Showing posts with label snakes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snakes. Show all posts

Friday, June 26, 2015

A Quick Punishment Leads Directly to Teshuvah

Parshat Chukat

by Rabbi Avi Billet

Bamidbar 21:5-8 contains what we might consider to be the quickest sin, punishment, retribution, and repentant turnaround in all of the Torah.
               
“The people spoke out against God and Moses, 'Why did you take us out of Egypt to die in the desert? There is no bread and no water! We are getting disgusted with this wasteless/ insubstantial food.' God sent poisonous snakes against the people, and when they began biting the people, a number of Israelites died. The people came to Moses and said, 'We have sinned by speaking against God and you. Pray to God, and have Him take the snakes away from us.'”
                
God then gives Moshe the solution for those who have been bitten: a copper snake raised on a pole (one international symbol for pharmacy), for people to gaze upon in order to be healed (this is a simplistic understanding of how the snake “worked”).
                
Chasam Sofer asks, why now, after 40 years in the wilderness, are the people complaining about the Manna? To further his question, we can wonder how the new generation might be expressing the sentiment that the manna doesn’t produce waste! If most of them were born, and they all grew up in the wilderness, then this is the only reality they know! How could they complain that the manna is just absorbed in the body, if they’ve never experienced waste-producing food?
                
He suggests that once they encountered other nations, and engaged with them in trade, they discovered the foods the Edomites (and others) ate, and had their first major exposure to the digestive system. However, the wheat they may have eaten did not produce waste, so they felt the Manna had destroyed their bodies.
                
Rabbenu Bachaye notes that the whole purpose of the Manna while they were traveling was to train them to have trust and faith in God. The moment they spoke falsehoods about God, they were punished with snakes, the symbol of speaking falsehoods (think Garden of Eden). [He quotes the Medrash Tanchuma that the punishment of snakes is measure for measure in a different way: the snake who eats anything and it all tastes the same to him will come and punish those who complain about eating the one thing that has many possible flavors.]
                
Rabbi Abraham Sabba (Tzror Hamor) suggests that their immediate response to the snakes of “We have sinned” brought immediate atonement for their sin. That God told Moshe to create a “Saraph” (5:8), even though Moshe made a “Nachash” (5:9) (both words seem to refer to a snake image) indicates that God’s intent was for the copper snake to serve as a healer for their ailments of the soul (refuat ha’nefesh).
                
No matter what the copper snake was meant to heal, and no matter the reason for the complaints at this time, the fact remains that the whole ordeal seems to begin and end very quickly. Even though the complaint about the Manna is understandable to us in 20/20 hindsight, the complaint about water makes no sense! Didn’t they see what just happened a chapter ago when they complained about water?
                
Could it be that they’re complaining about the new reality which will soon be upon them, that they’re going to have to shlep water and actually work hard to get the food they need once the Manna runs out and the well runs dry?
                
It’s hard to know, as the Torah doesn’t give us much background to the complaining.
                
But one thing is clear. When the guilty are punished with a swift retribution from God, without conversations or confrontations, without raised voices and ire between sides, an understanding is quickly reached.
                
Note how the Torah does not tell us that their food situation or water situation changed or improved. The tale concludes with the people owning up to their sin and with Moshe building the copper snake to help heal those who were bitten.
                
Then they move on to their next destination.
                
While I am not suggesting an overhaul of the justice system in this country (though with DNA testing, we often hear stories of innocent people sitting on death row for years), there are times – such as in the recent horrific shooting in the Charleston, S.C church, as well as other mass shootings in the country – where the perpetrator is known, there are multiple witnesses, and the blood is on his hands, where the swift punishment would drive the message home. A speedy trial without lengthy deliberations, as necessary.
                
It worked in the Torah! For the first time, the people immediately admit their guilt, and they don’t even get what they want!

                
Alas, God is the only One Who can be so sure. Until such a time when He chooses to punish accordingly again, we can marvel at how quickly the lesson is learned, and hope that in our own human way we can learn from His incredible example. 

Friday, July 6, 2012

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.