Parshas Nitzavim-Vayelech: 21st Century Wood and Stone

There is something extraordinarily profound about the opening of this week’s Parsha, Parshas Nitzavim-Vayelech. Unlike many parshios that start with Vayomer or Vayidaber or a few common phrases, this week’s parsha begins with words to which we must take heed. Atem – You all, Nitzavim – are standing, Hayom -this day, Coolchem – all of you, Lifnei Hashem – in front of Hashem.

 

It's powerful, yes because we are on the cusp of the Yomim Noarayim, on the days when we stand before the Sovereign Judge and ask that He see us with favor. But it is also powerful because it specifies “All of you” and “This day.” The unity that we all so frequently pontificate about is something necessary everyday, and Devarim 29:9 immediately reminds us of the tremendous power of our unity.

 

The opening of the parsha goes on to express who is included in “all of you”: men, women, and children; Jews by birth and “Jews by choice”; and those who seem, in some eyes, to be the lowest level of society. Every descendant – physical and spiritual - of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov is included in coolchem because everyone of these neshamos understands the trials and tribulations that took us out of Mitzrayim, out of the narrow straits of the world, and separated us from the nations. Then the Torah reminds us “And you saw their abominations and their repugnant idols of wood and stone, silver and gold which were with them” (29:16).  

 

It is a strange pasuk – which might be why it is a fairly well-known one. And where once we understood this pasuk to refer to those who worshiped idols – which were a threat to our nation in the days before the Anshei Knesses Hagadola davened for the removal of the taiva for avodah zara - it came to be understood as a reference to Christianity and Islam – wood or the cross and stone for the Black Stone of Mecca.

 

Just as the commentators understanding of the idols of wood and stone, silver and gold passed the test of time as the Western World was dominated by the other Abrahamic religions, so too we can look at our world today – a world in which religion seems to bear a political role far beyond belief systems – and recognize the necessary warning of abominations.

 

As the US Presidential election approaches, Jews in the country with the second largest Jewish population* in the world need to decide for whom to vote, and the choice – at least from my perspective – seems impossible. The country has polarized to the right and to the left. To the left is stone. The stone is a cold heart that finds it difficult to acknowledge the atrocities committed on October 7^th or to sympathize with Jewish students harassed on their college campuses. To the left are people who have embraced the rallying cries of the anti-Israel protesters and don’t even understand the murderous meaning of “From the river to the sea.” To the left is the delusion of safety among people who claim to have no bias but who have been empowering anti-Semitism for years.

 

To the right is wood. To the right are people who speak with fiery rhetoric about protecting Israel’s right to exist, but who, more and more, have been open to embracing men and women with deeply troubling beliefs. To the right are people who sound trust-worthy but whose values, historically, lean toward defining Jews as other.

 

The idols of wood and stone are still with us today, still luring us into trouble. The antidote to those troubles, however, has already been stated. “You are all standing this day before the Lord, your God…” (Devarim 29:9). Hayom – this day – tells us that this pasuk is important in every era. Coolchem – all of you – tells us, once again, about our most powerful weapon, which is Jewish unity. Our weapon is Nitzavim, which means to stand in an upright position.

 

Obviously, it is important to vote in the national election - That is one’s right and duty as a citizen. But as a Jew, it is most important that we stand together, stand proud of who we are, and, most significantly, remember that we stood before Hashem and we continue to stand before Hashem.

 

In a few more days, it will be Rosh Hashana (when we will literally be standing all day…lol) 5785. I think it is fair to say that 5784 was a year in which Hashem made it clear that our place, the place of the Jewish people, is neither to the right nor the left. Our place is outside of politics because our job is to remember and uphold our covenant with Hashem.

 

May this Shabbas be restful and the upcoming Rosh Hashana usher in a new year that sees victory and peace.

 

*possibly the first by a few thousand different according to the Jewish Virtual Library

Parshas Ki Tavo – The Important of Being Good

 As an English teacher, I often ask students to take a large concept and break it down to its most simplified form. Parshas Ki Tavo is, therefore, rather fascinating in its structure in that Bnei Yisrael are first presented with what could be considered a skeleton list of behaviors to be avoided lest one be cursed followed by an extremely detailed composition describing life when blessed by Hashem verses life when cursed by Hashem.

 

The skeletal list of curses, which one expects from the text to be paired with a similar list of blessings but is not, are fascinating. They do not mention any of the halachos that we most associate with living a Torah life, and they do not mention anything about the avodah, although the mishkan and its actions have taken up a large percentage of the Torah thus far. In fact, of all the curses listed, only one could be considered bein adom l’makom – and that one prohibits the making of idols and setting them up in secret, which is a very specified avodah zara.

 

In other words, Hashem is not saying to curse the person who does not keep Shabbas or who eats non-kosher food or who violates the holidays, even though these topics are related numerous times in the Torah. But one who violates basic human decency, that is whom one should curse, and the actions for which one shall be cursed are oddly specific: insulting one’s parents, moving a landmark, misdirecting a blind person, taking a bribe to be a false witness, and etc. Taken as a whole, however, they create broad brush strokes of decency.

 

The only one of the curses that is not hyper-focused, so to speak, is the concluding “Cursed be whoever will not uphold the terms of this Torah and observe them.—And all the people shall say, Amen” (Devarim 27:26). The debate, which one can even say is ongoing as rabbis today prepare divrei Torah, is whether this refers to the just completed list to which it belongs or to the Torah in its entirety. But that is a mute point for now.

 

There is one other subtle unifying factor of these curses. They are all private acts, things that might be done when – or because – there are no witnesses.

 

The curses and the blessings are to be recited just before Bnei Yisrael enter the Promised Land. This warning of the temptations that might follow, the lure of selfish violations of decency, is declared just before Bnei Yisrael are going to leave the safety of Hashem’s palpable presence. These curses are a mother or father telling their newly adult child not to overspend on their credit card. It might not seem problematic and it’s so easy to do, but the repercussions for the future are serious.

 

The curses of transgressors of decency may be directed at entering the Land of Canaan in Parshas Ki Tavo, but the curses are a warning no matter where one lives. And the temptations are far greater in gulus than when Bnei Yisrael lived in the spiritually infused Promised Land, where the recognition of Torah and Hashem was ever-present. So here we are, 2 long millennia in exile constantly encountering a world in which the mores of society are ever changing. Ours, however, should not. Gulus is a world in which Hashem’s face is hidden, in which we struggle to feel the spiritual around us, but the necessity of being a good person – of not doing ill to another even when one thinks they cannot be caught – never goes away.

 

I wish you all a good Shabbas.

 

Parshas Ki Tezei – All for One or One for All

In America, every person is entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness – a philosophical statement of rights, if nothing else. It sounds lovely, and it does appear to be the heart of western society today. The question for a Dvar Torah, however, is what does that have to do with Torah. Do these values line up with Jewish values? Let’s look at them in reverse order and see how they compare to the mitzvos of Parshas Ki Tezei, or at least some of them.

 

The pursuit of happiness is an abstract concept. One assumes that it was not meant to mean that every person should put themselves and their specific wants as first priority, but it does seem that this is how society has devolved in the decades that have passed. The halachos of the Torah in this week’s parsha, however, emphasize that the pursuit of happiness takes second priority to the “pursuit” of a harmonious community. Thus we have the commandment, and the detailed rules expanded upon in the Torah she’baal peh, of returning a lost object (Devarim 22:1-3) and, similarly, the halachos of helping even an enemy if his oxen have fallen on the road. We put others first.

