Showing posts with label humility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humility. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Unanimous Disapproval of Bad Behavior

It is a shame that these events are being politicized in Israel. The Israeli Left is blaming the Israeli Right for violence perpetrated by individuals. While both the Left AND the Right have condemned these acts of violence. Perhaps instead of pointing fingers, we can all look to how to respond in mourning to these tragedies, instead of blaming people who had nothing to do with the acts of violence. 

Parshat Eikev 

 by Rabbi Avi Billet 

 Last week, from Tisha B’Av through Tu B’Av (7/26 – 7/31), was loaded with a particularly bizarre set of circumstances in Israel. From the vandalism on a Conservative (Masorti) synagogue in Modiin on Tisha B’Av, to the inexcusable stabbings at the gay pride parade – which led to a death of Shira Banki as reported on Sunday of this week, to the arson attack on the Dawabsheh family home in Duma last Friday in which an 18-month old toddler died, one wonders what happened to the idea of being a light unto the nations.

 Of course, the media is all over these stories, as they should be, for each one, in its own way, is a heinous crime. As of this writing, the perpetrators of the vandalism and the arson had not been caught, and the speculation of both sets of attackers being Jews is circumstantial. But as most are assuming that the perpetrators in both cases are Jewish, let’s go with that assumption for now. The parade-stabber/murderer is clearly Jewish.

 In Devarim 8:14, Moshe warns the people of what will happen when “your heart may then grow haughty, and you may forget God your Lord, the One who brought you out of the slave house that was Egypt.”

 Ibn Ezra describes this haughtiness as the kind that comes from forgetting your past slave-life, and the suffering and the hunger and thirst you underwent. Presumably because now you have it all, life is good and easy, and you are coasting through a good life.

 For more than a generation, the question of whether the Zionist-spirit is dead has been discussed in various mediums. The pioneering spirit to build the country has been replaced by an “it’s been built, now what?” different kind of sense-of-purpose question.

 It has been argued that Arabs who engage in terror do so because they don’t have a self-fulfilling sense of purpose. They live in a culture of hate, in which too many people do not work, and therefore have the time to focus on destroying others’ lives instead of focusing on how to improve their own lives. How many people with families and a sense of purpose (a real job) engage in acts of terror? I would imagine the percentages are much lower than the unmarried non-working terrorists.

There is no question that Israel has been on the forefront of the world’s stage in technological innovation in medicine, arms-development, wifi and cellular technology, and hi-tech (computer systems, databases and apps). And so much more. Israel’s field hospitals in disaster and war zones is second to none, and is a model for the world of efficiency, care, and what it means to truly give in terms of resources, time, and manpower. So much good emanates from the tiny Jewish State, which aims to fulfill its purpose of being an accepted, contributing nation among nations.

 But then we have a week like last week, and the pundits come out with an all-out criticism of the Jewish state.

 As if the criminals represent the Jewish people. Which they don’t. And this point has been made clear with 100 percent condemnation from public leaders and private citizens alike.

 Some look at the arson story, for example, responding, “Yeah? You think this is bad? How many Jews have been victims of terror? How many Jewish children have been killed by Arabs?” They don’t mean to justify, but to offer perspective. This is not helpful, however because all it does is try to create a moral superiority of “they have thousands of terrorists, we only have two.” Which is irrelevant.

 The only “comparison” to be made is the 100% condemnation of these despicable acts, which is a sign that while the Jewish people apparently have criminals among us, our People are repulsed by individuals who act in a manner that may reflect an arrogance such as the kind the Torah frowns upon. On the other side, the polls that show the percentages of pro-Palestinian folks who say “terrorism is sometimes justified” are almost always in double-digits.

 The parade-murderer helps us understand what the Talmud means when it talks about how there was a time in Jewish history when there were many murderers in Israel. There may have been self-appointed vigilantes who felt that they had the right to defend Torah law against those they considered sinners, and they chose to do so in a manner that included murder. The arsonists have a skewed perspective of right and wrong. And they are wrong. And the vandals also have no concept of what it means to respect property, even if they disagree with how Judaism is to be practiced.

 Rabbi Morris Joseph wrote in the late 1890s “We thereby affirm, not that we are better than others, but that we ought to be better.” The first step in being “better” (a self-monitored aspiration) is coming to a communal and national sense of purpose, hopefully which comes from the opposite angle of what causes the problem outlined in Devarim 8. Our hearts must never grow haughty, and we must never forget the God who took us out of Egypt.

 Because it is only through humility and through a God-oriented sense of purpose that respects all of God’s children that we can attain the status of being a light unto the nations. Most of us are there. We pray that all Jewish people can join the ranks of those who remember what it meant to be slaves, so we can live in peace with those who are looking to live a decent life.

