There is a humorous anecdote I read as a boy that reflected disparagingly on liberal Judaism. A woman came to a Reform rabbi with a 'shayla', a halachic question.
She said " Rabbi on my stove I had a pot of milk and a pot of chicken soup cooking next to each other. The pot of milk boiled over and some of the hot milk fell into the chicken soup. What do I do?" The rabbi reflected a moment and then told her, "You must throw out the pot of milk." The woman was astonished. She said, But
Rabbi it was the milk that fell into the soup!". "Yes" the rabbi said "exactly! It was deffinitely the milk's fault."
The reason the story is funny is that we cannot apply moral right and wrong in the adjudication of ritual law. Halacha is not about fault and fairness, at least not in regards to Torah prohibitions. But that is not to say the Torah does not take into account issues of fairness and fault. On the contrary at the outset of this week's parsha we have example of just such a law built on doing the fair!
The Torah provides us with an interesting scenario to reveal a law of inheritance.
If a man is married to two wives, one whom he loves and the other whom he despises, the Torah tells him that he may not give the extra portion of inheritance reserved for the eldest son to the son born to the beloved wife at the expense of the true first born, a child of the wife he hates. He must give the double share to the true 'b'chor', first born, even if he is not the child of the woman he loves.
We may well ask what is the Torah teaching us here? To tell us the first born always gets the extra share no matter the father's personal preference, we don't need the whole story of the two wives! The Torah seems to want to tell us something beyond the particular law of inheritance and impart a value, one we can only glean from the story imparted.
Moreover the Seforno and other commentators raise an interesting question here. They wonder, in light of the Torah law, how is it that Yaakov gave a double portion to Yosef, the son of the beloved wife, Rachel, and took it a way from Re'uvain, the wife of the less loved wife, Leah. His actions seem contrary to the command here given. Even though he lived prior to the giving of the Torah, we are told that Yaakov anticipated its laws and already kept them. Why here did he do otherwise?
The Seforno answers our last question by making an important distinction between the case the Torah gives and the story of Yaakov and the birthright. The Torah indeed forbids taking away the inheritance of the first born under all circumstances.
But the case it gives is one where depriving the first born of his share would not only be a ritual violation of the laws of inheritance but a moral lapse.
The fact that the first born here is the son of the despised wife is not his fault.
To take away his share would not only be a ritual violation but a moral sin. The son should not pay the price of the enmity between his father and mother!
In the case of Yaakov, indeed he took away the double portion from Re'uvain but not because he was the child of the less loved wife, but because of his sin and personal lapses. The Torah already had told us how Re'uvain had inappropriately rearranged his father's conjugal bed after the death of Rachel. That Re'uvain lost the 'b'chora' was his doing and his alone.
While that too is forbidden to us now once the Torah law was given, meaning, we cannot deprive the first born of his rightful inheritance because of a lapse in judgement or some wrongful act. Nonetheless, Yaakov did not violate the moral intent of the Torah, only its ritual law since he did not take something from Re'uvain for which he was not at fault.
Once we recognize that the law of the two wives and the son born of the despised is teaching us a value as well as a ritual law of inheritance, we can take important personal lessons. How often do we dump our anger, frustration, impatience where it does not belong? How many times have we taken hostile feelings we feel for one person and displayed the resentment to someone entirely not at fault?
Parents bring angry feelings generated at the work place home and show impatience and worse to their children. Husbands and wives put on one another displaced resentments and negative feelings that neither has earned but somehow must absorb.
Over and over we get angry at institutions, perhaps a whole Shule to the point of leaving or withdrawing because we are upset at the rabbi or the gabbai. Does the organization deserve our anger and its consequence?
If we look at our lives carefully we will find that so much of the negative feelings we share are directed at the wrong people. Our attitudes confuse the other as much as ourselves. They cannot really understand why?
The Torah this week is teaching us that if we have a problem with our spouse take it up with him/her. Don't make the children pay the price! And that is true with all our feelings of frustration, disappointment and resentment. We need to take our feelings to the people who engendered them in us. We need to direct our emotional responses back to the source that brought them about!
"It's not my fault" may not be a complaint the pot of chicken soup may make to escape being tossed as unkosher. But it is a legitimate complaint when others we love or are responsible to feel unduly put upon by our behaviors.
Taking our feeling back to their source is a good paradigm for living. It is a way of being that would surely engender the blessng and gratitude of others, who so often feel, correctly, that they are not at fault.
Shabbat Shalom
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
"You Could Have Been Nicer!"
Some years ago I saw the film "Mr. Saturday Night". The main character was a Jewish comedian and the film told the story of his life which included a significant rise and fall. This comedian had a brother,Stan, who was not particularly talented. Stan spent all his working life as his older brother's manager, go'fer, and emotional support. Near the movie's close, Stan, who had been quiet all his life in the face of his older brother's tediousness and tantrums, displayed some well earned resentment. Seeing his disgust the older brother said "I didn't take your life Stan. I gave you one!" Stan repied, "Yeah but you could have been nicer."
This Shabbat in the parsha of Shoftim we find many fascinating laws. One that intrigued me this year is the prohibition of 'baal tashchit', which forbids us from destroying things that might otherwise have benifit. In example, if I have a piece of clothing that is wearable but I am no longer interested in it, it is forbidden for me to rip it up. I need to make effort to give it to others who might have use from it. The same is true of trashing food that could otherwise be eaten.
We derive the law of 'baal tashchit' from the Torah's law of conduct in the event of a seige. The Torah teaches that if the nation makes war on a city and lays seige to it, we are forbidden from cutting down trees that bear fruit to use the wood in the service of our military agenda. We may only cut down trees that are not fruit bearing for these purposes. The reason being that the fruit tree serves a larger purpose than to aid us in our current conflict. It would be 'baal tashchit', an act of destruction to cut it down, even though its for a worthwhille purpose, that is to defeat an enemy, if we have an alternative source for the wood.
On reflection, the context in which the Torah provides the law of 'baal taschit' is as compelling as the law itself. Think about it. Here we are speaking of war, a city under seige. A whole world is about to be put to ruin, homes sacked, institutions laid waste, a society demolished. And we have not yet talked about the human life that will be lost through hunger, disease and the sword. In the context of so much destruction, "hashchata', what sense does it make to talk about preserving a fruit tree? What meaning can the saving of a fruit tree have in the face of so much loss?
The answer is that the Torah is teaching us a powerful idea. Yes, we are going to war. Yes, it may be justified and in the national interest. And yes, we will cause huge havoc for a people in the service of our agenda. But how we do something is as important as what we do. And even if we need to destroy we need to do so in such a way as minimize the damage. That which must be demolished indeed must. But that gives us no excuse to be callous regards to even the smallest thing that has use and can be spared.
The value that the Torah is imparting to us is that the way we do something matters as much as what we do and maybe more. So often we judge ourselves and others, the worthiness of our lives, on the basis of what we have done. Have we accomplished? Are we successful? When we measure ourselves it is by the yardstick of achievement. And even in the spiritual realm typically our religiosity is determined by the observances we take on. How 'frume' we are is a product of how much of our hair is covered or what level of supervision we require for the kashrut of our meat. When we feel we need to improve what do we do? Typically we take on a new 'çhumra', an added stringency. We forbid to ourselves something we previously allowed or commit to a new act of observance.
