Omniscience and Independence (Ki Tisa)

God is omniscient and omnipotent. This is more than just a concept of the Torah; It is a basic fact, for if God was not All-knowing and All-Powerful, He would not be God. But God’s omniscience and omnipotence makes the incident of the Chait Haegel, the Golden Calf, as described in this week’s parsha, all the more perplexing.

The Chait Haegel is one of the most well-known narratives of the Torah, and that makes it easy to read without asking our own questions. This week I was not struck by any particular pasuk but by the overarching development of the narrative. One thing I have always loved about studying Tanach is becoming aware of the subtle but significant use of pacing.

The narrative of the Golden Calf is encapsulated in Chapter 32, which begins with the people assuming that Moshe has missed his expected time of return. It seems as if their immediate response is to request Aaron to make them an idol. He hesitates, places barriers around the act, and they persist until he makes them a molton calf. Once it is built, Aaron proclaims that “Tomorrow shall be a feast to Hashem” (32:5), which is what occurred. These are verses 1 through 6. Verse 7 switches to Hashem and Moshe on the mountain, and it appears that God is only telling Moshe about the incident after it has occurred. Hashem builds an argument against the people that culminates in Him seeming to ask permission of Moshe to destroy them and make Moshe into the founder of a new great nation, which Moshe does not accept.

This was a nice little summary of the narrative, so you might be wondering what the question is. If God is omniscient and omnipotent, why did the scenario unfold like this? As soon as they made the calf, why didn’t God turn His wrath on them. And if He didn’t react immediately, why did He seem to seek Moshe’s permission to punish them?

In many ways, the same question here is a question that has existed since the beginning of humanity, or at least the first day. In the episode of the Golden Calf there is a distinct echo of Adam, Eve, and the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Bad. There, too, we can ask, so why didn’t God intervene earlier? And why did God ask Adam where he was if He is omniscient?

Reading through the parsha, one could wonder just how angry God really was. Think of the timeline of Jewish history being reflected in of childhood development. When we arrived at Sinai, we were like toddlers learning to be independent. When little people hit that stage of asserting their independence, they often make mistakes, sometimes big ones. Sometimes they do things that are terrible, but not really unexpected, and we have to feign anger in order to let them know that what they did was unrepeatably wrong – but, inside, we are not nearly that angry because we know that this is a step they need to experience and learn from in order to grow.

God displays His anger to Moshe, not to the people, because He wants to see what Moshe will do. The Chait Haegel, while a sin of the nation, was, in some way, a final Divine test of Moshe’s leadership; and he passed. God wanted to see that Moshe could love His people the way He loved His people, that Moshe would go so far as to fight Hashem (verbally) for their right to survive.

What about Moshe’s anger? After Hashem relents, Moshe heads down the mountain with the two tablets and meets Yehoshua, who notes the sound of war coming from the camp. When Moshe sees the calf and the dancing, he is angered, and he breaks the tablets and etc. The pasukim here are very interesting: “And when Yehoshua heard the noise of the people as they shouted, he said to Moshe:

There is a noise of war in the camp.’ And he [Yehoshua] said: ‘It is not the voice of them that shout for mastery, neither is it the voice of them that cry for being overcome, but the noise of them that sing that I hear.’ And it came to pass, as soon as he came near the camp, that he saw the calf and the dancing; and Moshe’s anger waxed hot, and he cast the tablets out of his hands, and broke them beneath the mount (32:17-19).

Moshe suspected that the noise was indicative of their blasphemous activity, but he held out a bit of hope that the people were opposed to the calf. When he learns that it is all the noise of joy, his anger comes from disappointment. Perhaps he had hoped that, by the time he returned, the people would have come to their senses and destroyed the calf -- or at least stopped worshipping it.

The entire incident of the Chait Haegel moved the Children of Israel, and Moshe, a step closer to independence. Moshe pleaded that God not destroy them, but he saw clearly that some form of punishment would be needed. The punishment, however, came at the point of a sword, an exceedingly human enacted punishment without any Divine flair to it (unlike other punishments, such as a plague).

