Pharoah - Yes!; Pharaoh - No

Parshat Shlach

 by Rabbi Avi Billet

 Last weekend earned some off-the-track Jewish attention. On Thursday of last week, Mexican jockey Victor Espinoza made his way to the Chabad Ohel and the grave of the Lubavitcher Rebbe. The spiritual man was looking for some divine intervention to help him win the Triple Crown.

 On Saturday, the “Jewish horse,” the ironically named American Pharoah, owned by the Jewish Egyptian-American Zayat family, running under the aforementioned jockey, did indeed make history, being the first horse to win the coveted horse-racing title in 37 years.

 The CBS report on Espinoza’s visit to the Rebbe noted that it was probably the first time anyone prayed for a pharaoh at the Ohel. But I suppose that the horse’s purposely misspelled name makes it alright.

 Watching Ahmed Zayat explain how God comes first for his family, and hearing of their plans to camp out in Belmont for Shabbos in order to be present for the race, one can’t help but think that while their horse’s name might include a nod to their Egyptian origins, they have no intent to ever return there. Not that this is surprising. Why would anyone who had suffered or been oppressed by Egypt ever want to return there?

 This is precisely the dilemma we are faced with when we read Bamidbar 14:2-4: “The entire community was saying, 'We wish we had died in Egypt! We should have died in this desert! Why is God bringing us to this land to die by the sword? Our wives and children will be captives! It would be best to go back to Egypt!' The people started saying to one another, 'Let's appoint a [new] leader and go back to Egypt.'”

 Having been the victims of slavery and oppression, we wonder how the Israelites could possibly contemplate returning to Egypt, even when faced with what seems to be the dangerous nature of the Canaanites. Even if Canaan seems to be a less than favorable option, having seen that they can survive in the wilderness, wouldn’t no-man’s-land be a suitable alternative over a return to bondage?

 The simplest answer is the most obvious one. They may not have preferred Egypt, but at least they were familiar with Egypt. They knew what to expect.

 And the Chizkuni interprets along these lines when he suggests the Israelites were saying, “When we were in Egypt, when someone died he would leave his belongings to his relatives or neighbors. But now, anything a person “leaves behind” is lost.”

 Think about the negative episode of Korach, in which those swallowed by the ground lost everything, leaving nothing for whatever surviving children they may have had.

 Tzlafchad, who is much more positively portrayed in the Torah, also leaves nothing to his daughters upon his death (a controversial reality until the law is clarified).

 In this light, the desire to return to Egypt is really to return to a life that is relatively routine, when a nation is not living out of suitcases, and when they can settle in a reality that is, at least to their knowledge and experience, normal.

 The Alshikh adds an insight that touches completely on the psyche of the people, due to their awareness of history. The people knew that the promise to Avraham had been for his children to be strangers in a strange land for 400 years. They also knew that from the time Yaakov came down to Egypt until the Exodus, only 210 years had passed. Many may have felt there were 190 years to go, albeit in a different location. And this was the rub, because they knew how their women and children had been treated in Egypt: relatively well. But there was a tremendous amount of uncertainty as to how a Canaanite or Emorite bondage would have translated into mistreatment of the women and children. And so, the return to Egypt was offered as an option because it seemed the better of two evils.

 We are the beneficiaries of 20-20 hindsight. We know that the choices and decisions, as well as the thought processes of the Israelites were out of line. We know they followed the advice of 10 spies instead of the two righteous ones who were faith-driven men preaching what they knew to be correct on account of their relationships with the Divine. We know that if the spies incident had gone differently, the people likely would have been in the land within days or weeks, not 40 years. And we know that had Moshe led them into Canaan, they wouldn’t have experienced Canaan as “an evil” in any way.

 The question is if we would have behaved any differently? How many people are ready to leave a less-than-perfect yet familiar life to branch off into the “eretz lo zarua” – the land of the unknown? Who feels comfortable moving to a new place where the promises that have been offered haven’t been actualized yet? 

While hopefully our options are not even remotely similar to Egyptian bondage or Canaanite bondage, life presents its own set of challenges that sometimes push people to seek personally greener pastures in education, employment, self-employment, what neighborhood, state, or country to live in, and in how to raise a family.

 Some people may not like that the Zayats attended the Belmont race. Perhaps horse racing is not in the spirit of Shabbos. But I think that with the bad press certain elements of the Orthodox world have been getting, the example the Zayats set in stating that God comes first, in wearing their Shabbos clothes to the races and in camping out so they could be in attendance without driving, is a welcome Kiddush Hashem. 

Seeing a Jewish family engage in their greener pasture while respectably honoring their God does not even fall into the equation of the lesser of two evils. Maybe not all of us would have done the same in similar circumstances (honestly, most Americans do not understand the subtleties of Shabbos questions). But the Kiddush Hashem aspect cannot be overlooked. It is a hallmark of the Jewish people that the spies, and people who followed them, overlooked. You honor God first. And then pray that everything else will fall into place.

 And with American Pharoah, it seems everything did.