But all that misses the point. The measure of our life needs to be in terms of the quality of what we do not the quantity. Focusing on the "what" rather than the "how" only gets us to entrench the mediocrity rather than move us to excellence! On the contrary, focusing on the what allows us to stay the same with a new behavior! We don't have to do the hard work of change.
The Talmud already taught us long ago that one can do the act of honoring his/her parent, provide them with the finest, and yet do it in a way that belittles the parent and is in effect disrespect!
Alternatively one can provide little for his/her parent and yet do it in such a way as to show them honor so as to earn him/her the highest reward in the world everlasting.
Quality of our deeds matters in many ways more than quantity. Yet most of us spend our lives focused on the form. Like the protagonist in Mr Saturday Night, indeed we do so much...but we could have been nicer! And, in the end, if we could have been nicer we ruin so much of the good we do!
This is the month of Elul. We are called to reflect on our lives.I suggest that its a mistake to simply make a balance sheet and tally up the good versus the bad, mitzvah over aveira. We need to look at the quality of our actions, how we do the things we do.
In the end I can always find excuses for why I did not get something done in the course of my life.
But I will have little means to explain why I was not more loving to my wife, family, friends, community, and G-d in the things I did do!
My fear is not that I will not have done enough. Rather my fear is that someone who matters to me will say of me, "Yeah, but you could have been nicer".
Shabbat Shalom
This Shabbat in the parsha of Shoftim we find many fascinating laws. One that intrigued me this year is the prohibition of 'baal tashchit', which forbids us from destroying things that might otherwise have benifit. In example, if I have a piece of clothing that is wearable but I am no longer interested in it, it is forbidden for me to rip it up. I need to make effort to give it to others who might have use from it. The same is true of trashing food that could otherwise be eaten.
We derive the law of 'baal tashchit' from the Torah's law of conduct in the event of a seige. The Torah teaches that if the nation makes war on a city and lays seige to it, we are forbidden from cutting down trees that bear fruit to use the wood in the service of our military agenda. We may only cut down trees that are not fruit bearing for these purposes. The reason being that the fruit tree serves a larger purpose than to aid us in our current conflict. It would be 'baal tashchit', an act of destruction to cut it down, even though its for a worthwhille purpose, that is to defeat an enemy, if we have an alternative source for the wood.
On reflection, the context in which the Torah provides the law of 'baal taschit' is as compelling as the law itself. Think about it. Here we are speaking of war, a city under seige. A whole world is about to be put to ruin, homes sacked, institutions laid waste, a society demolished. And we have not yet talked about the human life that will be lost through hunger, disease and the sword. In the context of so much destruction, "hashchata', what sense does it make to talk about preserving a fruit tree? What meaning can the saving of a fruit tree have in the face of so much loss?
The answer is that the Torah is teaching us a powerful idea. Yes, we are going to war. Yes, it may be justified and in the national interest. And yes, we will cause huge havoc for a people in the service of our agenda. But how we do something is as important as what we do. And even if we need to destroy we need to do so in such a way as minimize the damage. That which must be demolished indeed must. But that gives us no excuse to be callous regards to even the smallest thing that has use and can be spared.
The value that the Torah is imparting to us is that the way we do something matters as much as what we do and maybe more. So often we judge ourselves and others, the worthiness of our lives, on the basis of what we have done. Have we accomplished? Are we successful? When we measure ourselves it is by the yardstick of achievement. And even in the spiritual realm typically our religiosity is determined by the observances we take on. How 'frume' we are is a product of how much of our hair is covered or what level of supervision we require for the kashrut of our meat. When we feel we need to improve what do we do? Typically we take on a new 'çhumra', an added stringency. We forbid to ourselves something we previously allowed or commit to a new act of observance.
But all that misses the point. The measure of our life needs to be in terms of the quality of what we do not the quantity. Focusing on the "what" rather than the "how" only gets us to entrench the mediocrity rather than move us to excellence! On the contrary, focusing on the what allows us to stay the same with a new behavior! We don't have to do the hard work of change.
The Talmud already taught us long ago that one can do the act of honoring his/her parent, provide them with the finest, and yet do it in a way that belittles the parent and is in effect disrespect!
Alternatively one can provide little for his/her parent and yet do it in such a way as to show them honor so as to earn him/her the highest reward in the world everlasting.
Quality of our deeds matters in many ways more than quantity. Yet most of us spend our lives focused on the form. Like the protagonist in Mr Saturday Night, indeed we do so much...but we could have been nicer! And, in the end, if we could have been nicer we ruin so much of the good we do!
This is the month of Elul. We are called to reflect on our lives.I suggest that its a mistake to simply make a balance sheet and tally up the good versus the bad, mitzvah over aveira. We need to look at the quality of our actions, how we do the things we do.
In the end I can always find excuses for why I did not get something done in the course of my life.
But I will have little means to explain why I was not more loving to my wife, family, friends, community, and G-d in the things I did do!
My fear is not that I will not have done enough. Rather my fear is that someone who matters to me will say of me, "Yeah, but you could have been nicer".
Shabbat Shalom
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
A World Without Hate
"And you shall love your friend as yourself"(Vayikra 19:18). Rabbi Akiva said, "This is the great principle of the Torah".
In truth, though we know loving may be the ideal feeling we should have for the other, first we need to tolerate others, especially those different from ourselves.
Even before the Torah gives us the commandment "Love your friend", there is the imperative, often easier spoken than achieved, "Do not hate your brother in your heart."
We live with all kinds of intolerances, and frequently harbor secret animosities.The smart struggle to tolerate the dimwitted, the competent resent the inept,the physically gifted are embarrassed by the uncoordinated. At work, at home,in the street, we typically treat people who are not as "beautiful' as us as if they had chosen their looks. Schoolchildren pick on their "nerdy" or "fat" classmates and their behavior does not always mature in time. It simply becomes more subtle.
The challenge remains: how do we develop tolerance for those different and, at times, opposite from us, a tolerance that not only permits them to exist but invites them to belong and to share in community?
The Torah this week in the parsha of Re'eh gives us a clue. In commanding the Jew to give charity the verse in the Torah ends "...for there will never cease to be poor in the land." Rashi notes that this comment seems to contradict an earlier promise that as long as Israel observes the Sabbatical year "there will be no poor among you for Hashem will bless you in the land He gives to you."
The Chatam Sofer explains that giving tzedaka requires compassionand empathy. But one must not relate so closely to the fate of the poor that he genuinely fears becoming poor himself. If that happens, he will actually be less generous. Over-identification can make one insecure in his/her owm circumstances and therefore less forthcoming.
The Chatam Sofer then translates G-d's promise and blessing in a unique way. The second verse we quoted is not meant to say there will no longer be poor in reality. The Torah already tells us that there will always be poor. Rather it should be understood, "There shall be no poor within you." Poverty must always exist, but the challenge is to give without fear of poverty for oneself, and therfore be generous.
The Chatam Sofer's insight corresponds to what we know about intolerance. Intolerance is born out of fear. That which I am afraid of for myself I resent in others. The thin person disdains the obese because s/he is afraid of becoming fat him/herself. This over-identification with others causes me to want to distance myself, often through impatience and disdain.
The challenge for all of us is to embrace this notion that "there will be no poor within you." We need to remain secure in our differences from others. If I am smart I will remain smart. If I am competent such is my gift. Others who are not like me will not jeopardize my talents and abilities.
Recognizing this allows me to be interested in people different from me, rather than feel threatened by them. It provides me not only with the tools to fulfill the mitzva "And you shall not hate your brother in your heart". It allows me to fulfill the ideal voiced in Avot to "learn from everyone".
