Parshas Chukas-Balak – Water, Words and Women

This week’s parsha contains the infamous story of Moshe hitting the rock. It is infamous because it becomes a punishable offense that is the catalyst for Moshe not being permitted to enter the Promised Land. There are, to be honest, a great number of questions on this incident – enough to cover multiple divrei Torahs. 

Moshe hits the rock to try to restore the well of Miriam that stopped flowing upon her death. The connection of Miriam and the well is deciphered from this specific sequence of events, from the fact that the Torah states that she died and was buried and the people had no water. The connection itself is never stated directly in the Torah, but the Midrash correlates the three great miracles – the water, the manna, and the pillar of cloud – to the three leaders, Miriam, Moshe, and Aaron (in order of miracles). 

Why water to Miriam? It has been noted by the sages that the water was connected to Miriam for two reasons. The first was in connection to her following her baby brother as his basket floated down the Nile. Her natural nurturing instincts, going to such great lengths, are reflected in the production of water in the Wilderness. 

The second connection is her great recognition of the miracle of the kriyas Yam Suf when she burst into song and led the women to sing their own unique shira. Miriam understood the power of words to capture an essence of Hashem’s glory. Understanding that Miriam’s well flowed as a direct result of her lifting up her voice, of her using her words, casts an interesting light upon the actions in Bamidbar 20. Moshe is told to speak to the rock and hits it instead. He is told to use Miriam’s power, the power of her voice – which we know, that for all the speaking Moshe does in the Torah, he did not see himself as a man of words – and perhaps this was to tap into the feminine power of words.

Are words a feminine power? The sages say, “Ten measures of speech descended to the world and women took nine measures of speech” (Talmud Kiddushin 49b). Hashem used words to create the world. Women have both a large measure of the power of words and the power of creation. None of this is a coincidence, nor is it a coincidence that water is the most essential element for life. 

What is the connection of words and water? Like water, words are always powerful. They can nourish, and they can destroy. There are times when the words need to flow quickly, and time when they need to trickle gently. 

It is interesting to recall that the Torah is referred to as Mayim Chayim, living waters. There are infinite discussions about the role of women in the Torah world, about the nature of Judaism and whether it subjugates women. These are modern terms. When we delve into the Torah, we find answers of our own. We do not hear of Miriam’s connection to the essential water source until both she and the well are gone, and then only in a manner of inference. Because women, like sources of irrigation, are often the unseen wellsprings of our communities. But when the water is not there, it is something for which our people cry out, because we recognize the inherent power of the voice of women that was given sound by the uplifting shira Miriam sang after the people crossed the Yam Suf.

The Torah is the blueprint of the world. There are layers upon layers of meaning in the world that the are physical manifestations of the divine complexity of the Torah. The interplay of water, words, and women is just one that can help guide us in living our richest spiritual lives.

Parshas Korach – Wielding Words

 The next time we read Parshas Korach, the United States will be enmeshed in the last months of a federal election. Perhaps now, as the race is just revving up, it is appropriate to look at Parshas Korach and learn about leadership. Assuming no one reading this will be contending for office, one might wonder at the significance of this topic to the average person. The answer is that we are the ones who, in a democracy, are the ones who must assess the candidates for their actual leadership skills, and one of the critical factors that must be assessed is their use of pronouns of responsibility. This does not refer to anything associated with identity, but rather the very subtle way in which people use language.

 “Moshe sent for Dathan and Abiram, sons of Eliav; but they said ‘We will not come! Is it not enough that you brought us from a land flowing with milk and honey to kill us in the wilderness, that you would also lord it over us? Moreover, not to a land of milk and honey have you brought us, nor given us an inheritance of fields and vineyards. Will you gouge out the eyes of these men? We will not come up!’” (Bamidbar 16:12-14). This response occurs after Moshe has already spoken privately to his cousin Korach, the initiator of a rebellion of 250 leaders against Moshe and Aaron. Korach’s first followers were Dathan, Abiram, and a man named On, who quickly saw that this was not the right path.