Israel in Nepal: Understanding What "I Am God" Means

Parshat Acharei Mot

by Rabbi Avi Billet

 Vayikra 18 introduces the Torah’s list of forbidden relationships with the instruction to Moshe to tell the Israelites:

“I am God. Do not follow the ways of Egypt where you lived, and as to the deeds of the land of Canaan to where I am bringing you, do not do [as well]. Do not follow their customs. Follow My laws, and be careful to keep My decrees, for I am God. Keep My decrees and laws, since it is only by keeping them that a person can [truly] live. I am God.” 

 There are many interpretations as to what the “ways of Egypt” and the “ways of Canaan” were, and what moral lesson the Israelites were supposed to take from these instructions. The implication of what it means to “truly live” is perhaps a reference to how the Torah’s guidance is supposed to inform our existence and inject depth and meaning into our lives.

 Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch distinguishes between the references to Egypt and Canaan and the general “do not follow their customs,” as he defines the former as “patterns of social behavior” and the generalization of “their customs” to be instructive regarding “private conduct in the lives of individuals and families.”

 To cite one example in his lengthy exposition, he writes that “only a family life of moral purity can produce a people that will champion justice and righteousness; and only a people that practices loving kindness and justice can produce people who are morally pure.”

 There is no question that he was preaching to the choir. But I don’t believe the Jewish people who live by the Torah’s precepts can claim moral superiority to non-Jews who follow the Noahide laws. The same morality laws apply to all of humanity. People who follow the rules are to be admired; those who do not follow basic moral standards of society are not good role models. 

Some of the commentaries point out that the people who were living in the land merited to have Hevron settled for as long as it was (based on Bamidbar 13:22) because they were so respectful to Abraham and the forefathers in allowing their burial in the Land that was not-yet-theirs. Surely not only the people of Israel are capable of contributing positively to the world.

 There is no question that the moral standards of ancient Egypt and ancient Canaan were very low. The simple interpretation of the verse is to not learn from their corrupt ways. But what about their good ways? Was there no contribution to the world or society that the Jewish people could learn from, and apply to their experience?

 Tosafos (Avodah Zarah 11a) forbids two kinds of non-Jewish influence: 1. Customs and practices connected with non-Jewish, idolatrous, or immoral purposes and beliefs. 2. Non-Jewish customs and practices for which there is no known reasonable and permissible basis.

 Building, giving charity, providing aid, practicing medicine, living a life of loving kindness – if we copy the ways of non-Jews in any of these disciplines, we are blessed for it. And if we live out our creed to be a light unto the nations in these arenas, modeling how to be the best at each of these, how incredible is our lot. 

Watching the lead that Israel is taking in the wake of the devastating earthquake in Nepal, it is shameful that there might be Jews in the world who do not recognize the moral clarity that the State of Israel demonstrates - especially when citizens of the world are suffering and in need of the humanitarian help Israel is at the forefront of providing.

 We saw similar reactions in the wake of the tsunami of 2004, the earthquake in Haiti in 2010, and even near Syria and Gaza alongside military conflicts in the last year alone. Israel sets up field hospitals. At its own expense. And Jews around the world collect money and send humanitarian aid. This is the opposite of the ways of Ancient Egypt and Ancient Canaan, who at most cared only about their own people, and certainly did not celebrate diversity or other cultures.

 I saw a disturbing post on Facebook by a rabbi who is involved in outreach, who often says outlandish things when he makes claims of understanding cause and effect in this world, particularly as to why tragic events unfold. He has claimed to know the reasons for why people suffer horrible illness, why the tragic fire in Brooklyn took 7 lives, why the Holocaust happened, etc. claiming some kind of divine inspiration. He posted before and after photos of a now destroyed Temple in Nepal, saying “All the idols worshiping places in nepal are now destroyed. [sic]” A few hours later he removed it from his Facebook page. [I took a screenshot of it]

 This is not who we are. Maimonides (Laws of Idolatry 7:1) indicates that places of worship outside of Israel are not our business.

 And even in Israel, absent the arrival of the Messiah, places of worship are respected.

 Perhaps if we reread the verses in our parsha, we can understand why this rabbi is wrong, and why the example of the State of Israel is spot-on.

 “I am God. Do not follow the ways of Egypt where you lived,” who did not respect your right to live as Jews, and who did not honor your right to worship your God as you see fit. “And as to the deeds of the land of Canaan to where I am bringing you, do not do [as well].” After all, they do not respect your Divine-given rights to this Land, and will attack you despite your peace efforts.

 “Do not follow their customs.” They can’t see past the bridge of their nose in recognizing that it’s a big world filled with God’s children, and that whatever can be done to advance the brotherhood of humanity is good.

 “Follow My laws, and be careful to keep My decrees, for I am God. Keep My decrees and laws, since it is only by keeping them that a person can [truly] live. I am God.” True Divine Inspiration comes from living a moral existence that embraces that all of humanity are created in the image of God. Some people practice religion in ways that are foreign to us, and their religious practices are not to influence us in any way. 

However, if we can make a Kiddush Hashem, sanctifying God’s name through showing our care for God’s children because we follow the teachings of the One who declared “I am God,” then we are fulfilling our creed that exhorts us to “truly live” – to demonstrate what it means to live a life of meaning, of giving, and of embracing the real world.