 

The right to liberty is defined in the Merriam-Webster dictionary as the quality or state of being free; the power to do as one pleases, the freedom from physical restraint, and the freedom from arbitrary or despotic control. Is this different than the Pursuit of Happiness? Happiness is stating that how I  feel matters more than other people. Liberty means that my choices need to be without constraint. But in this week’s parsha, we learn about the laws of Yibum – the law by which a man must marry the widow of his brother if his brother died without children. There are, of course, halachos to exempt oneself, but the idea remains a firm part of Torah. A person does not necessarily have liberty in a Torah world. Even the most intimate aspects of a person’s life are constraint by law.

 

The right to life seems like an incredibly basic entitlement. And, in truth, most of Western Civilization is built on a Judeo-Christian foundation that places tremendous importance on life. But stating that one has a right to life implies that one has a right to no-life, that one can throw one’s life away or choose not to live. There is no right to life in the Torah; there is a responsibility to life. We see this in Parshas Ki Tezei in Devarim 22:8: “When you build a new house, then you shall make a parapet around your roof, that you shall not bring blood upon your house, if any man fall from there.”

 

It is a person’s responsibility to protect life – even on a roof-top upon which they never choose to tread. This verse, this one simple verse, reflects the identity of Klal Yisrael. Why are the numbers so disparate in the current war? Because it is built into us to know that we must protect life, that life is precious, and that life is not a right but a responsibility. Sadly, in the State of Israel, one must not only build parapets around rooftops but safe rooms and bunkers. The government invests in such evolved protection because every life matters.

 

Western civilization has taken the American Founding Fathers’ call to the right for Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness to its extreme, and, as a result, we’ve lost far too many Jews to attrition and assimilation. The evolution of Western society has allowed Jews an unprecedented opportunity to live peacefully in our gulus, to feel like we can be both who we are religiously and still be part of our host nation. And that is fine – I myself am a proud American and a proud Canadian – as long as being a Jew is what shapes our moral outlook.

 

Parshas Ki Tezei could be read as a list of rules, a review of halacha learned throughout the wandering in the Wilderness. Within that list, however, we see the true dignity of Torah: return a lost object; unload a beast lying under its burden; do not leave out a stumbling block; pay your workers’ wages on time; do not charge one’s brother interest nor hold on to the collateral of a borrower over night if it is something that they might need; not to have inaccurate scales; and etc. The parsha also talks about war, about bringing home a captured woman as a wife (how to treat her so that the truth of the relationship might be revealed and as a warning against the dangers that may come from such a union) and about remembering Amalek, who thought us a weak nation.

 

In this time period, when the shadows of the world continue to grow and the anti-Semitism long buried in the veneer of Western Civilization continues to be revealed, remember that this is who we are – a nation that values each person, their life and their dignity, because each life is essential to who we all are and not just because we want to make certain that our own happiness is guaranteed.

Parshas Ra’eh: Two Interpretations But Not really

For thousands of years, the Jewish people have prided themselves on being unique, on following a different path, on having a mission. In order to, please Hashem soon, fulfill our ultimate goal of being a mamleches kohanim, a nation of priests – a nation that leads the world in matters of spirituality and holiness (and thus ethics) - we need to hold ourselves to different standards; and that is often really very hard. Living in galus, the imperfect state of the world, has forced us to be surrounded and, thus, influenced by nations and peoples who have different goals. It is up to us to navigate that path between.

 

In this week’s parsha, Parshas Ra’eh, there is a seemingly short and simple pasuk that could easily be overlooked as a simple wrap up to the subject being discussed but is far more impactful than might be realized. Pasuk 12:4 states: “Lo ta’asoon ken la’Hashem E-lo-kay’chem. Do not do thus to Hashem your Gd.” The pasuk follows instructions to Bnei Yisrael that upon entering the Promised Land they should make certain to destroy all the places where the other nations had worshipped false gods. Indeed, the pasuk before says: “And you shall tear down their altars, smash their monuments, burn their asherim with fire, cut down the graven images of their gods, and destroy their name from that place.”

 

The preceding pasuk, however, is exactly what makes this pasuk so curious. It seems as if the Torah is telling Bnei Yisrael not to tear down or destroy anything that is part of the avodah to Hashem, but that seems like an obvious statement. The entire focus of the Torah is getting to the Promised Land to fulfill the ultimate means of serving Hashem, so who would even think to tear down Hashem. That would seem to fall under prohibitions against blasphemy and rebellion and the like.

 

Perhaps it is this conundrum that has led a great number of wise scholars to interpret this pasuk as meaning that one should not worship Hashem in any way that is similar to the worship of Avodah Zara. It isn’t as simple as don’t carve images or designate holy trees. Taking Jewish worship and shaping it to reflect modern standards is a slippery slope. Just look at where the introduction of an organ led… And it is tempting. Seeing outsiders in the throes of their own faith could very well lead one to wanting to bring that passion or joy to Jewish prayer. If you’ve ever seen gospel, it is full of energy and joy that is aimed at God. But it is not for us. We can be inspired by that to inflect more energy and joy into our own avodah, but we should not transform our avodah to mimic theirs.

 

Don’t worship like the others and don’t destroy the places or vehicles of avodas Hashem - one verse with two very different understandings, and yet they are both relevant comments on life in our modern day galus. These two instructive interpretations merge in that much of popular culture seems to thrive on erasing religion. For thousands of years of history, one could not have imagined a world where so much secularism reigned. Jews avoided the ways of worship of other nations – to the point that it is common to avoid even giving directions using a church as a landmark – but now we must be wary of the penchant for the world around us to diminish, if not erase all together, the Creator of the Universe.

 

There is one more powerful aspect to this verse: “Lo ta’asoon ken la’Hashem E-lo-kay’chem. Do not do thus to Hashem your Gd.” The power is in our hands. Hashem instructed us on how to connect to Him, and He commanded us what to do or not do according to His “Creator’s Manuel,” His omniscient view of all things. The word La’asot, as in ta’asoon, means to do or make. It is a powerful word that implies just how much bechira, free will, each of us has. Hashem gave us control over our relationship with Him, because, ultimately, that is the only way we will be able to fulfill our role as a mamleches kohanim.

 

I wish you all a beautiful Shabbas, a good start to the new school year, and an upcoming chodesh tov.

Parshas VaEschanan: Thinking About What is Coming

This past week was…intense. Not a few people went into last Shabbas wondering if this week would see unthinkable disaster or, perhaps, ever-yearned for salvation. With Iran threatening to attack and reports insinuating that they would do so on Tisha B’Av, the Jewish world held its breath. And life continued forward as before. And many wondered, even as they were grateful for the lack of attack, why or when – and even why we keep cutting to the edge of a new era but are unable to get there.

 There are many interesting aspects to this week’s parsha, Parshas Vaeschanan, that could speak to the situation in which we are living. In particular, it is interesting to look at the second half of perek hey (5), starting at pasuk 20, which is the beginning of the fifth aliyah. In the parek, Moshe is describing the reaction of Bnei Yisrael to hearing Hashem at Har Sinai, at the giving of the Aseres Hadibros.

 “And it was, when you heard the voice from the midst of the darkness, and the mountain was burning with fire, that you approached me, all the heads of your tribes and your elders. And you said, ‘Behold, the Lord, our God, has shown us His glory and His greatness, and we heard His voice from the midst of the fire; we saw this day that God speaks with man, yet [man] remains alive. So now, why should we die? For this great fire will consume us; if we continue to hear the voice of the Lord, our God, anymore, we will die. For who is there of all flesh, who heard the voice of the living God speaking from the midst of the fire, as we have, and lived? You approach, and hear all that the Lord, our God, will say, and you speak to us all that the Lord, our God, will speak to you, and we will hear and do’” (Devarim 5:20-24).