The omniscience and omnipotence of God during the incident of the Gold Calf is, it seems, not at all in question. Like many of us experience on a smaller scale as parents and/or role models, sometimes mistakes, even big ones, need to occur in order for a person, or a people, to grow. 

Place in a Role (Titzaveh)

Parsha Titzaveh is all about the Kohanim - the details of their garments and the structure of their sanctification ceremony. In Chapter 29 it is written: “And you shall cause his [Aaron’s] sons to come near, and dress them in tunics” (29:8). It is interesting that the verb used is in the causative form.

One would think by the flow of this narrative that after describing the anointing of Aaron as the high priest, his sons would be instructed to come forward in order to be anointed. Rather, they were to be brought forward. Perhaps this was meant to signify to the Children of Israel and the sons of Aaron themselves that becoming a kohain was neither a privilege nor a choice but rather a duty and an obligation.

Many people think of the role of the kohanim as a caste above the rest, but with that elevation came restrictions. In fact, to this day, some of those restrictions (relating to marriage) have led people to seek ways to de-kohen themselves.

In Sefer Bamidbar, Korach leads a rebellion on the premise that Aaron and his sons should not have taken the kahuna for themselves, but the fact that they were to be “brought forward” signals that this was not a taking, not even a receiving, but was rather a Divine appointment.

Perhaps from this one could draw the lesson that one must always be careful about judging the life position of other people, because everyone was placed into their situation by Divine Will and therefore everyone is exactly where they are supposed to be.

Taking, Not Bringing or Giving (Teruma)

“Speak to the Children of Israel and they shall take for me Teruma, from every man whose heart so moves him, you shall take my Teruma” (25:2). Divrei Torah that come out around Parshat Teruma often talk about how Hashem desires each person to give from the heart. While there are other mandatory taxes, such as the half-shekal given by every male between the age of 20 and 60 as a means of census taking, the Teruma offering to be used to build the Mishkan (Tabernacle), the dwelling place of the Divine Presence, was meant to be donations from the heart. This fact makes one specific word in the opening pasuk particularly interesting: vayikach, and he will take.

One would think that the verse should read “and they shall bring or give for me Teruma, from every man whose heart so moves him, shall bring or give my Teruma.” When one thinks of an offering, one thinks of something that is brought or given, not something that is taken.

Let us contemplate the two other primary word choices. To Bring is an intriguing word in Hebrew. To Bring is lehavia, which is actually in causative form and is more accurately translated as “to cause to come,” because that is what you are doing when you bring something, you are causing it to come. This implies something more transferal than the other word choices (Give or Take). One is causing the piece of acacia wood to come to the elders as a donation, but there is no action within one’s self. The meaning, when described this way, lacks ownership.

On the other hand, latait, to give, is an active verb, and a very personal one. One might say that it is the verb that has the implication of generosity. But giving also has a feel of possession and attachment. One gives what one has and, in doing so, remains attached to it. Think of all the times you see someone using a gift you bought for them and you think, oh I gave that to them, or, vice verse, when you dress your child in a particular sweater because so-and-so gave it to them. Through the act of giving, something of the giver remains with the object.

The verse commands that Bnei Yisrael take Teruma. Of the three word choices, taking is the most active. In the act of taking, the object becomes separated from the owner. In the act of taking Teruma, one is selecting from the possessions given to them by God, a subtle acknowledgement that ultimately everything is from Hashem and one should let go of one’s feeling of possession. Perhaps taking, in the case of Terumah, is a more active form of bringing because one is causing the gift to come while also nullifying one’s sense of ownership of the gift being brought.

The verse is also interesting in its double usage of the verb lekach. First it is vaykachu – and they shall take, and then it is tikachu – and you (pl) shall take (from every man whose heart so moves him). To me this difference is best understood by something said by Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch: “Nothing is to be given directly to God, but the gifts of each individual are to be given to the community, for the Divine purposes. This implies that it is not the individual, but the community, who has to erect the institutions for God’s purposes, and it is not for single givers, but from the community that these arrangements have to be established.” (He also comments that the use of the second person plural, tikachu, includes Moshe in those who have to give.)