Most important this recognition fosters a community of inclusiveness, where we all fully belong, with and because of our differences.
Shabbat Shalom
In truth, though we know loving may be the ideal feeling we should have for the other, first we need to tolerate others, especially those different from ourselves.
Even before the Torah gives us the commandment "Love your friend", there is the imperative, often easier spoken than achieved, "Do not hate your brother in your heart."
We live with all kinds of intolerances, and frequently harbor secret animosities.The smart struggle to tolerate the dimwitted, the competent resent the inept,the physically gifted are embarrassed by the uncoordinated. At work, at home,in the street, we typically treat people who are not as "beautiful' as us as if they had chosen their looks. Schoolchildren pick on their "nerdy" or "fat" classmates and their behavior does not always mature in time. It simply becomes more subtle.
The challenge remains: how do we develop tolerance for those different and, at times, opposite from us, a tolerance that not only permits them to exist but invites them to belong and to share in community?
The Torah this week in the parsha of Re'eh gives us a clue. In commanding the Jew to give charity the verse in the Torah ends "...for there will never cease to be poor in the land." Rashi notes that this comment seems to contradict an earlier promise that as long as Israel observes the Sabbatical year "there will be no poor among you for Hashem will bless you in the land He gives to you."
The Chatam Sofer explains that giving tzedaka requires compassionand empathy. But one must not relate so closely to the fate of the poor that he genuinely fears becoming poor himself. If that happens, he will actually be less generous. Over-identification can make one insecure in his/her owm circumstances and therefore less forthcoming.
The Chatam Sofer then translates G-d's promise and blessing in a unique way. The second verse we quoted is not meant to say there will no longer be poor in reality. The Torah already tells us that there will always be poor. Rather it should be understood, "There shall be no poor within you." Poverty must always exist, but the challenge is to give without fear of poverty for oneself, and therfore be generous.
The Chatam Sofer's insight corresponds to what we know about intolerance. Intolerance is born out of fear. That which I am afraid of for myself I resent in others. The thin person disdains the obese because s/he is afraid of becoming fat him/herself. This over-identification with others causes me to want to distance myself, often through impatience and disdain.
The challenge for all of us is to embrace this notion that "there will be no poor within you." We need to remain secure in our differences from others. If I am smart I will remain smart. If I am competent such is my gift. Others who are not like me will not jeopardize my talents and abilities.
Recognizing this allows me to be interested in people different from me, rather than feel threatened by them. It provides me not only with the tools to fulfill the mitzva "And you shall not hate your brother in your heart". It allows me to fulfill the ideal voiced in Avot to "learn from everyone".
Most important this recognition fosters a community of inclusiveness, where we all fully belong, with and because of our differences.
Shabbat Shalom
Thursday, August 2, 2012
The Road to Comfort
Elie Weisel in his "Souls On Fire" told of meeting for the first time a hasid of Breslov in the Nazi labor camp. He described the hasid as full of hope no matter how awful the circumstances and doing all in his power to provide hope to others. Weisel wrote "One night someone asked him: "What would your Rebbe Nachman say to the thousands of men, women and children who live and die here in one place in one night?
Who could answer their question?" There was silence and then a whispered sigh escaped his painfully twisted mouth:"Who says that we are a question? And what if our death were answer?"
This Shabbat is called "Shabbat Nachamu", "The Sabbath of Consolation". Each year it falls directly after Tisha B'av, our national day or mourning. We read in the haftorah the words of the prophet Yeshayahu "Comfort ye comfort ye my People so says Hashem your G-d." Where is the "comfort"? Nothing has changed. Our national circumstances remain as they were and yet in the promise G-d makes us of future comfort we already feel relief.
It is as if Tisha B'av itself, the time of overwhelming sadness provides the seeds of the healing and redemption.
And indeed it does. Truth be told, while every person endures great loss in life there is no 'nechama' for the indvidual in this world. Our losses are real. We sustain tragedies and disappointments of enormous magnitude. Who has not had a story that included gut wrenching suffering either emotional or physical or both, whether to them or someone they love. Life is hard and so often cruel. We may spend a lifetime trying to make sense out of the unfathomable. More often than not our only real way of coping is to try to forget the 'bad' so as to put it out of our mind. To think on it only causes us unsettledness. Forgetting is not the same as finding comfort. Personal comfort eludes us.
In marking Tisha B'av we choose not to forget the tragedies but on the contrary, we choose to remember them. Indeed we choose to do more than remember them. We choose to re-enter them. How dare we? How dare we re-live the unbearable, re-enter the intolerable. How can we relive that which most everyone else would prefer to forget so that they could live and function?
The answer is that true, if we were processing personal loss, we could not find comfort and remembering the tragic only fosters pain. It is for this reason Holocaust survivors for so long remained silent to their experience. To tell the stories would take them back into the Kingdom of Night. With no comfort available the only alternative to be able to cope is to forget.
On Tisha B'av however we did not grieve as individuals for personal losses, no matter how profound. No, we grieved as a nation and for the losses sustained through time. Yes. there are many personal strories we recall of people and places, but all in the context of our national drama. The indvidual horror no matter how compelling is subsumed within the odyssey of our people. What is unavailable to the singular person is indeed available to us as part of the Jewish People. On Tisha B'av as we become connected in our losses to the tragedies of the millenia and unite with our fellow Jews we become able to remember, indeed relive, and on the other side of that find comfort...We find a comfort in knowing that each saga no matter how sad does not stand alone. Rather it is part of a larger story and as the Breslover Hasid said to his campmate "what if our death is an answer?"
When the prophet offers the words of comfort as found in the haftorah he does not talk to the indvidual. In the name of G-d he says "Comfort ye comfort ye my People".
It is only once we become one with the story and destiny of Israel that comfort becomes possible. Only then can we can experience even the saddest moments as part of a purposeful journey that all of us particpate in rather than isolated moments in time both empty and unfair.
If the Holocaust survivors were silent for so many years I suspect it was because they did not yet feel their story was our story. We were not yet ready to hear the stories. We did not yet know we could. We thought, perhaps better to forget that which cannot be contained and comforted. Only after we as a people embraced the Holocaust as a significant component of our collective history and insisted that each and every indiviudal horror belonged to the nation's conscience did it become possible to remember and indeed relive and find a modicum of consolation.
The road to comfort is a challenging one. We need to resist the temptation to take the easy way out and forget. To reach comfort we must not travel alone. Private comfort is not available to us. To contain the tragic in our lives we must belong.
We must place the tragic, no matter how personal, within the drama of our people.
Is it any wonder then that Ashekenazic Jews comfort the mourner sitting shiva though the loss personal with the words "May G-d comfort you together with the mourners of Zion".
Shabbat Shalom
Who could answer their question?" There was silence and then a whispered sigh escaped his painfully twisted mouth:"Who says that we are a question? And what if our death were answer?"
This Shabbat is called "Shabbat Nachamu", "The Sabbath of Consolation". Each year it falls directly after Tisha B'av, our national day or mourning. We read in the haftorah the words of the prophet Yeshayahu "Comfort ye comfort ye my People so says Hashem your G-d." Where is the "comfort"? Nothing has changed. Our national circumstances remain as they were and yet in the promise G-d makes us of future comfort we already feel relief.
It is as if Tisha B'av itself, the time of overwhelming sadness provides the seeds of the healing and redemption.