 In other words, the people stood at Sinai, saw the thunder, heard the lightening, listened to Hashem’s voice, and grew terribly afraid. They knew that they were receiving something sublime, that they were experiencing a moment that would take them to another level of existence – and they backed away from it. They feared it. They asked Moshe to intervene for them.

 The Rambam listed 13 tenets of Jewish faith, the Ani Maamins, and one of those is “I believe with complete faith in the coming of Moshiach, and although he may tarry, nevertheless, I wait every day for him to come.” Waiting – yearning – planning – pining for Moshiach. This is what a Yid does.

 

But, to say something controversial…

 

It is part of the human condition to fear change.  It is natural to be afraid of the unknown. And as much as we all may express our emunah, true emunah and bitachon is incredibly difficult to achieve. Over the past few weeks, the question of what to daven for has been a conundrum. If one davens that this is Moshiach coming, does that mean one does not daven for peace and stability. And if one davens that the enemy backs down, is that buying more time until global decisions necessary for spiritual change are made?

 Bnei Yisrael at Har Sinai were at an inconceivable level of spiritual awareness, and their fear drove them to make space between themselves and the Divine. Have we grown past that? Can we? Ani Maamin b’emunah shelaima bviyas Hamashiach…but is that enough? Believing Moshiach is coming, wanting Moshiach to come, preparing for Moshiach –  but will we be able to embrace Moshiach when he comes?

 This week’s parsha is named Va’eschanan, which means “And I entreated.”  This week’s Shabbas, however, is known as Shabbas Nachamu, after the opening words of the Haftarah, which mean “Console, console My people," says your God” (Yeshiyahu 40:1).  There is a tremendous lesson of bitachon in the two names associated with this Shabbas. When one takes it upon themselves to truly beseech Hashem, to reach out and entreat Him for help – whether that be asking Hashem to send Moshiach or asking Hashem to help one get to the level of emunah to fulfill the ani maamins – then one will be able to witness Nachamu, the consolation and comforting of our nation.

 

May we achieve this soon.

Good Shabbas

 

Parshas Devarim: These are the words of Moshe – [This is] the vision of Isaiah

 Without question, Jews around the world are “holding our breath” this Shabbas. For many of us, we do not remember a Nine Days that felt so rife with threat – and we in the diaspora are experiencing only a small sliver of that tension.  Some may be asking “How did we get here?”, while others are pondering “How can the situation be saved?”

 

This Shabbas is known as Shabbas Chazon, which technically translates into the Shabbas of vision but receives the name because chazon, vision, is the first word of the Haftara, the opening lines of Sefer Yishayahu (Isaiah). Shabbas Chazon is always the Shabbas right bfore Tisha B’Av, and it is also always Parshas Devarim. Within that duality lie responses to both questions.

 

How did we get here? Parshas Devarim begins with Moshe reviewing the actions of Bnei Yisrael throughout their sojourn in the Wilderness. Most significantly, however, Moshe focuses on the appointment of the spies who so thoroughly led the nation astray. And it is only here, in Devarim, that we learn the subtle details of how Moshe felt about their request to spy out the land and how troubled he was by their lack of bitachon. Here it is that we are reminded that had we, meaning the whole of klal Yisrael, not cried out in self-pity that Hashem was leading us to our destruction, all of history would have been different. We are reminded of how often Klal Yisrael can be its own worst enemy.

 

How did we get here? Hashem makes it clear in Yishiyahu’s vision that all of our trials and tribulations stem from our own behaviour. We bring upon ourselves destruction because we did not learn from our mistakes, because we allowed our society to become selfish and sinful. More importantly, even as we practiced perfect sacrifices and orderly rituals, it is clear from Yishayahu’s words that we lost the ikker, the heart, of the Torah – which is about creating a true and just society.

 

How did we get here? Ritual and ceremony, and even prayer, mean little without actual bitachon. Without bitachon, we cannot set up a just society because we work under the pretense that we control the outcome and so our instincts for self-preservation kick in. Alas, as pointed out in Shaar Habitachon (I believe), the ways of Hashem are such that when mankind believes in a force other than Hashem – be that an idol or money or people or self – Hashem leaves them in their delusion.

 

Parshas Devarim wraps up with the assignment of land to Reuven, Gad, and half of Menashe on the far side of the Yarden. This is significant because it reminds us of an important aspect of bitachon, which is knowing that we are in a relationship with Hashem, that Hashem listens to our opinions and desires as well.

How can the situation be saved? Loftily stated – by creating a society built on bitachon. This doesn’t mean religiosity, but rather “Learn to do good. Devote yourselves to justice; Aid the wronged. Uphold the rights of the orphan; Defend the cause of the widow” (Yishayahu 1:17). One can build a truly just society only when one truly comprehends that Hashem runs the world for the good of all and that we are each only tools for His will to be carried out.

 

Of course, life, and faith and individuality are far more complicated than just saying trust Hashem, and true bitachon is an exceptionally hard feat – made even harder by a host society that asserts its rights to self-expression and self-fulfillment above all else. Most of us are self aware enough to know that we as individuals are not in positions to shape national policy – or often even community behaviour. What we can shape is ourselves.

 

Will Iran attack? Might Hezbollah go rogue? Are our synagogues safe? We must daven that this evil will pass, but we can’t just daven in a vacuum. We have to do our hishtadlus by incorporating acts that lead to just-ness and by building our bitachon.

 

Shabbat Shalom.

 

 

Parshas Matos-Masai: Learning from War

 War… It means far more to us today than it did a year ago. Indeed, after the actions of this week it means far more to us today than it did a month ago. The war we hoped would come to a quick and victorious end hovers on the precipice of regional escalation. And this calls to the question the conundrum of the very existence of war.

 

One would think that in the ideal world there would be no such thing as war. Utopian fantasies are often premised on the very idea of a society so advanced and enlightened that there is no fighting. And, in truth, there are certainly ideas that in the coming days of Moshiach (bimhera, byamenu) the “lion shall lie down with the lamb” and “"nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.” But that’s the dream of the future, and this week’s parsha, parshas matos-massai, is just one of several parshios in the Torah that discuss Bnei Yisrael going to war.

 

Perek lamed -aleph actually presents a particularly relevant call to arms. “So Moshe spoke to the people, saying, ‘Arm from among you men for the army, that they can be against Midian, and carry out the revenge of the Lord against Midian’” (31:3). God has instructed Moshe to arm Bnei Yisrael to fight the Midianites as his final leadership act before he dies.

 

Quite clearly, this is neither a war of defense nor a war of conquest, but specifically a war of revenge against the Midianites. To those of us raised in the 20^th or 21^st century Western culture, the idea of a war of revenge seems anything but religious or Godly. Nevertheless, that is exactly what Hashem ordered.

 

What was it that needed to be avenged? Parshas Balak, it may be recalled, contains two nations trying to interfere with the Jewish people. Balak was the king of the Moabites, and, according to the commentaries, they had reason to be concerned about the Israelites. Chizkuni, on pasuk 25:17 states: “whatever the Moabites had done, they had done because they had believed that they had a legitimate reason to fear for their lives from the Israelites. Furthermore, the Israelites had already taken possession of lands which used to be theirs before Sichon had conquered it from them in war.”  The Midianites, however, also busied themselves with Balak’s war, and Rashi points out on Bamidbar 31:2 – “The Moabites entered into the matter out of fear, because they feared that they might plunder them, since about them it was stated only, (Devarim 2:9) “Do not contend with them in battle”; but the Midianites, however, had got excited (had interfered) in a quarrel that did not concern them.”

