Warning: This Dvar Torah may upset people with strong feminist views.
Friday, July 25, 2025
Parshas Matos-Masai: Lessons in Communication
Thursday, July 17, 2025
Parshas Pinchas – The Power of Standing Up
Dedicated to a Refuah Shelaima for Moshe Aaron ben Necha Itta, Binyamin ben Simcha, Chaya Sarah bas Esther Leah, and Sharon bas Shoshana
Parshas Pinchas is a parsha that focuses on bravery and heroism, on stepping forward in order to ensure that the correct path is followed. The greatest heroics in Parshas Pinchas, however, are not the remembrance of Pinchas’ act of casting his spear at the unabashed Zimri and Cosbi. Rather, the greatest act of bravery came from Machla, Noa, Chagla, Milca, and Tirza.
The story of the daughters of Tzelafchad is well-known. They requested of Moshe that they inherit their father’s portion in the upcoming allotments of the Promised Land. Moshe asked Hashem what to do. Hashem not only stated that the sisters were correct but set out the laws of inheritance to include daughters when there is no male heir.
The sages note that these women were “wise, they are interpreters [of verses], and they are righteous. [That] they are wise [can be seen from the fact] that they spoke in accordance with the moment, (they presented their case at an auspicious time). As Rabbi Shmuel bar Rav Yitzḥak says: Tradition teaches that Moshe our teacher was sitting and interpreting in the Torah portion about men whose married brothers had died childless, as it is stated: “If brothers dwell together, [and one of them dies…]” (Bava Batra 119b:).
Bamidbar Rabbah 21:11 states: “What was their wisdom? It is that they spoke at that moment when Moshe was engaged in the portion of the inheritances: ‘To these the land shall be distributed’ (Bamidbar 26:53). They said to him: If we are like a son, let us inherit. If not, let our mother be subject to levirate marriage.” If a woman who bore a daughter did not need to go into a levirate marriage, then one could understand that a daughter had rights to inheritance like a son when there is no son.
Their claim was not a fancy or a whim but a complex aspect of halacha. Their goal was similar to the goal of the levirate Marriage – that the name of their family would not be lost to history.
We don’t often think of something like a legal assertion as being heroic, but what happened with the daughters of Tzelaphchad was as brave as that which happened with Pinchas. Pinchas knew the law and carried out that law by killing Zimri (and Cosbi). The daughters of Tzelaphchad knew the law and stood up to declare that it need to be enforced.
They did something incredibly difficult and brave. They stood up and spoke out for themselves.
This may not seem like such a brave thing, but it is something which should not be dismissed. The other recorded times in the Torah when someone approached Moshe with a challenge or a request things didn’t turn out so well (the spies, Korach, the complainers). The Or HaChaim notes that the Zohar in Parshas Balak comments that the daughters confronted Moshe with others around because they were worried that he would hold a bias against them. He writes: “Why would [women] who have been described as righteous by the Talmud assume that Moshe had hatred in his heart against them or their late father? … It is possible that they were afraid that just as with the people who had complained in Parshat Beha-a-lotcha, as well as the spies who had forfeited their inheritance in the land because they had raised their voices against Moshe and against G'd, Moshe would rule similarly against them on account of the sin of their late father” (Or HaChaim on Numbers 27:2:3).
The real bravery was not overcoming their fear of bias, however. Rather it was that these women saw that the law needed to be clarified and they did not leave it for someone else to speak up. Whether we like to discuss it or not, approaching the assembly and appealing to Moshe was entering the realm of the man’s world. In the Jewish world, halacha and its discernment is very much in the man’s realm. They didn’t let that stop them. They knew what their rights were, and they didn’t fall back to thinking of themselves as just helpless maidens or insignificant women. They stood up and put halacha first.
Little is known about the individual sisters. However, Hebrewversity .com had this interesting understanding of their names:
“Machla – like the Hebrew verb ‘Le-Cholel’ - which means ‘to move’ (and ‘to dance’ in Modern Hebrew). Noha -like the Hebrew verb ‘La-Nua’ - which means ‘to move’ as well. Choglah – like the Hebrew verb ‘La-Chug’ – which means ‘to circle.’ Milcah – like the Hebrew verb ‘La-Lechet’ - which means ‘to walk.’ And Tirzah – like the Hebrew verb ‘La-Rutz’ – which means ‘to run.’
As you probably noticed they ALL have something to do with the concept of ‘moving’ naturally but in Hebrew ALL of these verbs are also connected to the concept of ‘initiating’ or simply ‘be active’ and that was precisely what the daughters of Zelophehad symbolized. (Hebrewversity .com)
The daughters of Tzelaphchad - Machla, Noa, Chagla, Milca, and Tirza – moved Klal Yisrael. They refused to be complacent when they knew of a wrong that needed to be righted. They longed to move forward and have their descendants flourish uniquely among the burgeoning nation. And so they took action and Hashem said Kain- yes.
