I don’t like to talk about politics.

Politics gets some people riled up, especially when they disagree with someone who they think is so blind to the reality and unaware of the facts. Everyone picks the facts that they want, and spins the “facts” the way they want to see them or present them.

What makes my opinion any better than your opinion?

The only thing that I’ll say is this – and these words are inspired by one of the most clearheaded and brilliant journalists on our side of the aisle, Caroline Glick.

We are living in a frightening time. Between a President who gives every indication that Iran is more his friend than is Israel, and a “United Nations” who claims to be the majority of the opinion of the world when the only time they seem to be united is for one kind of decision, the kind that bashes Israel, the Jewish people have much to be concerned about.

If we aren’t writing to or calling our politicians to express our fear that Israel has lost the support of its greatest ally, the United States, and that the United States continues to estrange itself from its greatest ally, Israel, we must change our attitudes.

The Talmud records in many places שתיקה כהודאה (Yevamos 87b-88a, Baba Metzia 37b), that when one is silent, one gives and indication that one agrees with what is going on and what has been said.

While I will never say that “x happens or happened because of y” I do think it is safe to say that if we do not take action, do not make a loud noise, do not express our disappointment in the current administration’s view of Israel, do not vote out of office people who do not subscribe to the interests that best suit our needs as a people, Israel as we know it will, in the perhaps not-so-distant future, cease to exist. The freedoms we enjoy in this country will come under attack.

It won’t be the fault of a flotilla incident. Much like the spies, spying was not the problem. The problem was the aftermath – the bad reporting – Israel has the worst notion of public relations. They do more harm than good to themselves every time they “explain” themselves. For example, if instead of talking about humanitarian aid they could say “Who sent this ship in the first place? Who is the provocateur? Who defied international law? Who is responsible for our needing to protect our borders and our citizens?” their PR appeal would come across very differently.

No, it was not about what took place on the boat. The problem will continue to be in how Jews and nations react to the story. If all people can see is critique, and no one can see Israel’s side, how they were provoked, how they had no chance to look good because the “suicidal activists” didn’t care if they lived or died, it would be understood that the fight is not a simple one. In addition to whatever else people scream about, the longest hatred, what we call anti-Semitism, is what is behind all of the protests, resolutions, and articles slamming the Jewish State.

In their eyes, the world would be a better place were all Jews, particularly those in Israel, no longer on this earth.

The Jews in the time of Moshe followed the masses who criticized the land of Israel. As a result, they never got to see the land that had been promised.

Only two people, two lone voices, said “This is not right. It is a good land.”

And those two individuals, Yehoshua and Kalev, entered the Promised Land. They got to see what life would be like after those 40 years. They outlived their peers and saw the conclusion of the first redemption. And lived to see what the Promised Land not only looked like, but what it felt like to live in it.

Was there ever true peace in their days? During the tenure of certain leaders there was, before more upheaval, more unrest and more fighting.

What goes around comes around. The land of Israel has never been, in all its history, a land that was forgotten and not fought over. Perhaps now, only because the Jews control it, is it the center of the political hotbed of a climate that exists in the region. But the story is not yet over.

We do not have the luxury of knowing when the redemption will come. Perhaps we don’t know what it will look like.

But if we do nothing to stop those who will say Israel does not deserve to live in peace or to experience the ultimate redemption, what makes us think we will ever see that peace or that final redemption?