 

This is not so different from the world we live in today, when everyone seems to have an opinion and a sense of a permission to get involved in a quarrel that does not concern them.

As much as we may disagree with their ideology, the Palestinian battle has a morsal of reason to it (which is not to say that any of their means of fighting are legitimate or that their distortions of history are acceptable. There is a country for Palestinians as understood by the term as those who lived in the Ottoman entity of Palestine and that is the Kingdom of Jordan that was created from the majority of the original territory…but I digress). However, what have Houthis of Yemen to do with it? What does Iran have to do with it?

 

But there is a deeper issue at hand as well. What was it that the Midianites did to the Israelites? They followed the advice of Balaam of Moav and attacked Israel on a moral level. They lured them into licentious behavior so that Hashem would turn His favor away from them.

 

So much of the world today seems to believe that Israel wants to be aggressive, that Israel deserves to be judged and condemned. That sentiment is not just about Israel and Zionists, but as we see through the general increase in anti-Semitism, it is about all of Klal Yisrael. The global situation today, while it is actually bringing many Jews closer to their Judaism and the community, is derailing the Jewish nation from their greater responsibility, which is to be an Ohr LeGeula, a light unto the nations.

 

We are not in a world today where Hashem directly communicates. We have no great leader to tell us exactly what to do and how. But we do have to recognize that through all the trials and tribulations our nation is going through, it is up to us to remember our mission. It is up to us to make an even greater effort to make a Kiddush Hashem and show the world who we truly are. We also have to know and recognize that it is okay to fight, it is okay to engage in war, to let the truth shine through.

 

May Hashem protect Israel and all of the brave men and women who must stand strong in the face of so much danger and who protect our nation both physically and spiritually.

301 – BRING THEM HOME, please Hashem.

 

Good Shabbas

Parshas Pinchas: At This Time

Dedicated to all of those on the front lines of fighting for Klal Yisrael in every capacity.

This Dvar Torah is being written on the fuel of a thought, a thought that kept leaking into my thoughts as I contemplated what to write…and it is definitively political.

 

This week’s parsha, Parshas Pinchas, is often associated with discussions of zealotry, even though Pinchus’ great act is recorded at the end of Parshas Balak, which was read last week. Pinchus’ renown comes from the fact that he took a spear and, with it, killed a Midianitess and a prince of the tribe of Shimon in one shot. He didn’t do it as a reaction. He didn’t do it in anger. He didn’t do it to show himself as smarter or stronger or holier.

 

Pinchus’ actions were spurred by an inherent understanding of the order needed in the world and how the actions of Zimri and Cosbi broke that order.  Pinchus was that finely attuned to the Divine will, even though he was the only one of his family who had not been elevated to the kahuna. Of course, that leads right into this week’s parsha’s actual discussion of Pinchus, which is that Hashem recognizes that Pinchus has the inherent nature of his immediate family and makes him a kohain.  

 

For some reason, knowing that it is Parshas Pinchas and that this week is the opening of the 2024 Olympics in Paris strikes a chord. Pinchus set himself into a dangerous situation – not only because those lured out by the Midianite women were, one might assume, not quite in their right mines due to enflamed passions, but also because those looking on might have reacted with violence to his action as a natural next step. And yet he still did that which was right.

 

One could, of course, immediately state that the Olympics are striking example of goals that are far outside of a Torah lifestyle, but the world is what the world is and the Israeli athletes who wish to represent the Jewish nation have stepped out of their tent, so to speak, and into a seethingly dangerous situation where once again passions are enflamed.

 

Balaam could not curse Bnei Yisrael, and so he found an alternate route. The State of Israel’s enemies could not crush Israel, and so they found an alternate route. Balaam sent women to seduce the men into sin. Just as Balaam was able to recognize Bnei Yisrael’s weak point, so it is today, only our weak point is international perception and, oddly enough, Israel’s own strength. Today, Israel’s enemy has been using an exceptionally well-honed PR campaign as well as professional protesters and they have enflamed the world.

 

Alas, today none of us are on a caliber anywhere close to Pinchus, for we live in an era of hester panim, of obfuscation. However, we can remember that what Pinchus did was, most importantly, a kiddush Hashem.

 

There is a general presumption that this upcoming display of nations showing their best athletes, but really their national pride, will see Israel met with ire that has a high likelihood of spilling into violence, especially when we have seen it before.

 

As Israel heads into this fraught situation, and, in truth, in the global situation that we now face, remembering Kiddush Hashem is incredibly important. The Jewish people, individually and collectively, must seek to be above other nations’ standards of behavior. This isn’t about whether Israel is right or wrong in its actions in Gaza – that is certainly far beyond my scope of understanding. Nor is this a statement of how one should react to the protestors directly – again a complicated question. Kiddush Hashem is about each of us as individuals.

 

We most often think of Kiddush Hashem as that which reflects Torahdig behaviour to others. There is, however, another element – which is inward. Facing a sea of hate and disparagement, we each have to know that our neshamos have unique missions and our worth and our value and our identity come from that, come from Hashem who assigned Bnei Yisrael a role. Remembering that fact, even when everyone around you is either acting against logic or cowering from reacting, leads to true kiddush Hashem.

 

May we each find the best way to fulfill our role in this world and may Hashem reveal emes to the world.

Parshas Balak – Was Balaam Holy?

 Dedication: Please Hashem, guard our nation from strife both internal and external!

Today’s Dvar Torah will be loosely cited and may not lead to a conclusion. It is, in some ways, a thought experiment. Certainly, these thoughts are answered by many great Torah minds in depth, but it seems beneficial to bring them to the forefront.

One of the most frequently spoken about topics in Jewish life, and one of the essential concepts in Jewish life, is bitachon. Trusting in Hashem means trusting that He is constantly and absolutely in charge. It sounds simple; it isn’t.

Those who master bitachon never want. This is the premise of being a baal bitachon. This statement, however, leads to many questions, especially for those of us who are not masters in our own bitachon. We’ve seen impoverished tzadikkim and incredible Torah teachers struck by terrible illnesses, which lead us to the question of – well if that’s never wanting, what will be for me!

It isn’t simple. In the sefer “Becoming a Ba’al Bitachon,” Rabbi Yechezkel Abramov, discuss the different understandings of this idea and spends time examining the opinion that Hashem gives baal bitachon the outcome they seek verses a baal bitachon sees in every outcome that Hashem has provided that which was best. Interestingly, these two ideas are critically important in this week’s parsha.

In parshas Balak, the Torah introduces Balaam. Balaam is considered the equal of Moshe in his ability to recognize Hashem in the world. He is the prophet of the nations, a balance to Moshe’s greatness.

Balaam fully recognized Hashem’s constant hand in this world so much that he received direct responses, which makes him far greater in bitachon than most people. Balak came to him because up until this point, Balaam had a magnificent record of having his requests fulfilled. One could even wonder if Balaam’s absolute faith that what he requested would be given made him a baal bitachon, equal to those whom we revere as tzaddikim.

 

On the other hand, when Balaam actually stood to pronounce curses upon the Nation of Israel, what came out were blessings. Hashem answered Balaam's prayers; He just answered them in the way that was best for the world and therefore best for Balaam. 

