The Essence of Jewish Existence

 

 

“A People that dwells alone; not reckoned among the nations.” – Numbers 23:9

 

The verse above is from this week’s Torah portion, Balak (Numbers 22:2-25:9). It is named after the king of the Moabites who retains a sorcerer by the name of Bilaam to curse Am Yisrael. Many believe that due to certain events that occurred prior to Bilaam’s speech, the latter ended up blessing Bnei Yisrael. Others believe that he cursed them.

At first glance, this verse which describes the relationship between Am Yisrael and the nations of the world, seems paradoxical. The persisting anti-semitism and ongoing isolation of Yisrael, especially in today’s world, demonstrate that this is an accurate reflection of reality. On the other hand, however, a bird’s eye view of world history indicates that the Jewish People have been involved in world affairs and contributed immensely to humanity and world civilization.

When examining the interpretation of this verse by rabbis and Torah scholars, it seems that it has evolved in an interesting way over the ages.

Rash”i, one of the earlier commentators  (1040-1105) interprets this verse through working with the literal translation of the Hebrew. In his view, Bilaam is predicting the future of Bnei Yisrael. According to him, Bilaam’s words imply, “You are distinguished (dwell apart) by your Torah traditions, and because of them you will not suffer the fate (be reckoned) of extinction but will survive and prosper.”

Eight hundred years later, Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehudah Berlin (Netziv), likewise, dwells on this very perplexing verse. In his view, this verse should be read thus: “If a People is content to be alone, faithful to its distinctive identity, then it will be able to dwell in peace. But if Jews, seek to be like any other nations, the nations will not consider them worthy of respect” (Haamek Davar to Numbers 23:9). Every other nation that went into exile, adopted the customs of the dominant culture, was respected and accepted as equal. That, however, was not the case with the Jews. When they sought to fuse with the native people, they were renounced and became more isolated. In other words, Netziv is not advocating total segregation but rather avoiding assimilation. Both, he believes, are impossible.

 Netziv’s analysis bears great significance considering that it was made in Russia, in the latter part of the nineteenth century. It was a period when many Jews were assimilating, some converting to Christianity. At the same time, anti-semitism not only did not diminish but rather erupted in the form of violence as evidenced by the many pogroms that occured in many places in 1881.

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch (1808-1888) offers a modern angle to interpreting this verse. Utilizing the Hebrew text, he distinguishes between a “People” (am) and “nation” (goy). The first is a sociological entity, composed of groups or tribes of common origin that share the same code of conduct and collective memories. The second is a political one. That, according to Hirsch, means that Yisrael “will live in an insulated land without much intercourse with other nations. Its People will preserve “its ‘internal’ national mission as a national social body, as a nation among the nation that will not seek its greatness to impress others by his strength and heroism.” Am Yisreal will live in Eretz Yisrael, will conduct limited affairs with other nations, with no desire to compete with them, and will focus on its historical role. (commentary to Numbers 23:9).

Rabbi Sacks (1948-2020) is also puzzled by this verse. “How are we to understand Bilaam’s words?” he asks, when commenting on this ambivalent verse. Unlike some thinkers, who claim that Bilaam ended up blessing Bnei Yisrael, Rabbi Sacks claims that this verse is “not a blessing but a curse.”

In his book Future Tense, Rabbi Sacks shares his perspective on this verse. There, he recounts a meeting with an Yisraeli diplomat, in 2001, shortly before the now ignominious UN’s Conference against Racism in Durban.  During the conversation, the latter tried to calm the attendees by suggesting that it had always been our Jewish fate while quoting Bilaam’s phrase. “Hearing this verse in that context,” shares with us Sacks, “….I suddenly saw how dangerous this phrase is and how close it runs the risk of being a self-fulfilled prophecy. If you define yourself as the People that dwells alone, you are likely to find yourself alone. That is not a safe place to be.”

Rabbi Sacks reminds us that the Talmud claims, in Sanhedrin (105b), that “all the blessings with which Bilaam blessed the Jewish People turned into curses with the sole exception of the ‘How good are your tents, Jacob phrase, your homes, O Yisrael’ (Numbers 24:5). He goes on to add that “the Rabbis suggested that Bilaam was deliberately ambiguous in what he said, so that his words could be understood as blessings but also had another and darker meaning.”

Whether we believe that Bilaam cursed or blessed Am Yisrael, one fact remains clear. The verse shows the distinct character of the Jewish People. Despite its isolation, the Jewish People have remained defiant, determined and continued to choose life. Despite all the hardships and the suffering, we have endured by the greatest empires and other powers, we have outlasted them all!

Am Yisrael Chai

Shabbat Shalom

Chukat- a Lesson in Faith and Obedience

 

This week’s Torah portion, Chukat (Bamidbar,19-22:1), covers several topics. In this article, I will address two of them. Both surround the issues of Obedience and Faith.

The first is the enigmatic topic of Parah Adumah (Red Heifer). The second is one of the most famous and probably just as enigmatic stories of the Torah, Moshe’s violation of G-d’s command when he strikes the rock to draw water, instead of speaking to it.

