Showing posts with label red heifer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label red heifer. Show all posts

Friday, June 29, 2012

A Prayer Lesson from the Parah

Parshat Chukat


by Rabbi Avi Billet
When it comes to discussions about the Parah Adumah (red heifer), many look to its symbolism or try to find a message in the concept of a "chok" – which is typically defined as a "mitzvah without a reason." [Though I wrote about this being a Chok with a Reason for Parshat Parah this year.]  Some focus on the unique quality of how the Parah Adumah mixture was metaher temeim and metameh tehorim (purified those who were impure, and made the pure (the one doing the sprinkling) impure).

 In chassidic annals the general approach to this and other symbols is to find moral teachings and ethical lessons that adherents can adapt to their lifestyles.

With regard to the metameh tehorim (etc) idea, the Baal Shem Tov was asked about the paradox that comes with this mitzvah. "If every mitzvah can teach us something about how to serve God, please explain where parah adumah - which turns a person who is already tahor (pure) to be tameh (impure) - fits in. It seems to be working backwards, bringing someone further from the spiritual purity that is the best state in which to serve God. How does it bring one closer to God?"

 The Baal Shem Tov equated this quality [bringing a reverse status on an individual] with the middot of Gayvah (haughtiness) and Anavah (humility).  For a person who is distant from observance of mitzvot and a commitment to serving God, it is good for him to have a little more 'haughtiness' about his capabilities. Instead of saying, "Who am I that I could even conceive that my prayer has any clout, or that there's any hope for me to turn around from my habits?" - that person should have much more confidence. Education or background is unrelated to one's ability to connect with the Almighty.

 On the other hand, a person who feels very strong in one's commitment and dedication to God could use more than a dose of humility in a personal reminder that "You still haven't 'arrived,' and you always need a lot more work before you reach 'that' level."

Many people who are committed to Tefillah and are regular participants in tefillah – whether with a minyan or on an individual basis – get it. The Tehillim groups get it. Those who even take the "Shir Hamaalot" added to the end of davening (in many shuls) seriously, also get it.

Those who ask a Rabbi or a Rebbe to pray for them, but who do not pray for themselves, do not get it. Those who rely on the "power of others," and do not give credit to their own strengths, their own abilities, their own sincerity, do not get it. One does not need to be an observant Jew to feel close to God, to feel dedicated to God, to have a relationship with God. Or even to "influence" God.


One of the greatest models of prayer in the Bible is Chana (Samuel I, Chapters 1-2). According to the Talmud she was a prophetess – though the prophesy which is attributed to her are her prayers. But she was not a rabbi, and she did not serve anyone else, or pray on anyone's behalf other than for herself. Other than being the mother of the prophet Shmuel, her fame is on account of her prayers, and that's it. 


Some people certainly feel God never hears them or responds to their prayers. And there are some people who absolutely feel that God is always listening and they "know" that their prayers have been heard, received, and "now it's in God's hands." 


The message of the Baal Shem Tov is so important because we need to find relevance to our lives in mitzvot that we cannot practice today. There is a tremendous void in a Jewish existence which does not include the Temple in Jerusalem, which will not be rebuilt until the Messianic Era is upon us. When in practice, the Parah Adumah had a profound significance, and played a very important role in the lives of those wishing to visit the Temple. 


The Baal Shem Tov teaches us that the quality of the Parah Adumah is a model for all. Those who seem to have every right to feel haughty and high and mighty about their connection to God need to be reminded that they have much to work on. 


And those who feel that a connection can not be found with God because they are too far away from Him or have too much getting in the way of such a relationship need to take a long look in the mirror and realize that that relationship is not exclusive to anyone. It is there for the taking for those who are ready to grab it.


The Baal Shem Tov's answer is that the paradox is what makes life interesting. There isn't a black or a white – because when it comes to the Red Heifer ritual, "what's black is white and what's white is black," so to speak. But every person must realize that arriving at the opposite extreme of where one currently finds oneself [ie in that the humble needs to exert more confidence, and the very confident needs to find doses of humility] might be the ticket to a more fulfilling relationship with God.

Friday, March 16, 2012

A "Chok" With a Reason

Parshat Parah

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The calendar this year has us reading "Parshat Parah" (Bamidbar 19, which speaks of the Red Heifer) in the week following our reading of the tale of the Golden Calf (in Ki Tissa - last week's parsha). Is there a connection?