 

It is fascinating, when you read the parsha, to notice how calmly Balaam seems to react to each curse turned blessing. And when Balak rages at him, he says: “But I even told the messengers you sent to me, say ‘If Balak gives me his house full of silver and gold, I cannot transgress the word of the Lord to do either good or evil on my own; only what the Lord speaks can I speak” (24:12-13).

 

Balaam really does come across as a baal habitachon. And that leads to further questions. What does it mean  thatBalaam is a smarmy person who accepts money to curse a nation and later plots for the moral dissolution of the Israelite men? What does it mean that he is seen as a prophet by other nations and that a wicked king seeks him out in particular.

 

It means that Balaam was not a baal bitachon because while Balaam recognized that Hashem was the Master of the Universe and the One in charge, he felt no need to accept a moral code upon himself. Indeed, from his choices at the end of the parsha when he advices that the Midianite women go out to seduce the men of Israel, one can almost see an underlying defiance of the yoke of shemayim, one can sense a desire to find a work-around to the path Hashem has set for the world.

 

One of the most acknowledged facts about the Torah is that its “heros,” for lack of a better word, are human. They have flaws. So too, the “villains,” for lack of a better word,” have middos that we can emulate. Esav is renowned for kibbud av, Lot understood hachnassas orchim, and Balaam had bitachon. We look at people and too often we judge them only for their weaknesses and deficits rather than that which is good. This week, as we head into the three weeks when we mourn so much tragedy that has happened, let us look for the good in others and remember the importance of bitachon in our everyday lives.

 

Shabbat Shalom

Parshas Chukas – The Greatness Factor

 In a fascinating book I am currently learning with a friend, there is a commentary noted about Miriam and Miriam’s well. (Alas, the book - The Moon’s Lost Light by Devorah Fastag - is at home in Canada, where I am not, so this will be an imperfect citation.)  All of Bnei Yisrael could see the greatness of Moshe and the greatness of Aaron; they were not, however, quite so aware of the greatness of Miriam. Yes, she led the women in song after kriyas Yam Suf – and certainly the women looked up to her, but the whole of Bnei Yisrael still did not necessarily view her greatness on par with her brothers. Hashem wanted Bnei Yisrael to recognize Miriam’s inherent greatness, and so He removed the well that traveled with Bnei Yisrael in her zechus so that Bnei Yisrael could realize just whom it was that they had lost when she died.

 

The book brings up this commentary in order to discuss the fact that throughout history there has been the tendency to give less credit to women then to men, but Hashem draws no such distinction. There is, however, a broader lesson that can be discussed within the general realm of bein adam l’chavero.

 

What is greatness? The fact is that greatness is a human judgement factor. We see people who lead others or who excel in certain skills or who do extraordinary things and we attribute greatness to them, whereas we overlook the everyday mother of 8 who keeps her children well-fed and well-loved and filled with a feeling of positive self-image and we don’t think “ah, there is greatness.” We don’t look at a man who chooses a trade and learns it well and provides for his family physically and emotionally while still maintaining his davening and learning schedules and define him as great. We acknowledge them. We maybe praise them. But we don’t give them crowns of greatness.

 

The question of “greatness” might, however, really come down to the level of neshama. What was an individual’s tafkid, and what was their potential? The person holding down a steady job and being kind to their family might be “great” because that was the tafkid they need to achieve or because did so above and beyond what circumstances would have made one assume.

 

 

Everyone can’t be a “Great,” or the superlative loses its meaning. There are some people who we need to crown with leadership, spiritually, politically, or culturally. But it is within us to look at each person, to acknowledge each person, and try to see their greatness, to try not to overlook them as simple or average.

 

I wish you all a beautiful Shabbas.

 

 

 

Parshas Korach – Rallied

 

Dedicated to the brave chayalim who are protecting our homeland.

 

Over the last several months, we have all been following the somewhat befuddling events taking place on major university campuses, and spreading beyond. People are lining up to follow the anti-Israel contingent because they think that they are doing the right thing, but in so doing, they have reverted to plain old anti-Semitism – vandalising synagogues and taunting Jewish students.

 

Many of the people participating in these protests are not clear on the specifics; they don’t know what river or what sea and they ignore the non-stop history of violence against Israel that rarely lets up.  But they believe, they truly believe, that they are fighting for justice, for what is right.

 

While the context is vastly different, it is interesting to consider how mob mentality effected Bnei Yisrael when one well-spoken man spoke out strongly for what he perceived as justice even as it flew against that which was Divinely ordained. Korach stood up to speak against Moshe and Aaron monopolizing the leadership because perceiving this as truth allowed him to rationalize his jealousy. Datan and Aviram grabbed onto the spirit of Korach’s ire and fanned the flames of his sense of righteous indignation – Had Korach stopped to see who it was who was rallying to his side, had he remembered their history of rabble-rousing, well perhaps things would have ended differently.

 

What of the members of the nation who followed Korach, who stood against Moshe and Aaron? Sincerity is a lovely motivation, but one can sincerely believe in the wrong thing. Over the last decades, how often has the society we lived in revised its moral compass. What once was wrong is now right, because that is what happens when what is right and fair and just are determined by how we feel. Korach felt that Aaron as Moshe’s brother having the kahuna was unjust, that one family should not share the leadership, and he truly believed that. But his righteous indignation also blinded him to the simple fact that Moshe and Aaron had both been given their roles by Hashem.

 

The followers of Korach who were consumed by heavenly flame are not considered wicked or evil people. They were misled by their hubris and by the ever-human desire to create that which is “fair.” When people start clamoring for “fair” or “right,” however, they often forget that the universe has rules because the universe has a Ruler. Hashem appointed Moshe and Aaron to their respective leadership roles, and after that, nothing else mattered. Hashem declared a specific role for Bnei Yisrael, and a special homeland, and whether others think that is fair or just, doesn’t actually matter. What matters is whether we are following the right path as set out in the Torah, that we are doing the will of Hashem. When we don’t follow the will of Hashem, the blueprint of existence that Hashem gave us, then there are consequences.

 

The path of history is long and those who are shouting their righteous indignation and anti-Semitic poison now sincerely, it is sad to say, believe that they are fighting for justice. They ignore the non-stop rockets that have been sent into Israel for years, they minimize the barbarity of the attack on civilians, and they fail to acknowledge the hostages that are still being held. Over the last century society has chosen to believe that all people can come together and determine a rightness of being in the world, but this too is hubris – because politics and pride and jealousy color every decision made. Organizations like the UN and the International Court claim objectiveness when this is an impossible feat for the human psyche.

 

After Korach’s Levites perished, Hashem commanded Eleazar the son of Aaron HaKohein to gather the fire pans and beat them into a covering for the alter. They weren’t buried or hidden or destroyed. They were transformed and elevated so that ever after people could be reminded of that which had occurred and remember that Hashem has a plan, whether you like it or not.

 

 

Parshas Shlach – Named to Fame

The penultimate subject of Parshas Shlach Lcha begins with anonymity. “And it was that when Bnei Yisrael was in the Wildreness, and they came upon a man gathering wood on Shabbas” (Bamidbar 9:32). While the Midrash provides details on the who, where, when, and even why, the fact that it is written in such an ambiguous and anonymous manner communicates in itself something profoundly meaningful.