 
                  

Thursday, July 18, 2013

A Great, Wise, and Understanding People? Right...

Parshat Va'Etchanan

by Rabbi Avi Billet

We are now past Tisha B'Av, and our first Shabbos foray into the synagogue puts us in a position to hear this message from Moshe: "Behold, I have taught you statutes and ordinances, as the Lord, my God, commanded me, to do so in the midst of the land to which you are coming to possess.  And you shall keep [them] and do [them], for this is your wisdom and your understanding in the eyes of the nations, who will hear all these statutes and will say, 'This great nation is only a wise and understanding people.'" (Devarim 4:5-6)
            
I try not to live with blinders on. Which is why reading this triggers an exasperating throw of my hands skyward, along with a look heavenward, and a cry (sometimes aloud, but more often silent because no one is listening) of "Us? When will THIS happen?"
            
Did this happen a long time ago – perhaps during the time of David or Solomon? Did this happen during the time of the first or second Temples? Did this happen during the Talmudic Period? Does it refer to the historical anomaly of the kingdom of the Khazars?
            
It's great that the Kuzari was written by Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi. Would it ever have been written by someone from the "nations" described in the Torah?
            
The only "wisdom of this nation" I hear bandied around is the accusation of the Jews being the Illuminati, or that the Protocols are true. Of course both of these are nonsense. But when the headlines "amongst the nations" (when true) are about Jews who commit abominable deeds – especially Jews who are supposed to know better on account of their Jewish education and upbringing – the Torah (and I shudder to say this) seems to be out to lunch on reality.
            
Of course, the Torah is right. If the Jewish people would only "keep them and do them" – the commandments, that is – we would indeed be a wise and understanding people. A model to all. After all, thievery, physical abuse, cover-ups, dishonesty, slander, etc are all intolerable offenses which have no place in a world governed by Torah ideals.
            
But even so, our Public Relations would still need a lot of work. There are many cynical and skeptical people, Jewish and not Jewish, who believe the Torah mandates the stoning of adulterers (Vayikra 20) and the killing of minors (Devarim 21:20-21, 22:21-24), and the most heinous of punishments not for the perpetrators, but for the victims of sexual abuse (Devarim 22:29).
            
Anyone who makes these claims does not understand the magnitude of Torah knowledge as they look at the verse in its most simplistic translation, and have no concept of the Oral Torah, and thousands of years of rabbinic discussions addressing what these cases mean, and whether the punishments described in the Torah were ever carried out en masse or were more fixated on demonstrating the gravity of the sin, while life itself was valued.
            
The Talmud (Makkot 7) claims that courts did not exercise capital punishment. At worst, it was a very rare occurrence. And the conditions leading to such were almost impossible to attain: valid witnesses, proper warning, zero contradictions in testimony.
            
We live in a time when Sharia law, which takes some of the Biblical laws literally (or at least as prescribed in the Quran), and practices the worst kinds of corporal punishment, is on the rise in the world, in practice and acceptance, even in some Western countries.

Halakha, on the other hand, which has so many varying opinions and is a system which can help people live meaningful and fulfilling lives following various schools of interpretation, isn't growing beyond very small circles of Jews.
            
And it has become a major turnoff to many Jews who do not observe. This is wisdom? This is understanding? What are we doing wrong?
            
We are not as Jewishly educated as we ought to be. Even our rabbis and educators, and certainly a large majority of our flock do not have a mastery of Tanakh, Talmud and Halakhic literature.
            
We spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on the education of every child in his/her lifetime, yet we (and our children) can't read Hebrew, can't translate Hebrew, and have no patience to tackle a new text. We review the same laws every year, and we still don't know basic synagogue practice and basic holiday practice. Or what it means to live a life of "hatznea leches" – living a modest existence in which we do not call unnecessary attention to ourselves.
            
We preach about lashon hara, but we don't know the difference between a to'eles (discussion with a purpose) and what is pure besmirching and slander. Even as we wring our hands with dismay at the chillul Hashem, we enjoy reading all the dirt in the press about Jewish people who "look frum" who conduct themselves in ways that are anything but…
            
We talk about people doing teshuvah, but we are unaccepting of people we believe can't do teshuvah.
            
The Jewish criminals don't represent us. But we are not doing a good enough job of representing ourselves through living and modeling a Torah life that will cause others to say, "This is a great nation, wise and understanding."
            
Let the recent mourning period of Av serve as a reminder that we have a long way to go. May we find the strength to live up to our mandate from the Torah, to truly be a model nation.