The portion opens with the words, “And this is Chukat Ha’torah (the decree of the Torah). Rabbi Shlomo Katz expresses bewilderment at this verse and justifiably so. According to him, “Torah means ‘teaching,’ while ‘chukah’ means ‘a decree that we do not understand.’ This,” he continues “makes ‘Chukat HaTorah’ an oxymoron-a ‘teaching’ that cannot be understood.” Isn’t one of the goals of teaching to explain, in a logical way, that which is meant to be taught?

The first statute that this portion presents is the law of the “Parah Adumah.” G-d speaks to Moshe, “Tell the Yisraelites to bring you a red heifer without defect or blemish and that has never been under the yoke.” The animal is then slaughtered, burned and its ashes, mixed with other ingredients, are used to purify a few kinds of contaminations which the Torah addresses in various places.

Scholars, Jewish as well as non-Jewish, throughout the ages, have debated this decree. No one, however, could understand it. Even king Solomon, the wisest of all men, who, according to Midrash Tanchumah, Chukat 6, grasped the entire Torah, studied this Mitzvah, examined and queried it, did not understand it. This, the Midrash explains, is what Solomon meant when he wrote, “I said I could become wise, but it is beyond me” (Kohelet 7:23).

When citing this Mitzvah, Jeff Seidel explains that within “the precepts of the Torah, we find ‘statutes’ (such as the red cow), which at first glance we define as ‘commandments of obedience,’ which, although apparently have no logic (as we find in not killing and not stealing), we must fulfill them because that is what G-d commanded.”

In his exposition on Rash”i’s Torah commentary, Gur Aryeh, Rabbi Judah Loew ben Bezalel, known as Mahara”l of Prague, asserts that when performing a Mitzvah, it does not matter whether one understands it or not. What is of utmost importance is that it is performed properly.

My most favourite Rabbi, Jonathan Sacks, ZT’L, also commented on this perplexing issue. The “law of the Red Heifer,” he emphasizes, “became a classical example of a chok, a ‘statute,’ often understood as a law that has no reason, or at least none we can understand.”

Here come the questions that are begging to be asked. Why then has G-d given Am Yisrael a Mitzvah such as the Parah Adumah, one that they cannot comprehend? Would it not have been better had He given us Mitzvot that we could all comprehend and thus perform them all?

Rabbi Mendi Kaminker has offered some answers to these tormenting questions. He bases them on the Hasidic doctrine. According to this creed, this is a cardinal principle in the relationship between G-d and us. We must perform Mitzvot out of devotion and obedience to G-d even if we do not grasp them because this is His will. Furthermore, explains Rabbi Karminer, when it comes to Mitzvot that we do understand, we should not observe them merely because we do know their underlying reason, but rather aspire to reach the G-dly component which is above our rationale. In other words, obedience is the bedrock of our faith in G-d.

The second topic that I wish to address is Moshe’s insubordination of G-d’s command.

Am Yisrael, fearing that their water supply will deplete, complain to G-d and Moshe, “Why did you bring us up from Egypt to die in this wilderness, for there is no food and no water, and our soul is disgusted with the insubstantial food?” (Bamidbar 20:5))

G-d instructs Moshe and Aharon to approach one of the rocks and speak to it in order to draw water. “Speak to that rock before their eyes and it will pour out its water.” (Bamidbar 20:8). Since the rock which Moshe approaches is indistinguishable from its surrounding ones, the Yisraelites, who did not notice it, begin to grumble and challenge Moses while doubting G-d’s command. Naturally, Moshe loses his temper in the face of their impatience and lack of faith, irately hits the rock with his staff instead of speaking to it, as G-d commanded him.

Though the goal is achieved, and Bnei Yisrael are able to quench their thirst, their anger at Moshe, causes Moshe and Aharon to disobey G-d’s command. What the Yisraelites failed to understand is that had they spoken to the rock, then the miracle would have been much more meaningful in forging a cohesive bond between Am Yisrael and G-d. As a result of their disobedience, Moshe and Aharon were punished and banned from entering the Promised Land.

How is it possible that Bnei Yisrael, just as in the case of the sin of the spies, after witnessing all of G-d’s great and powerful deeds, still casted doubt and complained against Him and against Moshe?

Rabbi Dov Meir Rubman, ZT”L suggests that “there is no rational explanation for their behaviour. A thinking man,” he believes, “could not have acted as they did.” What the Yisraelites failed to understand was that had Moshe spoken to the rock instead of hitting it, then the miracle would have been much more meaningful and could have contributed greatly to forging a cohesive bond between Am Yisrael and G-d.

 

Unfortunately, their irrational behaviour pointed yet again to disobedience and lack of faith which led to dire consequences for their leaders, Moshe and Aharon.

The Anatomy of Unendurable Disputes

 

“Every dispute that is for the sake of Heaven, will in the end endure; But one that is not for the sake of Heaven, will not endure.” – Mishna Avot 5:17

 

Two weeks ago, we read the Torah portion, Shelach Lecha. It focused on the dispute stemming from the episode of the spies (Bamidbar 13-14) which is also referred to as “the sin of the spies”.