And indeed it does. Truth be told, while every person endures great loss in life there is no 'nechama' for the indvidual in this world. Our losses are real. We sustain tragedies and disappointments of enormous magnitude. Who has not had a story that included gut wrenching suffering either emotional or physical or both, whether to them or someone they love. Life is hard and so often cruel. We may spend a lifetime trying to make sense out of the unfathomable. More often than not our only real way of coping is to try to forget the 'bad' so as to put it out of our mind. To think on it only causes us unsettledness. Forgetting is not the same as finding comfort. Personal comfort eludes us.
In marking Tisha B'av we choose not to forget the tragedies but on the contrary, we choose to remember them. Indeed we choose to do more than remember them. We choose to re-enter them. How dare we? How dare we re-live the unbearable, re-enter the intolerable. How can we relive that which most everyone else would prefer to forget so that they could live and function?
The answer is that true, if we were processing personal loss, we could not find comfort and remembering the tragic only fosters pain. It is for this reason Holocaust survivors for so long remained silent to their experience. To tell the stories would take them back into the Kingdom of Night. With no comfort available the only alternative to be able to cope is to forget.
On Tisha B'av however we did not grieve as individuals for personal losses, no matter how profound. No, we grieved as a nation and for the losses sustained through time. Yes. there are many personal strories we recall of people and places, but all in the context of our national drama. The indvidual horror no matter how compelling is subsumed within the odyssey of our people. What is unavailable to the singular person is indeed available to us as part of the Jewish People. On Tisha B'av as we become connected in our losses to the tragedies of the millenia and unite with our fellow Jews we become able to remember, indeed relive, and on the other side of that find comfort...We find a comfort in knowing that each saga no matter how sad does not stand alone. Rather it is part of a larger story and as the Breslover Hasid said to his campmate "what if our death is an answer?"
When the prophet offers the words of comfort as found in the haftorah he does not talk to the indvidual. In the name of G-d he says "Comfort ye comfort ye my People".
It is only once we become one with the story and destiny of Israel that comfort becomes possible. Only then can we can experience even the saddest moments as part of a purposeful journey that all of us particpate in rather than isolated moments in time both empty and unfair.
If the Holocaust survivors were silent for so many years I suspect it was because they did not yet feel their story was our story. We were not yet ready to hear the stories. We did not yet know we could. We thought, perhaps better to forget that which cannot be contained and comforted. Only after we as a people embraced the Holocaust as a significant component of our collective history and insisted that each and every indiviudal horror belonged to the nation's conscience did it become possible to remember and indeed relive and find a modicum of consolation.
The road to comfort is a challenging one. We need to resist the temptation to take the easy way out and forget. To reach comfort we must not travel alone. Private comfort is not available to us. To contain the tragic in our lives we must belong.
We must place the tragic, no matter how personal, within the drama of our people.
Is it any wonder then that Ashekenazic Jews comfort the mourner sitting shiva though the loss personal with the words "May G-d comfort you together with the mourners of Zion".
Shabbat Shalom
Thursday, July 26, 2012
To Learn vs To Admire
Last week the Jewish community both here in Israel and around the world lost a Torah giant. Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv, the revered Halachic authority and inspirational spiritual leader to a generation of Torah observant Jews passed away.
In Jerusalem, his funeral,though only hours from his death and virtually in the middle of the night, brought together some 300,000 mourners. The tributes for this Gaon came from every segment of society, from secular politicians to Hassidic rebbes. While not everyone always agreed with Rav Elyashiv, he was universally respected and admired.
During these days since his passing everyone seems keen to tell stories of Rav Elyashiv's personal greatness. He was oh so humble and self-effacing. He died at 102all the while self sufficient. He preferred to live his life in a small one bedroom apartment and sleep next to the refrigerator than to move into a more comfortable flat that his devotees and family wanted to rent for him. For more than half a century he woke each morning at 2:00AM after a brief night's sleep to begin his daily Torah study. He was tireless in his committment to meet with and offer advice to those seeking his counsel and blessing.His love for Torah knew no bounds.
But all that being said something troubles me about the legacy of this great rav.
Yes I heard the accounts of Rav Elyashiv's extraordinary service to G-d, Torah and Israel. Yes, I believe he posessed wonderful character traits of humility, kindness, and devotion. The problem I have is that no one has shared anything that Rav Elyashev struggled with, I means a personal struggle.
You and I battle our yetzer hara constantly. From dawn to dusk and beyond we are fighting our inclinations to do the wrong. Whether it be making it to minyan in the morning or davening with kavana or controlling ourselves from speaking lashon hara, and any number of other pitfalls we are constantly struggling to avoid sin.
Did Rav Elyashev have those struggles? Are there stories that someone can tell me about them?
Admire Rav Elyashiv? of course! But can I learn from him? I can only learn to over-come my own issues from others who battle similarly. From their struggle, their successes and failures I learn. Only someone like me can be an example for me.
Their success shows me what I may yet accomplish. Still more, how they succeeded can become a model for me. But if someone has not had my struggle how can they inspire me.It might well be that if they were in my shoes they would do no better than me.
Only from someone who has walked the same road and made it to the other side can I really take hope.
This week we begin the fifth book of the Torah, Devarim, with a portion by the same name. The Book of Devarim is a narrative. Much of it, contains Moshe's retelling of the story of the wilderness journey for a new generation about to enter the Promised Land. This week's reading is an example of that. Moshe recalls for the People how they got themselves to this point. He reminds them of what happened some 38 yrs earlier as their parents were on the threshold of entering Israel. He recounts the story of the report of the spies and the aftermath as the nation in fear and panic rejected the land, thereby bringing about their doom in the desert.
The question we might ask is why does Moshe need to review all the neagative components of the legacy of the generation past. He is talking to the children of that generation. Do they need to be reminded of their parent's flaws. Every person we eulogize has shortcomings. We don't typically mention them at a funeral. We only focus on the positives. Why does Moshe insist on bringing up the mistakes of the past?
The answer is that the Torah long preceeded George Santayana in recognizing that "those who do not learn from the mistakes of the past are doomed to repeat them." Moshe wanted Israel,the new generation, to know their history very well and to confront the mistakes of their parents,difficult though that may be.
Moreover Moshe wanted those who were about to enter the Land to know that their opportunity to take posession of Canaan was a direct result of lessons learned.
Moshe reminded them of the cowardice of their ancestors and its consequences.He then told them that precisely because of the mistakes past and its cost you rose above your fears.You conquered Sihon and Og, two powerful monarchs, every bit as intimidating as the kings of Canaan. You learned from the past that fear only brings despair and aimlessness. You learned that in life there is no alternative to courage.
And so now you are at the doorstep to a new future.
The Book of Devarim teaches over and over that we can grow only by learning from the experiences of others who had struggles similar to ours. Angels can inspire us but they cannot be our teachers. Our teachers need to be mortal like us, flawed like us, those who struggle like us. It is from them and their wherewithall to triumph despite the challenges that we draw inspiration make progress.
Once when I was a boy my father caught me in a lie. It was a pretty serious lie.
He was upset with me. When he repremanded me he said "Yisrael you must never ever lie again. I never lied. My father never lied. And his father never lied."
He then took out a Chumash and made me swear on it that I would never lie again.
Many parents correct their children in a similar fashion. While perhaps not so dramatic, they tell their child that they never would do the wrong their child did.