Thursday, January 31, 2013

The Unified Commitment

Parshat Yitro

by Rabbi Avi Billet

It is quite uncommon for the entirety of the Jewish people to agree about something. I would venture to bet that all of the Jews agree to the historical and national significance of the Land of Israel, but not all Jews agree as to the validity of the State of Israel (this disagreement is a shame).

All Jews agree that Hebrew is a Jewish language. But not all agree that it's "the" Jewish language. (ditto)

Moshe tells God's words to the people, "And the entire nation responded, united, and they said, 'All that God has spoken we will do!' And Moshe returned the words of the people to God." (19:8)

The Midrash (Pesikta) notes that "they did not answer thus in adulation or with flattery, one answering for the other. Rather they answered united with one heart. Even though we have not heard all of the things (all that He has commanded us – Midrash Sechel Tov adds) – we will do them."

A very rare unified voice!

Were they really unified?

The Alshich explains that there are two schools of thought in understanding their collective declaration. Either they believed Moshe's words because God had spoken them – everything that you have said in God's name we will do. Or, all that God has surely ('vadai') said we will do – as long as we know it's from Him, to the exclusion of what you have said of your own accord. In other words – we want to hear it specifically from Him.

The Alshich notes that Moshe understood them to mean the first interpretation (unified with Moshe), while God understood they had in mind the second interpretation (unified in not wanting to hear from Moshe). God's response, therefore, was "to come down in a cloud" (19:9), because they don't believe you, Moshe, and I want them to believe you. My coming in the cloud is so they can hear Me speaking to you.

The whole premise of these "possibilities" is disturbing, particularly in light of the verse right before the Az Yashir song, "And they believed in God and in Moshe his servant." (14:31)

Perhaps it goes back to the question made famous by the Marx Brothers, "Who are you going to believe? Me, or your own eyes?" They believed in Moshe at the Sea. But they still didn't believe him at Sinai. Until, apparently, the cloud came down on the mountain.

Rabbenu Bachaye notes the Talmudic tale of God lifting the mountain over them (Shabbos 88a) explaining that the pressure was to accept the Oral Law. But the Written Law was accepted willingly, with a great desire, with joy and gladdened hearts.

It is known, however that despite all these acceptances and promises, it is literally impossible for any person to fulfill all of the mitzvot of the Torah. Some are only for men, some for women, some for Kohanim, some for Leviim, some only for Yisraelim. [To bring one simple example: Many people never get divorced and thus never write a get.] The Meshech Hokhmah notes that the acceptance here is to do the mitzvot which are relevant to each individual's circumstance. Otherwise, the acceptance is to learn about and understand the details of the commandments one can not fulfill.

What is included in "all that God has spoken?" Is it everything that was said until that point? Was it a commitment to what will soon be spoken, exchanged between Moshe and God, and subsequently heard by the people? Did it include all that would be recorded in the Tanakh (24 books of the Bible)?

According to the Talmud (Berakhot 5a), all of the ideas recorded in the Bible were given over at Sinai to be recorded in written form later on. This idea is elaborated upon in the Machzor Vitri (Chapter 424).

One of the important teachings of the Torah is "not to desecrate My name" (Vayikra 22:32). One of the important teachings recorded in the Prophets is, "He has told you, O man, what is good, and what the Lord demands of you; but to do justice, to love loving-kindness, and to walk discreetly/humbly with your God" (Micha 6:8)

With the "yeshiva break" behind us, as life returns to its normal routine, it is incumbent upon us to ask ourselves if in our travels we demonstrated our commitment to "Do all that God said," "not to desecrate God's name," and "to walk humbly with our God."

When away from home, some people tend to let the "doing all God said" part of our lives slide a bit, some tend to be loud and obtrusive, to call attention to themselves, or forget that when not in one's usual environment, one does not blend in and go unnoticed. On the contrary, we are more scrutinized than in our home environments because we are clearly visitors. (Your choice to believe me or your own eyes!)

If we are truly committed to doing all God said, we must take a very careful "cheshbon hanefesh" (reflection) and resolve to be models of "Kiddush Hashem" behavior, wherever future journeys may take us.

Following the thought of the Meshech Hokhmah, these are commitments we can all relate to, as they are incumbent upon all of us. Hopefully, united, we can all agree on this one!

Friday, August 24, 2012

A Prophet Like Me


Parshat Shoftim

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The shofar sound this past Sunday began the wake-up call of the month of Elul that reminds us that Rosh Hashana will soon be upon us. As I look back at notes from previous years, I have found that the commentary of Rabbenu Bachaye on these coming parshas has found an important place in my own Elul and Teshuvah-focused experience. This week we will look at one of his important teachings.
           