“Speak to the Children of Israel and they shall take for me Teruma, from every man whose heart so moves him, you shall take my Teruma” (25:2). Giving to Hashem is different than giving to another person, and therefore, when one wants to give to Hashem one should look into his or her heart and truly understand what they separate and bring forth from themselves. 

Being Servants of Hashem (Mishpatim)

The parsha of Mishpatim contains an assortment of sections laying out basic laws for the society being established by the Torah: “These are the rules you shall set before them [Bnei Yisrael]” (Exodus 21:1). This week’s Dvar Torah is also an assortment, one of small thoughts not necessarily attached one to another, nor supported by sources, since the week flew by without enough time for me to read through the commentaries.

Mishpatim 1 – Immediately following the introductory verse, the parsha records the rule of the Hebrew slave. “When you acquire a Hebrew slave, he shall serve six years; in the seventh year he shall go free, without payment…If he came single, he shall leave single; if he had a wife, his wife shall leave with him” (21:2-3)…And if a slave wants to stay with his master, his ear is pierced on the doorpost of his master’s house (ibid. 6).

If these are the rules to be set before the people, why start with the rules of a Hebrew slave. It is commonly noted that the meaning of piercing the slave’s ear by the doorpost of the house is because the mezuzah is placed on the doorpost and the slave is being chastised for preferring the rule of man to the rule of God. Could there be something else to learn from the placement of these verses?

A common discourse at Passover time is the discussion of what it means to be free. Bnei Yisrael were taken from the slavery of Egypt but were immediately brought to Sinai to be Avdei Hashem, servants of the Divine. So where was the freedom?

By introducing the laws of the Hebrew slave as the first of the mishpatim, perhaps Hashem was telling the people that one must not think negatively of having a Master, of having the laws of the Torah directing their life. Bnei Yisrael as a whole have gladly chosen to serve Hashem not for a limited time, but forever.

Mishpatim II – On January 30, one of the large, Canadian telephone companies had a share-the-message campaign to raise money for mental health. One of the underlying messages was that mental health issues are very often misunderstood and misinterpreted, which only make them harder on the afflicted individual.

What is the connection of mental health awareness and Parshat Mishpatim? In this week’s parsha there is an interesting mitzvah: “When you see the donkey of your enemy lying under its burden and would refrain from raising it, you must nevertheless raise it with him” (23:5).

Many parsha talks have been written on how this verse carries through time even to the modern age. For instance, if your unfriendly neighbor’s car is broken down at the side of the road, you should pull over and offer assistance. The verse has the beautiful, underlying message that one should push oneself particularly to help a person with whom one is not on good terms – that giving to one’s enemy helps breech the gap.

There is an often-used metaphor that the donkey, the chamor, represents the material. Human beings are God’s unique creation combining the physical/material and the spiritual. The physical is the goof, the human body. It is “burdened” with carrying the neshama, the spiritual element of man. When a person sees that his enemy’s “chamor” is struggling with its burden – when he notices his enemy afflicted in the soul – one should find a way to reach out and help them.

Mishpatim III – “You shall not accept a false report do not place your hand with a wicked person to be a false witness. You shall not follow the majority for evil, and you shall not respond concerning a lawsuit to follow many to pervert [justice].” (23:1-2).

While most commentators begin their commentary on these verses by stating that they relate to judges, the fact that it does not state so at the beginning leaves room to ponder the broader meaning. In 21^st century North America, with politics having run off the to a land of insanity and the media no longer a reliable source of news, it often feels as if mob mentality is the fashion of the day.

Because of social media, it is so easy to share a news story or a commentary, but very often people don’t take the time to research the truth behind the headlines – they simply click “share.”

More significantly, the very strong “identity politics” that are being broadcast are making it harder and harder for Jews to connect to the Torah as absolute truth. If everybody else says X is ok, isn’t it? But the Torah sets very straight rules of what is and is not okay for society, and it is our job to remain servants to Hashem and not be swayed by false reports and societal peer pressure.

For last year's post: https://cthedawn.blogspot.com/2019/02/being-servants-of-hashem-mishpatim.html