 Although Korach had started the rebellion with speaking among the people and gathering a following, Moshe spoke to him (in pasukim ches – yud aleph 8-11) privately and on a personal level addressing the question in a more individualized way by pointing out that Korach and his sons were already elevated in status by the fact that they were Leviim. When Moshe called for Dathan and Abiram, however, they responded with hyperbolic public accusations. Every phrase is rife with inuendo:

 “Is it not enough that you brought us from a land flowing with milk and honey - [and then] - Moreover, not to a land of milk and honey have you brought us, nor given us an inheritance of fields and vineyards.” … Note the You and the Us. They aren’t talking of just the two of themselves, but they are speaking of Bnei Yisrael and placing the blame squarely on the singular You of Moshe. Dathan and Abiram speak of the Land of Mitzrayim as a land of milk and honey. This is how they remember their enslavement? Of course not. This language is carefully chosen to mirror the promises Moshe has recited. All the more so, it creates a juxtaposition to their statement of what has not yet occurred – their entry into the Promised Land.

 “to kill us in the wilderness” … And again the Us implying not just themselves but the people all around them. It is important to note that the inference here is causal, that Moshe led them to a place to be put to death. There is no acceptance of any responsibility on the part of themselves (as part of the nation) for the generation’s remaining in the wilderness. You brought us to die has a very different tone than and we are dying.

 Bnei Yisrael were brought to the brink of the Promised Land, and they were not permitted to enter because of their own lack of trust in Hashem. One of the reasons that this generation could not enter the Promised Land is precisely the behaviour being demonstrated here – the inability to take responsibility for their own actions.

 “That you would also lord it over us?” … This entire phrase is a red flag in any political debate. It is an accusation to which any defensive response buries the opponent in either difficult to believe humility or the appearance of arrogance. The line between being a leader and being a ruler is very fine, and in the realm of outside opinion, that line is very easily crossed. Moshe quite consciously led Bnei Yisrael and did not rule them, but once this aspersion was cast, it would be hard for others not to wonder at his actions.

 “Will you gouge out the eyes of these men?” And now the ultimate manipulation. Moshe never threatened them or anyone else. Moshe called them to come to speak with him, but their response implies Moshe’s desire to punish the entire group (the 250 men) in a most violent method. Dathan and Abiram are creating an implied threat in order to make themselves seem greater.

 “We will not come up!’” This is both the first and the last phrase of their response, which is a classic rhetorical maneuver. Stated alone and it seems a simple refusal; stated as the bookends of this dramatic response and it is a statement of their virtue.

 The fact that Dathan and Abiram’s response can be sliced apart to highlight elements of propaganda says far more about them than even their decision to involve themselves in Korach’s machlokes. And Moshe’s responding action does the same:

 “And Moshe was very distressed (with anger). And he said to Hashem, ‘Do not accept their offering. I have not taken a donkey from a single one of them, and I have not harmed a single one of them.’ Moshe said to Korach, ‘You and your entire congregation should be before the Lord. You, they, and Aaron tomorrow…’” (16:15-16).

 There are several profound things about Moshe’s response, not the least which is the fact that he speaks to Hashem first. Moshe’s immediate action is to pray and to take a moment of self-reflection. His prayer, “Do not accept their offering,” demonstrates that Moshe was concerned that perhaps Hashem would not side with him, that perhaps he had done something wrong. And so, he asks for Hashem’s help specifically. His self-reflection is his declaration that he has not taken a donkey nor harmed a single one of them. Moshe somehow seems worried that Hashem will hear in Dathan and Abiram’s accusation of his bringing the people to die and lording it over them, an actual accusation of wrongdoing.

 Moshe’s next response is to repeat, with more details, the instructions he gave in 16:5, which is that they should come in the morning for a test before Hashem. Moshe removed himself and his ego from the conversation. Moshe is focused on the goal of serving Hashem properly, not of solidifying his leadership. He doesn’t get into a petty shouting match with the rebels. He presents an opportunity for them to prove their point. And, as the parsha goes on to explain, they fail.