They say, as it were, "how could you!". And insist the child take the excellence of the parent as the model to get it right.
The problem with that approach is that it is not the way we learn. When others teach us and give us hope to improve it is from their struggle not their excellence.
It would be better for a parent to say, "You know I used to have a similar problem. I was not always so well behaved. And once I did this and this...But I realized...and I managed over time to change..." The more real the parent can make his/her account the more power it has to influence the young.
That's the message Devarim really is teaching us. Only by dint of powerful examples of failure and success can we learn and believe we can change.
The truth is just as Rav Elyashiv had a greatness, each of us has a greatness inside...a greatness that is uniquely ours.
Each of us is called upon in life to realize our unique greatness.
Maybe it is to be a great father or mother, or a great friend or whatever the call of our life. And it is not easy for sure. Mediocrity is oh so tempting.
To achieve our greatness we need to learn from the challenges of others, like Rav Elyashev, what they battled to attain their greatness, as much as we need to know their results.
Tell me of your accomplishments and you earn my admiration. Tell me of your struggle and you become my teacher!
Shabbat Shalom
In Jerusalem, his funeral,though only hours from his death and virtually in the middle of the night, brought together some 300,000 mourners. The tributes for this Gaon came from every segment of society, from secular politicians to Hassidic rebbes. While not everyone always agreed with Rav Elyashiv, he was universally respected and admired.
During these days since his passing everyone seems keen to tell stories of Rav Elyashiv's personal greatness. He was oh so humble and self-effacing. He died at 102all the while self sufficient. He preferred to live his life in a small one bedroom apartment and sleep next to the refrigerator than to move into a more comfortable flat that his devotees and family wanted to rent for him. For more than half a century he woke each morning at 2:00AM after a brief night's sleep to begin his daily Torah study. He was tireless in his committment to meet with and offer advice to those seeking his counsel and blessing.His love for Torah knew no bounds.
But all that being said something troubles me about the legacy of this great rav.
Yes I heard the accounts of Rav Elyashiv's extraordinary service to G-d, Torah and Israel. Yes, I believe he posessed wonderful character traits of humility, kindness, and devotion. The problem I have is that no one has shared anything that Rav Elyashev struggled with, I means a personal struggle.
You and I battle our yetzer hara constantly. From dawn to dusk and beyond we are fighting our inclinations to do the wrong. Whether it be making it to minyan in the morning or davening with kavana or controlling ourselves from speaking lashon hara, and any number of other pitfalls we are constantly struggling to avoid sin.
Did Rav Elyashev have those struggles? Are there stories that someone can tell me about them?
Admire Rav Elyashiv? of course! But can I learn from him? I can only learn to over-come my own issues from others who battle similarly. From their struggle, their successes and failures I learn. Only someone like me can be an example for me.
Their success shows me what I may yet accomplish. Still more, how they succeeded can become a model for me. But if someone has not had my struggle how can they inspire me.It might well be that if they were in my shoes they would do no better than me.
Only from someone who has walked the same road and made it to the other side can I really take hope.
This week we begin the fifth book of the Torah, Devarim, with a portion by the same name. The Book of Devarim is a narrative. Much of it, contains Moshe's retelling of the story of the wilderness journey for a new generation about to enter the Promised Land. This week's reading is an example of that. Moshe recalls for the People how they got themselves to this point. He reminds them of what happened some 38 yrs earlier as their parents were on the threshold of entering Israel. He recounts the story of the report of the spies and the aftermath as the nation in fear and panic rejected the land, thereby bringing about their doom in the desert.
The question we might ask is why does Moshe need to review all the neagative components of the legacy of the generation past. He is talking to the children of that generation. Do they need to be reminded of their parent's flaws. Every person we eulogize has shortcomings. We don't typically mention them at a funeral. We only focus on the positives. Why does Moshe insist on bringing up the mistakes of the past?
The answer is that the Torah long preceeded George Santayana in recognizing that "those who do not learn from the mistakes of the past are doomed to repeat them." Moshe wanted Israel,the new generation, to know their history very well and to confront the mistakes of their parents,difficult though that may be.
Moreover Moshe wanted those who were about to enter the Land to know that their opportunity to take posession of Canaan was a direct result of lessons learned.
Moshe reminded them of the cowardice of their ancestors and its consequences.He then told them that precisely because of the mistakes past and its cost you rose above your fears.You conquered Sihon and Og, two powerful monarchs, every bit as intimidating as the kings of Canaan. You learned from the past that fear only brings despair and aimlessness. You learned that in life there is no alternative to courage.
And so now you are at the doorstep to a new future.
The Book of Devarim teaches over and over that we can grow only by learning from the experiences of others who had struggles similar to ours. Angels can inspire us but they cannot be our teachers. Our teachers need to be mortal like us, flawed like us, those who struggle like us. It is from them and their wherewithall to triumph despite the challenges that we draw inspiration make progress.
Once when I was a boy my father caught me in a lie. It was a pretty serious lie.
He was upset with me. When he repremanded me he said "Yisrael you must never ever lie again. I never lied. My father never lied. And his father never lied."
He then took out a Chumash and made me swear on it that I would never lie again.
Many parents correct their children in a similar fashion. While perhaps not so dramatic, they tell their child that they never would do the wrong their child did.
They say, as it were, "how could you!". And insist the child take the excellence of the parent as the model to get it right.
The problem with that approach is that it is not the way we learn. When others teach us and give us hope to improve it is from their struggle not their excellence.
It would be better for a parent to say, "You know I used to have a similar problem. I was not always so well behaved. And once I did this and this...But I realized...and I managed over time to change..." The more real the parent can make his/her account the more power it has to influence the young.
That's the message Devarim really is teaching us. Only by dint of powerful examples of failure and success can we learn and believe we can change.
The truth is just as Rav Elyashiv had a greatness, each of us has a greatness inside...a greatness that is uniquely ours.
Each of us is called upon in life to realize our unique greatness.
Maybe it is to be a great father or mother, or a great friend or whatever the call of our life. And it is not easy for sure. Mediocrity is oh so tempting.
To achieve our greatness we need to learn from the challenges of others, like Rav Elyashev, what they battled to attain their greatness, as much as we need to know their results.
Tell me of your accomplishments and you earn my admiration. Tell me of your struggle and you become my teacher!
Shabbat Shalom
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Embracing the Journey
Natan Sharansky wrote in his book "Fear No Evil", a memoir on his years in isolation in Soviet prison, that one thing kept him sane and hopeful through all his ordeal. Sharansky was able to create a community in his mind with idealists alive and dead throughout time who were committed enough to a cause that they persevered the worst human indignities. Though not physically connected to any of them he was now one with them and together they would persevere, a community of the spirit.
I recalled that powerful image this week as I reviewed the current parshiyot of Matot-Maasei. In part of the reading G-d commanded the Israelites to go to war with Midian in retaliation for their having seduced the Israel into idolatry. From each tribe one thousand men were chosen to go into battle. And with them God told Moshe to send Pinchas the son of Elazar the priest.
Rashi brings the medrash that gives several possible reasons why Pinchas was made to accompany the soldiers into war. You recall Pinchas was the hero of the last two weeks readings where we read how he saved the Israelites and stood up for the honor of the Divine when he slew Zimri, a prince of the tribe of Shimon and Cozbi, a princess of Midian for their brazen act of public immorality and idolatry. One of the reasons Rashi brings gave me pause. He said that Pinchas was sent into the fray because he had unfinished business with Midian. Pinchas,in tradition, was a decendent of Yosef from his mother's side. Yosef, as you will recall, when condemned by his brothers, was taken out of the pit and sold to Egypt by none other than a Midianite caravan. Now at last Pinchas would have opportunity to pay back the Midianites for that crime and so he was sent specifially to join the troops and to fight with the army of Israel.
