An outsider's (perhaps naive) commentary on some of the activism going on in Israel (and perhaps in the US as well). I have purposely chosen not to take a specific stand for either side here because the ultimate lesson the dvar Torah brings out is the point upon which I am focusing. If you'd like to have the dialogue, feel free to comment (or email me!), and we can have a conversation. For a slightly different perspective, see this thought quoted in the name of HaRav Yehuda Amital, Z"L, the founding Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Har Etzion
Parshat B'haalotkha
by Rabbi Avi Billet
In the first Nissan month following the Exodus, the
Torah tells us that the Israelites observed Passover, bringing the Korban
Pesach (Paschal lamb offering) at its proper time. (Chapter 9)
The tale that follows is of a group of people, who
were unable to participate in the Korban Pesach on account of their being in a
state of "tumah" (a spiritual state of impurity).
"But why should we lose out and not be able to present God's offering at the right time, along
with the other Israelites?" they ask.
"Wait here," Moshe replied. "I will hear what orders God gives regarding your case."
He is told, "Speak to the Israelites, saying: If any person is tameh (ritually impure) from
contact with the dead, or is on a distant journey, whether among you [now] or
in future generations, he shall still have the opportunity to prepare God's
Passover offering…
He shall prepare it on the afternoon of the 14th
of the second month and shall eat it with matzahs and
bitter herbs." (9:7-14) This is the
Torah's account of the mitzvah of "Pesach Sheni" – the makeup date
for missing the Korban Pesach.
Rashi says, "These impure (tameh) people were
privileged to have this mitzvah (of Pesach Sheni) be attributed to their
question, as opposed to coming directly from Moshe, because we bring about
something which is worthy through someone who is worthy." Three of the
opinions as to their identity are those who carried Yosef's bones, Mishael andEltzafan – who took Nadav and Avihu out of the Mishkan after their tragic end,
or people who buried others who had no family.
All of these possibilities are people who are very worthy to perform the
mitzvah were it not for the "tumah" factor holding them back.
In his exploration of Rashi's commentary, Rabbi Eliyahu Mizrachi notes that those who were tameh were tameh that day, but were to
become tahor (pure) that evening. As such, they would have been fit and could
have partaken of the Korban Pesach on time – not in the day of the 14th of Nissan, but in the evening of the 15th, during their
"Seder," when the Paschal Lamb "is to be eaten and not leftover
until morning."
Were their question not asked "that day" (9:6) when there was still time, we would be able to wonder who would have the
audacity to suggest that despite missing the opportunity to do the mitzvah in
its proper time, they should have a do-over! There is a halakhic principle that
once a specific time for a mitzvah has passed (particularly a korban) – the
opportunity is lost (avar zmano batel korbano).
Their circumstance was unique, their position, as Rashi
notes, one of tremendous worthiness, and their opportunity, to have a
previously undisclosed mitzvah be taught through their story, makes their
situation most noteworthy.
Mizrachi quotes the Raavad who suggests they had actually tried to bring the Korban Pesach, before being sprinkled with the
requisite blood (presumably of the Parah Adumah – Red Heifer), and immersing in
water to complete their purification process, and the offering was rejected. Mizrachi wonders, according to this opinion, why they were not instructed to
undergo the purifying process followed by an additional attempt at bringing the
Korban Pesach? Beyond saying such a notion was not in the cards, since they
were instructed to bring the Korban Pesach on Pesach Sheni (14 Iyar) one month
in the future, he does not answer this question.
The people in this
circumstance were creating history. And with the authentic leadership of Moshe
and the connection to the Divine he provided, their question was not out of
place. Their timeliness in asking – on the day they should have been bringing
the Korban, along with the suggestion that they did actually bring one only to
have it rejected, together indicate a Divine stamp of approval to their
efforts. They merited to have a mitzvah taught in their story!
Can the same always be
said about those who are opportunists, who pick a time to say "Why should
we lose out?" in order to stoke coals and create controversy?
There is a difference
between taking up a cause for social justice and taking up a cause in the name
of religion. True social justice cases, in which people are either not participating
in society or are being selectively discriminated against in society, deserve a
public hearing and a demand for equal rights.
But taking up a cause
in the name of religion requires a very different attitude. Religion is
ancient, has traditions, values, and a way which has been for centuries. And
those looking to represent it must be humble, and must come across as standing
on the shoulders of precedent.
Sincerity is relative.
The people who were looking to perform the Korban Pesach, who were held back by
a technicality, were sincere. They got their makeup date, which was not a new
idea, according to Mizrachi, but was only taught at this time because of their
sincerity.
What really drives the
people behind both sides of the latest demonstrations at the Kotel? What drives
those involved on both sides of drafting the Charedim into the Israeli army?
While there is a time
and place for everything, the reverse is not true: not everything belongs in
every place at all times.
The issues are
complicated, emotions run high, some people are sincere, while some are driven
by an agenda that is far less than sincere. A Divine response would be most
helpful in achieving peaceful solutions. But without it, humility is the key
ingredient that could keep everyone grounded and help reach appropriate
compromises.
Showing posts with label sincerity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sincerity. Show all posts
Friday, May 24, 2013
Friday, June 25, 2010
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)