May we all have the strength to stand up when it is right and to present our needs calmly and respectfully and may our actions move us and all of Klal Yisrael ever forward.
Friday, July 11, 2025
Parshas Balak: The Real Evil
Parshas Balak is, perhaps, the most narratively oriented parsha in Sefer Bamidbar. There are no sections of law nor any descriptions of ritual acts. There is the story of how Bilaam tried to curse the Jews, and, really, that is all.
Friday, July 4, 2025
Parshas Chukas: Chizuk in Chukas
The Jewish nation has spent the last nearly two years in a high state of alert and war. Those in Israel have experienced what we in the diaspora cannot imagine, and we in the diaspora have tasted much that we had assumed had been expiated by western idealism (snort). Needless to say, perspectives have shifted.
Throughout all of this, we persevere, and now we have come again to a parsha that is laden with history. Parshas Chukas is most famous for its focus on the red heifer. However, other than teaching us, directly, about the importance of observing chukos, laws for which we have no rationale, this parsha contains a fascinating reminder of the national journey and how rarely it was smooth. Taken together, the second section of Parshas Chukas draws a global picture of the challenge of being a nation dedicated to maintaining emunah and bitachon.
Following the precise directions for the service of the red heifer, the parsha records a series of short but detailed events. Miriam dies, and with her death, the source of water disappears. This brings the first complaints. The cry of the people is answered with a miracle as Moshe and Aaron bring water from the rock. This is followed by their interaction with the Edomites, who are left in peace even after they were inhospitable.
Let us pause and take that apart:
The people were disheartened by the loss of one of their
spiritual leaders. They saw the physical effect her death had on their world,
and they were shaken. They were unable to see a way to bring back something attached
to someone on such a spiritual high; they were unable to envision that they could
strive toward such collective merit. They received a miracle, but that miracle came
at a price in which they learn that even their greatest can make a mistake.
This was followed by a confrontation with an enemy who did not show them
respect and from whom they turned away and avoided. And while they went around
Edom because Hashem commanded them not to fight with Edom due to their
relationship, it felt, perhaps, as if they were avoiding defeat. Certainly, one
can imagine, their rerouting around Edom felt like a disheartening delay.
The Torah then continues with Aaron’s less shocking death (less shocking because Hashem prepared the nation that he would be gathered to his fathers). He transfers his office to his son, but his loss is devastating to the people, as was Miriam’s. Shortly thereafter, they are involved in a skirmish with a group whom the Midrash explains were Amalekits dressed as Canaanites. These soldiers of the king of Arad manage to take captive(s) but are then defeated. Regardless of this victory, however, the people complain once again about their lack of provisions – more specifically about their boredom with the manna. The consequence of this complaint – snakes - is also resolved with a miracle, that of Moshe’s snake-enhanced staff that ends the plague per Hashem’s word.
Seen together, we once again see how the loss of a great leader, the trauma that loss causes to the people, is not just on the metaphysical realm, where a channel to holiness has closed, but on the morale of the people as a whole. The first sign of this shift is, interestingly, in the language used to describe the skirmish with the men of the king of Arad:
“Then Israel made a vow to Hashem and said, ‘If You deliver this people into our hand, we will
proscribe their towns.’ Hashem heeded
Israel’s plea and delivered up the Canaanites; and they and their cities were
proscribed. So that place was named Hormah” (Bamidbar 21:2-3).
Why are they making a vow to Hashem, and why one worded like a bargain? Why are they ignoring who they are and the fact that Hashem has promised to be with them. The answer is, perhaps, that they no longer felt certain. They were recovering from the mortality of those who seemed like pillars of existence to them.
When there is a lack of morale, when people are stuck in a “why us” mindframe, there is often a waning of emuna and bitachon. When there is a lack of morale, the people complain: “Why did you make us leave Egypt to die in the wilderness? There is no bread and no water” (Bamidbar 21:5). When there is a lack of emuna and bitachon, the problem goes deeper: “and we have come to loathe this miserable food” (ibid.).
The plague of poisonous snakes that followed was not because they complained of physical discomfort, of being hungry and thirsty. Hashem had heard this complaint before. The plague of poisonous snakes was direct result of the viper of despair that they had allowed to grow within their midst from the death of Aaron.
National tragedies, complaints, wars, and miracles – a rather startling combination repeated twice, repeated throughout history. Alas, within all that is occurring in the third decade of the 21st century (or the 9th decade of the 58th century, depending on the calendar), it seems that Parshas Chukas has great resonance. The question is how we hear it? History may repeat itself, but our response in each repetition is what becomes significant. It is up to us to avoid “vipers of despair,” and to reach for new opportunities to develop a connection to Hashem.