This reason for Pinchas' place in the army seems fanciful at best. First the story with Yosef occurred some 250 years earlier, thats a long memory even for a zealot like Pinchas. Second why should a crime committed by a group of sojourners, a caravan, condemn a nation to punishment? The Midianites who sold Yosef were a random group of merchants. How is a whole people responsible for their actions? And still further, the Midianites who sold Yosef did not intend something personal. It was business as usual for them, buy and sell. Why now should Pinchas go to take revenge and make it personal, something it never was? And finally, Pinchas was only remotely connected to Yosef through ancestory on his mother' side. If anyone would take up Yosef's honor we would think it would be someone from the tribes of Menashe and Ephraim who are directly descendent and carry Yosef's name. Why Pinchas?
On reflection I think the medrash Rashi quotes is telling us something very intriguing, deeply insightful. Lets you and I think about this character Pinchas.
Pinchas had to cope with challenging circumstances. He was born into a family of priests but he was not one. And why? because when Aharon was annointed a kohain he and his four sons were annointed with him. One of them was Elazar, Pinchas's father.
Thereafter all the children of these kohanim would automatically be considered priests with the attendent rights, duties and privileges. Pinchas however was born prior to his father, Elazar's, annointing. He therefore was not made a kohain by birth, nor through the ritual that gave status to his elders. He was therefore left out. It was not until the episode we read about in the preceeding weeks that Pinchas, in reward for his zeal in the name of G-d, gets a special gift from G-d that engenders him a kohain..
So we might imagine that life was not easy for Pinchas growing up. His younger siblings, born after him, had title and responsibility he did not get. They served in the Temple. He could not. They might all sit around the table and eat the teruma, priestly gifts. He had to abstain. A non-kohain may not eat of these gifts.
He might well have wondered,"Is this really fair. Why wasn't I annointed with my father and uncles since I was already born? Why am I excluded?"
He would have been likely to have felt left out. On the one hand he was not really an ordinary Israelite since he was from the family of Aharon but he was not a priest yet either!
He would do well to have felt marginalized indeed with no natural community.
So with all that experience of marginalization and rejection did anything good come out? You bet! I would argue that it was this dynamic of Pinchas's life that made possible all his heroics. When all the establishment was paralyzed by the outrageous behavior of Zimri and Cozbi only Pinchas could find the inner resources to react. And why? because Pinchas never was part of the establishment, not as a leader nor as a follower. He had to chart his own course. And because he did not confrom to the pattern and felt an outsider he could break the mold and do something out of the box. Only Pinchas, one not a prisoner to conformity could take matters into his own hands and kill the prince and princess, thereby saving the nation.
And in the story of the war with Midian we find a similar dynamic. It is Pinchas who is called upon to redeem the violation done to Yosef all those years prior. More than anyone he knew what it meant to be an outsider like Yosef. He understood the pain Yosef carried through his life. He and only he could have community with Yosef and likely did when he, Pinchas, felt so isolated all those years. He had the same community with Yosef that Sharansky had with those with whom he identified, a community of the mind and spirit.
Yosef's story was not 250 years old to Pinchas. It was current and alive. Yosef was a mentor and support to Pinchas and very much a contemporary. We could imagine Yosef gave Pinchas hope when he felt so much on the margins and alone.
Pinchas was then eager and worthy to redeem his ancestors suffering at the hands of the Midianites. They shared a story in common.
Truth be told each of us has our own story of pain and disappointment. We all have had our journey with its attendent suffering. While I am not prepared to call suffering good. I think the story of Pinchas makes a compelling case to say that suffering is at the very least purposeful. If Pinchas had not had his journey with its challenge he would not have been able to become the hero he needed to be.
You and I have moments in life that we are called to, moments where, while others may be present, we alone have the capacity or sensitivity to respond.
For each of us, our journey provides us with a wisdom, a capacity, a passion that is unique to us. While we may have at times secretly cursed our fate, it has prepared us for our calling even as Pinchas's life prepared him for his.
We would do better to embrace our journey with its suffering and see how is has shaped us, helped make us who we are today.
If we are still alive there must yet be a mission for us to perform, one that only we are meant for and able to do!
And it is the very grist of our life, the stuff we would often rather forget, that makes our unique calling possible!
Shabbat Shalom
I recalled that powerful image this week as I reviewed the current parshiyot of Matot-Maasei. In part of the reading G-d commanded the Israelites to go to war with Midian in retaliation for their having seduced the Israel into idolatry. From each tribe one thousand men were chosen to go into battle. And with them God told Moshe to send Pinchas the son of Elazar the priest.
Rashi brings the medrash that gives several possible reasons why Pinchas was made to accompany the soldiers into war. You recall Pinchas was the hero of the last two weeks readings where we read how he saved the Israelites and stood up for the honor of the Divine when he slew Zimri, a prince of the tribe of Shimon and Cozbi, a princess of Midian for their brazen act of public immorality and idolatry. One of the reasons Rashi brings gave me pause. He said that Pinchas was sent into the fray because he had unfinished business with Midian. Pinchas,in tradition, was a decendent of Yosef from his mother's side. Yosef, as you will recall, when condemned by his brothers, was taken out of the pit and sold to Egypt by none other than a Midianite caravan. Now at last Pinchas would have opportunity to pay back the Midianites for that crime and so he was sent specifially to join the troops and to fight with the army of Israel.
This reason for Pinchas' place in the army seems fanciful at best. First the story with Yosef occurred some 250 years earlier, thats a long memory even for a zealot like Pinchas. Second why should a crime committed by a group of sojourners, a caravan, condemn a nation to punishment? The Midianites who sold Yosef were a random group of merchants. How is a whole people responsible for their actions? And still further, the Midianites who sold Yosef did not intend something personal. It was business as usual for them, buy and sell. Why now should Pinchas go to take revenge and make it personal, something it never was? And finally, Pinchas was only remotely connected to Yosef through ancestory on his mother' side. If anyone would take up Yosef's honor we would think it would be someone from the tribes of Menashe and Ephraim who are directly descendent and carry Yosef's name. Why Pinchas?
On reflection I think the medrash Rashi quotes is telling us something very intriguing, deeply insightful. Lets you and I think about this character Pinchas.
Pinchas had to cope with challenging circumstances. He was born into a family of priests but he was not one. And why? because when Aharon was annointed a kohain he and his four sons were annointed with him. One of them was Elazar, Pinchas's father.
Thereafter all the children of these kohanim would automatically be considered priests with the attendent rights, duties and privileges. Pinchas however was born prior to his father, Elazar's, annointing. He therefore was not made a kohain by birth, nor through the ritual that gave status to his elders. He was therefore left out. It was not until the episode we read about in the preceeding weeks that Pinchas, in reward for his zeal in the name of G-d, gets a special gift from G-d that engenders him a kohain..
So we might imagine that life was not easy for Pinchas growing up. His younger siblings, born after him, had title and responsibility he did not get. They served in the Temple. He could not. They might all sit around the table and eat the teruma, priestly gifts. He had to abstain. A non-kohain may not eat of these gifts.