In the context of reminding the Israelite nation not to follow the influence of the necromancers of the nations that surround you, a seemingly uncharacteristic comment escapes Moshe's lips: "A prophet from among you, from your brethren, such as myself, will be whom Hashem your God establishes for you – listen to him [the prophet]." (18:15)

In Hebrew, the "comment" is all of one word: "Kamoni," or "such as myself."

Many commentaries suggest that this comment refers to the previous word "me'achekha" – from your brethren – that Moshe is saying any prophet you will have will be from the Israelite nation. Not only that, but unlike some of the "prophets" who were discussed last week (Chapter 13), he will teach you the ways of God and will not steer you in the direction of idolatry or the occult, "kamoni" – meaning "along the lines as I have properly led you."
            
Rabbenu Bachaye points out, for example, that one might think "Achekha" includes a prophet from the children of Eisav or Ishmael. This is another reason why Moshe is clear to say "Kamoni," only from a direct Israelite lineage.
            
All these disclaimers are nice, but the fact remains that if Moshe needed to bring an example, he could have just as easily used his brother's name, or he could have pointed at Yehoshua as he did in Bamidbar 27 and Devarim 1 and 3 saying, "A prophet… such as Yehoshua who will be taking over when I am gone." Why did he say what seems like a hubris statement – "You'll want a prophet like me"? After all, if we know Moshe was the humblest of people (Bamidbar 12:3), certainly this comment is out of character!
            
Not one to miss an opportunity, the Baal Haturim notices that "Kamoni" (כמוני) has the same numerical value as "Anav" (humble) (ענו) (both equal 126). Moshe does not want to say "I am humble." But he does want to suggest, in code, what is a good quality of a leader.

Humility is not defined as thinking you are a nobody. Humility means knowing who you are, and not making a big deal about it. It means understanding your role, as you understand that you are a nobody in comparison to God. Most importantly, a humble leader knows that circumstances have brought him or her to a position that commands respect or is an inspiration to others, but it's the position which is respected before the person filling it earns the respect – based on one's deeds.
            
Rabbenu Bachaye explains Moshe's word-choice as follows. "The prophet should be like me, meaning he should follow my precedent. He should not add nor subtract or uproot a single mitzvah from the Torah, unless he is an established prophet and the specific circumstance warrants it (eg Elijah bringing sacrifices on Mt Carmel during the time of the Temple). Ours is not a religion in which we believe in Moshe as prophet and leader on account of the signs and wonders he did. It is all on account of our having heard God's word directly from Him [at Sinai], as did Moshe. We know it, we were witnesses to it, as it says (Shmot 19:9), 'Behold I am coming to you in a thick cloud so that the nation will hear when I speak with you, and they will believe in you [as My chosen leader] forever.'"
            
Rabbenu Bachaye quotes Maimonides (Foundations of the Torah Chapter 8) as the source for his position, and Maimonides continues the point saying every sign Moshe did was to get them to follow him to Sinai. But every sign also gets people thinking "Maybe this guy is a magician." The Sinai experience changed all of that forever.
            
When Moshe says, "God will appoint a prophet Kamoni," he is saying "It will be so clear in your eyes who is a true prophet, because he stands for Torah, is guided by the Torah, and doesn’t change the Torah." He needs to use himself, and not Aharon or Yehoshua, as an example, because it was Moshe who was on Sinai. This is not arrogance. This is knowing and understanding what his role was, is and remains forever.
            
Judaism has always been a religion in which the Written and Oral Torahs are sacrosanct. In different circles, and across a large spectrum, it has become about many other things. Chumras, how "frum" you are, what clothes you wear, how you look, where you send your kids to yeshiva/school, social action, social justice, right wing politics (more common in observant communities), left-wing politics (more common in non-observant communities), and "tikkun olam."
            
The shofar and Elul remind us, as does Moshe, that we need to look to and follow the examples of leaders and leadership that help us maintain our focus – a Jewish experience that follows the model set at Sinai, of a commitment to and observance of God's word, in which nothing (beyond certain social changes as fitting to the world in which we live) is added to or subtracted from the Torah.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

The Music of Katonti

Parshat Vayishlach

By Rabbi Avi Billet

Four times every year the word “katonti,” which appears once in all of the Bible (32:11), is read in the synagogue to much pomp and circumstance. It is typically recited by the congregation before the reader says it, as it has somehow developed its own cultish following.

What is unique about this word, which is Yaakov’s way of saying, “I have become humbled” from all the kindnesses G-d has shown me, is that its cantillation mark, the symbol that tells the reader what music to apply to the word, is up for debate.