 The Korach Torah portion of this past week centered on another kind of dispute. This one emerged from a rebellion against Moshe, one that was orchestrated by Korach and his followers.

Some of you may question why I allude the two portions together and wonder about the connection between them. The answer is simple, they both embroil a dispute.

Our sages distinguished between two kinds of conflicts, as the quote from Mishna Avot above suggests. The dispute for the sake of Heaven, they explain, is one for the sake of truth. The other is for the sake of victory, power and personal gain.

Though, as shall be pointed out, both disputes were “not for the sake of Heaven.” They originate from entirely different motives and circumstances.

Shelach Lecha chronicles the story of the twelve spies that Moshe sent to scout the promised land prior to entering it. Upon their return, they reported to Moshe, and to the Children of Yisrael, “the land to which you sent us, does flow with milk and honey. But the people who live there are powerful, and the cities are fortified and very large.” They went on to describe its inhabitants as giants and extinguished any hope of overcoming them and conquering the land.

One of the spies, Calev ben Yefuneh tried to challenge the other spies and declared, “We should all go up and take possession of the land for we can certainly do it.” But to no avail. The other spies, eventually, succeeded in inciting the members of the community. “If only, we had died in Egypt! Or in the wilderness,” they lamented to Moshe and Aharon. “Why is the Lord bringing us to this land only to let us fall by the sword? Wouldn’t be better for us to go back to Egypt?” Some even call for a rebellion, “we should choose a leader and go back to Egypt.”

Calev ben Yefunneh and Yehoshua ben Nun, the only two spies who remained loyal to G-d’s plan, tear their clothes in agony and keep begging the community to have faith and trust G-d. Their calls, however, fell on deaf ears and threats to stone them were heard.

G-d’s punishment of the rebellious members of the community did not linger. “In the wilderness your bodies shall fall, every one of you, twenty years or older, who was counted in the census and who has grumbled against me. Not one of you… except Calev ben Yefunneh and Yehoshua ben Nun.” As for your children,…I will being them in to enjoy the Land you have rejected… For forty years, one year for each of the days you explored the Land, you will suffer for your sins and know what it is like to have you against me.” (Bamidbar 14:29-34).

Unlike the previous dispute, Korach’s clash with Moshe arose from his opposition to the appointments and role assignments for serving G-d which were made within Moshe’s family, upon the directives of G-d. They included selecting Moshe’s brother, Aharon, as High Priest and giving preference to some members of the tribe of Levi for high-ranking positions. Korach refused to accept it arguing that after Mount Sinai, “The whole community is holy, every one of them, and the lord is with them” (Bamidbar 16:3). Korach even went further to doubt Moshe claiming that he made those appointments arbitrarily and not upon G-d’s edict.

Moshe put Korach’s claim to the test. Naturally, he and his devotees failed. Their punishment for challenging G-d and their contemptuous attitude towards His decree was that “the ground opened its mouth and swallowed them and their households, and all those associated with Korach” (Bamidbar 16:28-34).

In his article “Times of Fear,” where he discusses the sin of the spies, Rabbi Sacks, notes that the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, asked, “How could ten of the spies have come back with a demoralizing defeating report? They had seen with their own eyes how G-d had sent a series of plagues that brought Egypt, the strongest and longest-lived of all empires of the ancient world to its knees. Egypt was far stronger than the Canaanites, Perrizites, Jebusites and other minor kingdoms that they would have to confront in conquering the Land. Nor was this an ancient memory. It had happened not much more than a year before.”

According to him, the spies were not afraid of failure, they were afraid of success. While wandering in the desert, the Yisraelites were provided with food, manna from Heaven and water from miraculous wells. They were constantly surrounded and cloaked by the holiness of the Shechinah and lived close to G-d.

When they enter the Land, though, they would have to engage in battles, provide for themselves and worry about many temptations of the mundane world. In other words, they would end up being just another nation like any other nation.

The “mistake of the spies was the mistake of very holy men”, explains Rabbi Sacks. Ten of them sought to preserve the kind of life they experienced in the desert where they could find G-d easily, rely on Him to provide for them and fight their wars for them. “They wanted to spend their lives in the closest proximity to G-d. What they did not understand was that G-d seeks, in the Hasidic phrase, ‘a dwelling in the lower worlds.’ One of the great differences between Judaism and other religions is that while others seek to lift people to heaven, Judaism seeks to bring heaven down to earth. They should have known that G-d had intended for us for us to engage with the world, to heal its fractured parts and spread light. This was their sin. They misled the people, and thus steered them into the hands of a serious conflict, the kind that the Mishnah categorized as “not for the sake of Heaven.”

When addressing the second conflict, the one generated by Korach and his followers, Rabbi Sacks asserts that, “ if you want to understand resentments, listen to what people accuse others of, and you will then know what they themselves want.” That is precisely what Korach, and his faction wanted. They wanted to be leaders. They wanted power. And if there is a dispute that is spawned over desire for control and power, I doubt that there is anyone who would suggest that it is “a dispute for Heaven’s sake.”