He might well have wondered,"Is this really fair. Why wasn't I annointed with my father and uncles since I was already born? Why am I excluded?"
He would have been likely to have felt left out. On the one hand he was not really an ordinary Israelite since he was from the family of Aharon but he was not a priest yet either!
He would do well to have felt marginalized indeed with no natural community.
So with all that experience of marginalization and rejection did anything good come out? You bet! I would argue that it was this dynamic of Pinchas's life that made possible all his heroics. When all the establishment was paralyzed by the outrageous behavior of Zimri and Cozbi only Pinchas could find the inner resources to react. And why? because Pinchas never was part of the establishment, not as a leader nor as a follower. He had to chart his own course. And because he did not confrom to the pattern and felt an outsider he could break the mold and do something out of the box. Only Pinchas, one not a prisoner to conformity could take matters into his own hands and kill the prince and princess, thereby saving the nation.
And in the story of the war with Midian we find a similar dynamic. It is Pinchas who is called upon to redeem the violation done to Yosef all those years prior. More than anyone he knew what it meant to be an outsider like Yosef. He understood the pain Yosef carried through his life. He and only he could have community with Yosef and likely did when he, Pinchas, felt so isolated all those years. He had the same community with Yosef that Sharansky had with those with whom he identified, a community of the mind and spirit.
Yosef's story was not 250 years old to Pinchas. It was current and alive. Yosef was a mentor and support to Pinchas and very much a contemporary. We could imagine Yosef gave Pinchas hope when he felt so much on the margins and alone.
Pinchas was then eager and worthy to redeem his ancestors suffering at the hands of the Midianites. They shared a story in common.
Truth be told each of us has our own story of pain and disappointment. We all have had our journey with its attendent suffering. While I am not prepared to call suffering good. I think the story of Pinchas makes a compelling case to say that suffering is at the very least purposeful. If Pinchas had not had his journey with its challenge he would not have been able to become the hero he needed to be.
You and I have moments in life that we are called to, moments where, while others may be present, we alone have the capacity or sensitivity to respond.
For each of us, our journey provides us with a wisdom, a capacity, a passion that is unique to us. While we may have at times secretly cursed our fate, it has prepared us for our calling even as Pinchas's life prepared him for his.
We would do better to embrace our journey with its suffering and see how is has shaped us, helped make us who we are today.
If we are still alive there must yet be a mission for us to perform, one that only we are meant for and able to do!
And it is the very grist of our life, the stuff we would often rather forget, that makes our unique calling possible!
Shabbat Shalom
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Some Tough Talk
In Israel the whole country is abuzz with the issue of whether to draft Hareidim into the military or national service. The law which exempted the Hareidi Yeshiva students, who now number some 60,000, was found unconstitutional and will expire the end of this month. The majority of the citizenry of Israel has long felt it unfair that an exemption be given unconditionally to all who study Torah. They argue that the burden for the national defence must be shared equally. To that end, 20,000 young people gathered in the streets of Tel Aviv last Saturday night to call for an end to a privelege that makes those who serve, especially those who do reserve duty, feel like 'suckers' or what they call in modern Hebrew "freiyers" for making significant personal sacrifice while others get off free.
The Hareidi, or what is often called in America the 'black hat' community, is more than a little alarmed. The exemption for Bnai Torah from the military is as old as the Jewish State itself. They make the point (over and over) that the learning of Yeshiva boys is as much a part of the national defence as is the contribution of front line troops. Quoting traditional sources they argue that Torah protects us and any compromise of Torah learning endangers. Moreover, of course, they want to sit and learn and not be compelled to leave the bait medrash for any reason.
The battle lines are drawn. The drama is being acted out daily in the Knesset as efforts go on to draft a law that will set the norm for the future. Parties on both sides of the issue threaten to quit the coalition if their position is compromised.
Spokespersons from both the Hareidi Torah camp and from the more modern Israeli world have not been shy about expressing their sentiments, and all seem to have taken hard-line positions. No one seems ready to compromise.
It is in the context of this furor that I want to explore the parsha of this week, that of Pinchas, to see if it has anything to teach us.
You recall the portion begins with the aftermath of last week's compelling drama.
Many of the Israelites were seduced into idolatry by the daughters of Moab. G-d told Moshe to order that the elders kill all those who commit this grave sin, to hang them publically. At the same time, in response to G-d's wrath, a plague breaks out, with devestating consequences. It seems (according to the Ramban's understanding of the texts) that even before the Judges could put to death the sinners, a prince from the tribe of Shimon and a princess of Midian coupled in the presence of Moshe and the elders, thereby flaunting a defiance of the edict and the law.
Moshe became paralyzed by the outrage. The judges were now hesitant to carry out their mandate to kill and hang the sinners. It seemed all was in suspension. Yet the sins went on as did the plague.
It was into this void that Pinchas entered. He took matters into his own hands. In an act of zealotry he slew Zimri and Cozbi the prince and princess and restored the nation to its senses. In the opening of this week's parsha Pinchas is granted a special covenant of shalom from G-d Himself and an everlasting priesthood for his great act of zeal for the honor of the Divine.
What interested me as I explored this story this year was the reason G-d gives for bestowing the special gifts on Pinchas. G-d names not only the fact that Pinchas stood up for His honor. He also gives reason that because of Pinchas "...I did not entirely destroy the Children of Israel in my zealotry ." In other words, Pinchas's act of zealotry killing Zimri and Kozbi saved the nation from G-d's zealotry which would have resulted in their almost certain annihilation.
The question we might ask is why? Why did all Israel warrant destruction for the sins here of idolatry and lasciviousness? Those who committed the sins should be punished. But why the whole nation? What wrong did the nation do as a whole?
The answer is clear. If the People of Israel had been sufficiently invested in and committed to the honor of G-d the few could not been seduced into behaviors so repugnant. The would-be sinner needed to have a host environmnt that would tolerate their moral lapse. If Israel had been staunch in its revulsion to idolatry and intolerant of promiscuity with the heathen women no segment of the community would have dared to sin. That such evil happened in their midst condemns the nation as a whole even as it condemns the sinners. Both need repentence and a moral correction.
And why am I struck by this insight this year and this week? My sense is that it is deeply relevant to the current issues that so engage us. The Hareidi community is angry that its contribution to the Jewish State goes unrecognized. That so many want to draft Yeshiva students, in their eyes, reflects a lack of appreciation in the society as a whole for the value of Torah study, not only for the learner, but for the community. They say the problem is not with them but with the lack of true traditional Torah perspective in the largely secular nation.
But does that attitude of blaming the wayward one and exonerating the self really play? Lets get real. If the black hat Yeshiva world in Israel is thought of as apart and not sufficiently participating in the wellbeing of the whole, the army service issue is but an example and not the cause. The Hareidi Yeshiva world may say they are learning Torah as a gift to the defence of the nation, but what they do shows otherwise. This is no Yissachar-Zevulun model. No one experiences a sense of partnership. The bnai yeshiva learn for themselves. If they cared for the Israel as a whole, if they were learning to do their part in the national defence then why no effort to reach out to the larger community? Why no 'mishebairach' in the black hat yeshiva for the soldiers in the Israel Defense Forces? This is a case of 'show, don't tell!". If you want the nation to support your learning as in the best interest of the State of Israel show that your learning is indeed about caring for the Jewish People as a whole and the survival of the Jewish State. You can't make a peace for yourself and then expect others to appreciate that what you are doing is for them.