One might say there need not be a connection, simply because Parshat Parah is the next in line of the "4 Parshas" that round out this time of year. As the Aruch Hashulchan puts it (685:1), "[we read Parah] because the burning of the heifer was done close to the month of Nissan in order that people could participate in the Paschal Lamb in purity."

And yet, there is a connection between the two, as pointed out by Rashi in Bamidbar 19:22. There Rashi writes that the "Red Heifer is a parable to the son of a maid who soiled the palace of the king. They say, 'Let his mother come and clean up his mess!' So does the cow come and atone for the calf."

The source Rashi is quoting is the Medrash Tanchuma (8) on the parsha, when Rabbi Aivo explains why of all sacrifices which are generally male animals, the Red Heifer is a female.

The midrash recounts a tale of Rabbi Yochanan Ben Zakkai and a "stranger" who confronted him saying the ritual of the cow makes no sense. Rabbi Yochanan asked him, "What do you when a person has been contained by an evil spirit?" The stranger described a low-key form of an exorcism in which something is put on fire below the person and water is sprinkled to get the evil spirit out.

Rabbi Yochanan was flabbergasted: "Listen to what you are saying!" In other words, each method is equally strange to an outsider. Rabbi Yochanan explained to his students after the non-Jew left, "It is not the dead who brings on tumah, and it is not the heifer who purifies. Rather it is God who made rules and laws and decrees and we are not to disregard or break them."

The Red Heifer is therefore a mitzvah that serves the purpose of relieving us of a status of spiritual impurity, both of which (mitzvah and spiritual purity/impurity) are made up notions created by God for His reasons.

But there's a problem. Both the midrash and, subsequently, Rashi imply that the Red Heifer came about to atone for the sin of the Golden Calf. But it is Rashi himself who says that one of the mitzvot that was taught to the people at Marah, even before the giving of the Torah, and certainly before the Golden Calf incident, was the mitzvah of Parah Adumah (Shmot 15:25)!

How do we reconcile Rashi saying that Parah Adumah was taught before the Torah was given with his suggesting that the Parah Adumah serves as an atonement for the Golden Calf?

Some suggest that there is an editor's mistake in the Rashi, because the Talmud includes "Kibud Av" – honoring one's parents – as one of the commandments discussed in Marah. Perhaps Rashi had written the abbreviation for Kibud Av (Kaf Alef), which was mistaken to read "Peh Alef," and was thus transcribed as "Parah Adumah." [The Kaf and Peh are easily mistakable, particularly in some styles of handwriting.]

Others reject such a notion, arguing that in Marah the people were taught "Chok u'mishpat" – a statute and a judgment – and Parah Adumah is the classic example of a Chok.

And so, our question remains.

As a parent, have you ever decided that a punishment or (as we call them) a "loss of privilege," or maybe just a decision/consequence your children did not like was in order? And then, you found out that something else that you had been unaware of had also taken place and you then included the new item in the "reason" for your choice of action? I certainly have. [And may have been the recipient of such as a child as well!]

Making the Parah Adumah atone for the Golden Calf is called "poetry in motion," because it fits so nicely into the narrative of what transpired after Parah Adumah was first taught to the people.

More importantly, at this time of year leading into Pesach, perhaps the lesson of Parah Adumah can be one of a re-commitment to the Torah "just because." The Rabbi Yochanan Ben Zakkai tale reminds us that we don't need to be such geniuses. Not everything we see or do has to make complete sense. There are some things about the Torah and about Judaism that are hard to explain rationally, and may even leave us with questions. Do we therefore throw all of Judaism under the bus because of one question?

I have met too many people who have found one contradiction, or one thing that bothers them so much that all of Judaism is therefore rejected. This is an unfortunate consequence of intellectual dishonesty, frustration, or apathetic curiosity. "Seek and ye shall find" is not meant to be a throwaway line. Judaism has many approaches and answers to different questions.

The Parah Adumah teaches us that if at first something is taught "just because," eventually we will find that its purpose actually makes a whole lot of sense when it comes to atone for a major faux pas that almost destroyed our nation.

We seek reasons to help ourselves appreciate our religion better. And if the reasons we find don't work for us, our job is to keep seeking.

And we shall find!