 Words are powerful tools that must be wielded wisely. In Parshas Korach, we see a spiritual method of “think before you respond,” which is turn to Hashem and reflect on your own actions before you respond. More importantly, we must always be active listeners and readers who dissect the words we are fed. This is true in every aspect of our lives – from politics to friendships to family dynamics.

 I wish you all a Shabbas of peace.  

Parshas Naso – An Offering of Jealousy and Remembrance.

The parsha of the Sotah is, for many people, an uncomfortable one to read. If you are a woman of the current age, it feels unbalanced, unfair, and almost cruel. In the world at large, a man’s philandering wi considered just as grievous as a woman’s, and yet, in Torah, there is no concept of a cheating husband because, one could argue, the Torah permits a man to have four wives. There are many explanations for why there is this distinction, not the least of which is the basic, practical need to be assured of the paternity of children. Part of it, however, also has to due with the assumed nature of men and women, even as old fashioned and anti-modern thought as these Torah concepts may be (although these natures are still readily apparent, no matter what the modern culture wishes to assert). 

In Parshas Naso, the pasukim describe the process of accusing a Sotah. Among the instructions, it is described that “that party shall bring his wife to the priest. And he shall bring as an offering for her 1/10th ephah of barley flour. No oil shall be poured upon it and no frankincense shall be laid on it, for it is a meal offering of jealousy, a meal offering of remembrance a reminder of sin” (Bamidbar 5:15).

The different perspectives throughout history of marital dynamics, of the nature of husbands and wives and their relationship, has always colored the interpretations of the pasukim relating to the Sotah. Thus the Or Hachaim who lived in the 16th/17th century relates this pasuk to Adam and Chava and the “original sin,” stating: 

“When the Sotah drinks this mixture of water, earth and the residue of the holy name of Hashem that dissolved in that water, the name of the meal-offering as ‘reminder of sin’ is most appropriate if she has indeed been guilt of marital infidelity…Whoever is familiar with the sin of Eve who had been contaminated by sexual intercourse with the original serpent, and who had thus been disloyal to her husband, will realise that the sin the Sotah is guilty of is indeed the original sin committed by man, i.e. woman” (translation via Sefaria).

Relating Sotah only to the idea of a cheating wife is, in some ways, simplistic. A pasuk such as 5:15 tells us that there is so much more to it. What does the Torah mean that it is “a meal offering of jealousy, a meal offering of remembrance” when it is one meal offering? If it is a “reminder of sin,” meaning the original sin, as the Ohr Hachaim proposes,” why is it connected to jealousy? 

The descriptors of this particular mincha offering are subtle warning signs to both the husband and the wife. To the wife it is a warning that the husband will be vindicated if she is untrue, that he can and will bring her forward to the high priest and have his wrongs made right. To the husband, however, it is a warning that jealousy, too, is an avaira, that the course he is embarking on will have deep ramifications, even if his wife is proven innocent. 

Rabbi Shimshon Refael Hirsh points out that “the husband can prefer to have the marriage concluded, or the wife, without admitting any guilt, can prefer divorce to continuing the marriage after her innocence has been proved, or simply does not wish to undergo the test. Neither the husband not the wife can be forced to have the test made.”

The wife, if she has been unfaithful, need not die. He can let her go; they can just end the marriage. By pursing the process of Sotah he is, most likely, seeking some level of revenge or to assert his dominance. (Unless he knows her innocence and feels a need to make a very public assertion of it.) If the woman is willing to undergo the Sotah waters after her husband accuses her, it seems this would be an assertion of innocence, for she would simply die. If she refuses to partake in the Sotah ceremony, it seems this would be reason enough to simply end the marriage.

The great and painful sin of the situation of the Sotah is, in truth, the real original sin – but not the one this foreign phrase refers to. The sin of the Sotah is the underlying inability of the couple to build a relationship, the foster two halves into a whole, to overcome jealousy. Hashem is not asking the impossible of the husband. Hashem understands jealousy, and we, the Jewish people who have gone astray, remain here – alive and thriving. 

Just some food for thought. Hope you have a beautiful Shabbas.