Before exploring the wood-gatherer further, however, let us look at the very beginning of the parsha. “These are their names: For the tribe of Reuben, Shammua the son of Zakkur. For the tribe of Simeon, Shaphat the son of Hori. For the tribe of Judah, Caleb the son of Jepphunneh. For the tribe of Issachar, Yigal the son of Joseph.  For the tribe of Ephraim, Hoshea the son of Nun. For the tribe of Benjamin, Palti the son of Raphu.     For the tribe of Zebulun, Gaddiel the son of Sodi. For the tribe of Joseph, for the tribe of Manasseh, Gaddi the son of Susi. For the tribe of Dan, Ammiel the son of Gemalli. For the tribe of Asher, Sethur the son of Michael. For the tribe of Naphtali, Nahbi the son of Vophsi. For the tribe of Gad, Geuel the son of Machi. These are the names of the men Moses sent to scout the Land…” (13:4-16).

 

The parsha starts out with recounting the journey of the spies, how they went into the Promised Land, looked around, and declared that the land was too difficult and dangerous for them. Ten of these 12 men led Bnei Yisrael into despair, into crying out that they were being led to their death. Their behavior effected not just Bnei Yisrael in the Wilderness, but every generation since.

 

Parshas Shlach highlights two places where people did wrong, where there were actions and punishments and significant consequences. Their crimes were very different, but it is interesting to note that whereas the wood-gatherer is given anonymity, the spies are listed by name. This leads us to two interesting and opposing questions. What is similar about these two situations? What is the difference between them?

 

The two main narratives of Parshas Shlach are connected in a very subtle way. According to tradition, had Bnei Yisrael entered the Promised Land at that time, they would have done so with Moshe as their leader, and they would have been given a situation much as we imagine the forthcoming days of Moshiach (bimhairah b’yameinu). But with all the blessing that includes, it also precludes spiritual growth, and Bnei Yisrael really weren’t ready for that. Similarly, it is a well-known statement that if Klal Yisrael keeps two consecutive Shabbasim, they will bring Moshiach, and, again, they weren’t ready for that. In fact, several commentaries assert that the wood-gatherer acted deliberately in order to break the second Shabbas and to teach his brethren about the true significance of guarding Shabbas because they were not yet spiritually strong enough.

 

Both actions had dire consequences for Klal Yisrael, so why are the spies named but the wood-gatherer left anonymous?

 

The wood-gatherer was a man who sinned. Whether he sinned on purpose, as some commentaries say, or by accident, whether he chose to ignore the warning he received or didn’t understand the consequences of his actions, he was just a member of the kehilla. His transgression was grave. And while there is an idea that except for him Klal Yisrael would have kept a perfect Shabbas, that is also not a foregone conclusion. Someone else might have erred.

 

The spies, on the other hand, were not just members of Klal Yisrael. The Torah wants it made clear that they were men of significance, that they were leaders of their tribes. Interestingly, the Torah describes the wood-gatherer’s actions from the point of being caught, after the act is done; the narrative of the spies, on the other hand, is related from before they acted.

 

The actions of Shammua, Shaphat, Yigal, Palti, Gaddiel, Gaddi, Ammiel, Sethur, Nahbi, and G’uel were compounded by their name. They had influence. They knew that their brethren would listen to them, would follow them. They are named because they were significant people to others.

 

We live in an era where celebrity comes and goes, where too many people are pushing for their five minutes of fame, where everyone and their brother seem to think that if they have a smartphone with a camera they can be touted as experts on something or other. But being known, being famous, being a person people immediately think of and turn to, means that one’s every action has a greater impact on other people.

 

The Torah doesn’t name the wood-gatherer because who he is is not important, and he has the right to privacy and respect. His actions are significant and so must be publicized, but his name does not have to be. Who the spies were, on the other hand, had a direct connection to the impact of their actions, and they cannot be shielded from being named and connected to the great travesty that sent Bnei Yisrael back into the Wilderness.

Parshas Behaaloscha: A Day or Two, a Decade or a Millenia

 We all know that history repeats itself. We all know that there are few constants in world history as anti-Semitism. We all just didn’t expect to be living through the end  of such a short period of a golden age, an era when Jews are able to flourish and thrive. And this golden age has been particularly significant after the drastic devastation of the Holocaust.

 

It is fair to say that while there are other nations who have a history of being oppressed, there is no nation on earth that has experienced anything resembling the cycle of success and persecution as the Jewish people. But even with the knowledge of this history of the world, we, as individuals, are still trying to understand why now – why so soon – and why here.

 

The world is a journey, a march through time. When Hashem made us a nation and set in motion our journey from Mitzrayim, Hashem knew that it would be a long path ahead of us. Hashem told us that we would come into the Promised Land and that we would mess up and be kicked out. Hashem told us that we would transgress and lose our way and that we would face devastating punishment, persecution and exile. The warnings are not subtle.

 

But in His Torah, and in His relationship with the Dor HaMidbar, Hashem also provided the guidance for us to build our Emuna and Bitachon that would allow us to survive thousands of years of challenge. Hashem provided us with all of our needs, our sustenance, our clothing, etc. We wanted for nothing, not even water. Understanding Hashem’s capability to give everything a person needs reassures us in every generation that Hashem does give each person what he needs, on an individual level rather than just on a national level. The key is maintaining Emuna and Bitachon (no easy task).

 

The unceasing cycle of Jewish history, so prominent in our perception right now as we try to understand the seemingly sudden and rampant anti-Semitism, is part of the journey and the unknowable pattern of exile and movement. It is also something we can find allusion to (and take comfort from) in Bamidbar 9:22 - “Whether it was two days or a month or a year—however long the cloud lingered over the Mishkan—the Israelites remained encamped and did not set out; only when it lifted did they break camp.”

 

The Dor HaMidbar did not move through the Wilderness at a steady pace. They did not know how long they would be on the move before they stopped and encamped, and once they encamped, they did not know how long they would stay. They knew only one thing – that Hashem would let them know what they were to do.

 

It is interesting to note the Ohr Hachaim’s commentary that explains, in summary, that Bnai Yisrael were not “anxiously awaiting instructions to move.” The verses in perek tes are meant to demonstrate how the Dor HaMidbar “completely assimilated themselves to what appeared to them to be G'd's wishes in the matter….[they] did not pre-empt G'd's instructions when it came to making or breaking camp…” (as translated by Sefaria).

 

Bnei Yisrael in the Wilderness did not go forward and look at every rock and crag and wonder if this was where they would camp. They didn’t harass Moshe with “Are we there yets?” When they were moving, they were moving with purpose, and when they were told to settle, they settled completely. They were aware that they might have to move, but it did not stop them from unpacking, so to speak. They were not anxious because they understood that everything was up to Hashem.

 

Right now, it feels like an appropriate time to be anxious. However, when we reflect on the core traits of emuna and bitachon that our ancestors fostered in the Wilderness, we realize that anxiety serves no purpose. There are challenges, very real and very scary challenges, as we journey forward. We must, however, be like the Dor HaMidbar and know that our way in this world is all Yad Hashem.

 

Parshas Emor: Spring Charity

 Parshas Emor: Spring Charity

If you’ve been counting the way I’ve been counting, then congratulations on making it this far in Sefiras Haomer. (Trust me, there are years I missed counting on day two!) More seriously, if you’ve been counting the way I’ve been counting, then you are fulfilling a mitzvah from this week’s parsha: “And you shall count for yourselves from the day after the day of rest, from the day that you brought the sheaf of the waving, seven weeks shall be completed” (Vayikra 23:15).

 

It is a fact that we take our holidays very seriously. Vayikra 23 is just one of several places in the Torah where they are listed in detail, which actually makes it easy for one to just glance over them when reading the parsha and sort of nod to one’s self. Yup – Pesach, omer, Shavuos…yup, Seventh month…got it, yes. Tucked in among those perakim, however, is an extra commandment – one that seems to have nothing to do with the holy days. It is the only verse in Vayikra 23 that is, seemingly, unrelated to the holidays. It says: “And when you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not wholly reap the corner of your field, neither shall you gather the gleaning of your harvest; you shall leave them for the poor, and for the stranger: I am the L-rd your Gd” (Vayikra 23:22).

 

The obvious question, of course, is why this verse is here at all since it seems to take away from the general subject. While one can insert basic principals of logic, such as “Seeing that the principal period of harvesting commences around the time of Shavuot, the Torah chose to speak of this season first, when discussing special laws of benefit to the poor connected with the act of collecting the harvest” (Chizkuni, Leviticus 23:22:1), this only answers the question of what is the connection, not of why it was connected here.

 

Shavuos is a strange holiday. In the Torah it has no official date, just that it is celebrated at the end of the count. It is a convocation without any specific rituals. Much of how we celebrate this chag is based on minhagim rather than rules, such as all night learning and eating dairy. If we lived in an agrarian society, as Bnei Yisrael once did, Shavuos might have a more potent impact as we would be right in the middle of the spring harvest. We would have been working for weeks, and we would be highly aware of all the effort that went into the production of the food. If we were running a farm, we might come to feel that all the grain we had brought for the omer offering was enough to lose from one’s hard work. But, “Perhaps the Torah wanted to inform us that the owner of a field from which the barley for the Omer sacrifice has already been taken is still subject to the variety of tithes the farmer is commanded to leave for the poor when he harvests his field” (Or HaChaim on Leviticus 23:22:1). The Or Hachaim goes on to say that the Torah interrupts itself here, in Vayirka 23, so that a person would not think that their barley field would “no longer be subject to the legislation of the various donations which have to be separated from the harvest” (ibid.).

 

This is a very practical and efficient understanding of the verse. Perhaps we can add to that an understanding for the Jewish generations of the 21^st century, most of whom are not agrarian and none of whom yet have access to the Beish Hamikdash.

 

Reaping the harvest of the land is the glorious culmination of hard work. Our chagim are the gathering times that we today, with our long-distance families and our overbooked lives, can look forward to as a time to get back to what is most important – our spirituality and our relationship with God. On all of these holidays, we must stop and be aware not just of how fortunate we are but also on how we can help others in a dignified and meaningful way.

 

This reminder could be inferred for any of the more agriculturally aligned holidays – the shlosh regalim. It is inserted after the commandment of Shavuos, perhaps because Pesach and Sukkot are themselves so full of mitzvot and are therefore busy times for this reminder. Or perhaps it is the other way around. Sukkot and Pesach surround the winter. In the fall, as the temperatures drop, we are all aware of the upcoming need for stocked food and warm clothing. In the early spring of Pesach, we have not yet recovered from the winter, so we are more aware and conscientious of those in need who might have suffered more challenges. But in the late spring/early summer, when warm air and the sunny skies make us all feel joyful and lighthearted and optimistic and we are celebrating a holiday for which we do not have weeks of physical preparation, it is easy to be wrapped up in a sense of ease.  But even if it is warm and sunny, there are still many people who are struggling to get their basic essentials.

 

This probably is not the reason that Vayikra 23:22 is included in the middle of all the chagim. However, with today’s lifestyle being so very different from that of the majority of our ancestors, we need to seek out an application that resonates. The laws of the Torah are laws that can be eternally applied; it is up to us to see a deeper perspective and to recognize that Hashem has made it clear that chesed is always important.

Enjoy the spring. Enjoy our movement toward the celebration of Matan Torah. Have a beautiful Shabbas.

Parshas Kedoshim: Three Times the Ghost

How much time in your day-to-day living do you spend thinking about Hashem, how to get closer to Him or what He really wants from you? This week’s parsha brings us to the quintessential command for living – holy you shall be. So simple to say; not so simple to implement or even to understand on its deeper levels.

There are many ways that we can think about being holy. Simplistically, one might say it is to be religious, to be part of the community that lives life to a higher standard. Many of these standards, mitzvos and laws, are set down in this week’s parsha, Parshas Kedoshim.

 

There are many fascinating structural elements to this parsha, such as the frequent repetition of Ani Hashem, that are intriguing to explore. One of these interesting elements can be found in the thrice repeated prohibition regarding Ohv and Yidoni, which seems to most often be translated as ghosts and familiars.

 

If this gave you pause, that is not surprising. Most of us knew that there was a prohibition against necromancy; that in itself is not odd. What is interesting is how it flows in and out of the parsha that is generally subdivided into multiple, brief topics. This prohibition is mentioned in 19:31, 20:6, and 20:27 – the last pasuk of the parsha. Allowing for the concept that there are no extra words in the Torah, there is then a question of what distinguishes each of these perakim.

 

Interestingly, when set one after another, the three verses read as follows:

19:31 – Do not turn to ghosts or to familiars, do not seek to be defiled by them. I am the Lord your God.

20:6 – And the soul that turns to ghosts or familiars, to go astray after them, I will set My face against that soul and cut him off from his people.

20:27 – A man or a woman that is within them [meaning divines through] a ghost or familiar shall be put to death. They shall stone them with stones. Their blood shall be upon them.

 

From this perspective, there appears to be a progression from commandment not to do so, to the consequence of seeking such “guidance,” to the punishment for the one who performs those actual rituals of “communication.”  And the verses go from no punishment, to a punishment that is generally considered spiritual, to a punishment that is physical – to death. One might deduce from this progress that the man or woman mentioned in verse 27 has gone beyond negating holiness to being one who destroys the holiness of others.

 

But one still needs to ask why these pesukim are not set one after the other since they are so obviously related. Rabbi Shimshon Rafael Hirsh provides interesting insights, both on 19:31 and 20:6, on deeper concepts that might be drawn from these prohibitions in each of their locations. Verse 19:31 follows a restatement of keeping Shabbas, but, more significantly, it precedes the commandment “You shall rise before the aged and show deference to the old; you shall fear your God: I am Hashem” (18:32). Rav Hirsh points out how this is the “complete positive opposite.” Perhaps we should understand from here that a person who seeks guidance from ghosts and oracles and familiars should do far better to seek that guidance from those who have lived and experience a great deal of life, particularly those who have steeped themselves in Torah.

 

Similarly, 20:6, which describes those people who actually turn to this guidance, comes immediately after Hashem reiterates His feelings about those who turn to Moloch. The worship of Moloch was hideous and included the burning of children. It is also interesting, however, to note the name of this false god and how it so closely reflects the term Melech, king. Hashem is Malachei Hamelachim, and this avoda to Moloch represents the absolute dismissal of Hashem’s reign. Many people turn to idolatry because, perhaps, they have trouble with the distance Hashem needs to keep in order to give us free will. This is the same drive that leads someone to consult oracles and ghosts. Rav Hirsh points out that “The belief in the imaginary power of oracles is closely related to that of the power of Moloch, a power of ill-luck or providence apart from God. It is seeking pronouncement on the desirability of taking action or abstaining from it, and of one’s fate, from other imaginary sources.”

 

The third reference follows the verse “And you shall remain holy to Me, for I, God, am holy and I have separated you from the nations to be Mine” (20:26). Hashem chose us, and it is up to us to make a relationship with Him. That is the very purpose of being kadosh. If we feel the need to seek out ghosts or familiars, oracles and divination [as some translations go], then we, as a nation, have lost our purpose.

 

When we hear that the Torah bans necromancy and communing with the dead, as the wording is often put in the modern modes of language, many of us laugh a bit inside. Who would do such a thing? It is so obviously a contradiction to what we believe. And yet it is so strongly repeated in the Torah because it is a natural inclination in man. But one that has such a desire can react to it by following the path of his elders and learning Torah and connecting to God, or that person can follow the path of ultimate destruction and destroy his or her relationship with the Divine. It is up to us to choose the path, to have the strength to be holy even when we face the vast unknown.

Parshas Acharei Mos: Wandering Thoughts on Civilization

The dictionary definition of the term “civilization” is, in my opinion, rather funny. According to Oxford Words, it means: “The stage of human social and cultural development and organization that is considered most advanced.” Why is this funny? Because it is based on an incredibly subjective reality. Who, after all, gets to determine what “advanced” means? And yet, for centuries Western “Civilization” has done just that.

 

Perhaps the decline started during the era of the enlightenment, but many would say that it accelerated in the 1960s, when the concept of free expression transformed into a cult of personal liberation. Over the last half a century, however, there has been an increased whittling away at tradition and community that has led to a society in which the adulation of “freedom” has become the be all and end all. This is certainly not everyone – quite probably not even the majority – but it is a voluble minority filled with news makers and cultural idols.

 

We have just completed the holiday of Pesach, the holiday of freedom. Our concept of freedom, however, is not about celebrating our individual identities. It’s not about what “I” want or who “I” am above all other things. This is, in fact, a major aspect of this week’s parsha, Parshas Acharei Mot.”

 

Breaking into personal honesty here, this has always been a parsha that made me uncomfortable. In fact, it was one of my son’s bar mitzvah parshas, and I remember worrying that one of the other children had read it too closely (and, indeed, she did tell me that she read it in English, but asked no further questions). An entire perek of the parsha, perek yud ches, is a description of whose nakedness one shall not uncover. On the whole, it is a summation of the Torah’s prohibition against incest, but it goes farther than that. How we behave in our most intimate moments is a basic foundation of a society.

 

The fact that I felt uncomfortable with this perek was a reflection of many things, and among them was the understanding that the general society in which I was raised was filled with an ever-growing counter-culture that abhors the idea of personal limitations. The 21^st century mores of personal rightness make sense in an advanced technological “civilization” wherein we have a sense of being able to control all things. We “make” meat without a cow. We grow plants without dirt. We build machines that can think. Why would we accept ancient dictates of right and wrong when we obviously know better?

 

Our so-called advanced civilization appears, right now, to be calling for support of terrorist organizations. There is a masochistic urge to support ideologies that diametrically oppose Western Civilization. Our society rejects itself and, particularly among young adults, there seems to be a great self-hatred even as there is a vaunting of the ideal of absolute personal expression.

Something’s wrong.

This year I read Perek yud ches with a different perspective. Societal norms for intimacy – whether adhered to by all members or not but that are recognized and accepted as norms – are foundation stones. The term civilization is built from the term civil, as in civil law. The civil laws in the Torah are known as the mishpatim, and they are often defined as the laws that are necessary for a just society (no stealing, no murder, etc.). The laws in Acharei Mot are mishpatim, even if they deal with the most individual and personal choices of life.

 

It is straight forward and honest. To build a civilization, a place of advanced social and cultural development, one must look to tradition. Hashem gave klal Yisrael a blueprint that sets out rights and wrongs because when human beings start to believe that they know best, ego and hedonism play powerful roles in swaying our perception. Granted the ability to make and create, given our inherent power, we tend to forget that He who created the world, and Who creates the world on an ongoing basis, is the One is the one in charge. It’s not us. It’s not about Me.

 

Good Shabbas

Parshas Metzora: The Beauty in Materialism

A beautiful, new set of freshly toiveld silverware sparkles in my hand as I gently dry it in preparation for the upcoming holiday. I smile, humming as I work because I feel happy that my Yom Tov table will look so pretty. Suddenly I start to wonder about redemption and Moshiach and what my joy in my pretty Amazon purchase bodes for my attitude toward redemption. Am I too attached to my home and my possessions? If Moshiach came now and this Pesach we celebrated the true call of redemption, would I be happy to, or even capable of, picking up and leaving?

Don’t get me wrong. It’s a bracha and an honor to be able to make a beautiful Yom Tov. We use the material to elevate us as we focus on the spiritual. The Torah doesn’t promote ascetisism. It’s okay to own and enjoy nice things, and it is even encouraged to fulfill mitzvos in the most beautiful way.

In an interesting way, we even see this in the roots of Pesach. During the ninth plague, Hashem made certain that we had the nice things. The plague of darkness provided Bnei Yisrael with the opportunity to discover the gold and silver that they would later request from the Egyptians, payment for the years of servitude. They later used that gold and silver, each person of their own desire, to build the mishkan.

It is noteworthy to think about the wealth they acquired. It was both payment and fulfilment. Payment, as in compensation for the generations during which the people were enslaved, and thus could be seen as something earned. Fulfilment, as in Hashem promised Avraham that his descendants would come out of the land of oppression with great wealth – a promise fulfilled; but also fulfillment, as in Hashem gives each person exactly what he or she is supposed to have.

So if Hashem gives each person exactly what they need, does that mean I might need new crystal for my Seder table? Maybe…but then it means it is there for a reason, and I should gain something spiritual from it.

The spiritual and material are inherently connected, and this week’s parsha, Parshas Metzora, makes that point in a particularly fascinating way. The parsha talks about the possibility of tzaraas transferring onto one’s possessions. It’s a very difficult-to-understand concept. In this day and age, unless something is designated as a religious object, we don’t think of the possibility of an inanimate object having spiritual modulation.

Our material possessions, however, are connected to us just as much as we are connected to them. My possessions can reflect a spiritual downturn, as in the case of tzaraas, or they can reflect elevation, as when used for a mitzvah. The question, as with many things, comes down to bechira, free will. If I use my wealth to do mitzvot as beautifully as possible, that underlines spiritual growth. If I use my wealth to build myself up to become either arrogant or, on the other hand, my attachment to materialism makes me jealous or avaricious, then that demonstrates a lack of growth.

There is an interesting Midrash (Vayikrah Rabbah 17:6, cited by Rashi on Vayikra 14:34) that explains that quite often the destruction of a house and possessions because of tzaraas led to the discovery of treasure hidden behind the walls (left by the Amorites, according to the Midrash). Hashem’s aim is not poverty and punishment. Hashem’s aim is to help us draw closer to Him.                                                                                                                                                                        In the fall, we celebrate Sukkot by leaving our homes and moving into “huts,” which demonstrates our faith that Hashem is truly in control. On some level, we leave behind our physical and material security. Right now, however, we are about to celebrate Pesach, to celebrate redemption from slavery, and we do so with a lavish and luxurious seuda in which we are taught to recline like royalty and drink rich wine – we surround ourselves with a physical glory in order to honor what Hashem did for us.

In preparing our magnificent seder tables – or while perusing those over-the-top magazine images of the perfect seder table – we are presented with the empowering challenge of being clear in our intentions. These sparkling new knives bring me joy because they will enhance my Yom Tov, not because they will enhance me, and if – no, and when, Moshiach knocks at my door, I could, if required, walk away from it all.

As we enter this auspicious time, I wish you all a gut Shabbas and the ability to focus on what really matters in this world, and I pray that Hashem will send a speedy redemption for those still held by Hamas and for our entire nation from this dire threat.