Surely the Nation of Israel exonerated itself in the sins of the worship of Baal P'or. They said "we did nothing wrong". But the truth was otherwise. If not for Pinchas all would have been lost. Wrongful behavior would not endure in a society that made it unacceptable. Here too, if the general society in Israel perceives learning as irrelevant to their wellbeing and safety it is no accident. That so many minimize the blessing of Torah learning to our social health means that they don't experience blessings eminating from the walls of the black hat yeshiva. On the contrary they feel ignored by that yeshiva world and labelled 'traife'.
While so many spend years in the army as an expression of national service, no one experiences the learners in these yeshivas sitting in the beis medrash as a service to the nation! Of course they then object to the free ride!
The reaction of hareidi leaders to the threat of yeshiva young men being drafted is misguided. Rather than become defensive and attack back they would do well to look at themselves and say "what are we doing wrong that leaves us so vulnerable".
If they did a true self-examination I think the answers would be as clear as the remedy. Show your selves true and caring partners and the draft issue will go away!
Continue to demonstrate a lack of identification with the society in which you live and resentment is inevitable. Show, don't tell, that you are truly doing your part for the safety of the nation and noone will object to your learning.
Sometimes all it takes for problems to be solved is a change of perspective.
Obstinacy and self-righteousness are the prescription for destruction. The story of Pinchas is the best example. If not for his heroism Israel would have been entirely destroyed in its self-righteousness and resistance to see the problem as theirs as much as the sinners themselves.
The Torah world of hareidim needs to turn inwards rather than blame and posture.
It needs to ask how can we make the Torah learning we do part of the national armor of Israel? How can we who learn show that we too are carrying the national interest at heart?
Shabbat Shalom
The Hareidi, or what is often called in America the 'black hat' community, is more than a little alarmed. The exemption for Bnai Torah from the military is as old as the Jewish State itself. They make the point (over and over) that the learning of Yeshiva boys is as much a part of the national defence as is the contribution of front line troops. Quoting traditional sources they argue that Torah protects us and any compromise of Torah learning endangers. Moreover, of course, they want to sit and learn and not be compelled to leave the bait medrash for any reason.
The battle lines are drawn. The drama is being acted out daily in the Knesset as efforts go on to draft a law that will set the norm for the future. Parties on both sides of the issue threaten to quit the coalition if their position is compromised.
Spokespersons from both the Hareidi Torah camp and from the more modern Israeli world have not been shy about expressing their sentiments, and all seem to have taken hard-line positions. No one seems ready to compromise.
It is in the context of this furor that I want to explore the parsha of this week, that of Pinchas, to see if it has anything to teach us.
You recall the portion begins with the aftermath of last week's compelling drama.
Many of the Israelites were seduced into idolatry by the daughters of Moab. G-d told Moshe to order that the elders kill all those who commit this grave sin, to hang them publically. At the same time, in response to G-d's wrath, a plague breaks out, with devestating consequences. It seems (according to the Ramban's understanding of the texts) that even before the Judges could put to death the sinners, a prince from the tribe of Shimon and a princess of Midian coupled in the presence of Moshe and the elders, thereby flaunting a defiance of the edict and the law.
Moshe became paralyzed by the outrage. The judges were now hesitant to carry out their mandate to kill and hang the sinners. It seemed all was in suspension. Yet the sins went on as did the plague.
It was into this void that Pinchas entered. He took matters into his own hands. In an act of zealotry he slew Zimri and Cozbi the prince and princess and restored the nation to its senses. In the opening of this week's parsha Pinchas is granted a special covenant of shalom from G-d Himself and an everlasting priesthood for his great act of zeal for the honor of the Divine.
What interested me as I explored this story this year was the reason G-d gives for bestowing the special gifts on Pinchas. G-d names not only the fact that Pinchas stood up for His honor. He also gives reason that because of Pinchas "...I did not entirely destroy the Children of Israel in my zealotry ." In other words, Pinchas's act of zealotry killing Zimri and Kozbi saved the nation from G-d's zealotry which would have resulted in their almost certain annihilation.
The question we might ask is why? Why did all Israel warrant destruction for the sins here of idolatry and lasciviousness? Those who committed the sins should be punished. But why the whole nation? What wrong did the nation do as a whole?
The answer is clear. If the People of Israel had been sufficiently invested in and committed to the honor of G-d the few could not been seduced into behaviors so repugnant. The would-be sinner needed to have a host environmnt that would tolerate their moral lapse. If Israel had been staunch in its revulsion to idolatry and intolerant of promiscuity with the heathen women no segment of the community would have dared to sin. That such evil happened in their midst condemns the nation as a whole even as it condemns the sinners. Both need repentence and a moral correction.
And why am I struck by this insight this year and this week? My sense is that it is deeply relevant to the current issues that so engage us. The Hareidi community is angry that its contribution to the Jewish State goes unrecognized. That so many want to draft Yeshiva students, in their eyes, reflects a lack of appreciation in the society as a whole for the value of Torah study, not only for the learner, but for the community. They say the problem is not with them but with the lack of true traditional Torah perspective in the largely secular nation.
But does that attitude of blaming the wayward one and exonerating the self really play? Lets get real. If the black hat Yeshiva world in Israel is thought of as apart and not sufficiently participating in the wellbeing of the whole, the army service issue is but an example and not the cause. The Hareidi Yeshiva world may say they are learning Torah as a gift to the defence of the nation, but what they do shows otherwise. This is no Yissachar-Zevulun model. No one experiences a sense of partnership. The bnai yeshiva learn for themselves. If they cared for the Israel as a whole, if they were learning to do their part in the national defence then why no effort to reach out to the larger community? Why no 'mishebairach' in the black hat yeshiva for the soldiers in the Israel Defense Forces? This is a case of 'show, don't tell!". If you want the nation to support your learning as in the best interest of the State of Israel show that your learning is indeed about caring for the Jewish People as a whole and the survival of the Jewish State. You can't make a peace for yourself and then expect others to appreciate that what you are doing is for them.
Surely the Nation of Israel exonerated itself in the sins of the worship of Baal P'or. They said "we did nothing wrong". But the truth was otherwise. If not for Pinchas all would have been lost. Wrongful behavior would not endure in a society that made it unacceptable. Here too, if the general society in Israel perceives learning as irrelevant to their wellbeing and safety it is no accident. That so many minimize the blessing of Torah learning to our social health means that they don't experience blessings eminating from the walls of the black hat yeshiva. On the contrary they feel ignored by that yeshiva world and labelled 'traife'.
While so many spend years in the army as an expression of national service, no one experiences the learners in these yeshivas sitting in the beis medrash as a service to the nation! Of course they then object to the free ride!
The reaction of hareidi leaders to the threat of yeshiva young men being drafted is misguided. Rather than become defensive and attack back they would do well to look at themselves and say "what are we doing wrong that leaves us so vulnerable".
If they did a true self-examination I think the answers would be as clear as the remedy. Show your selves true and caring partners and the draft issue will go away!
Continue to demonstrate a lack of identification with the society in which you live and resentment is inevitable. Show, don't tell, that you are truly doing your part for the safety of the nation and noone will object to your learning.
Sometimes all it takes for problems to be solved is a change of perspective.
Obstinacy and self-righteousness are the prescription for destruction. The story of Pinchas is the best example. If not for his heroism Israel would have been entirely destroyed in its self-righteousness and resistance to see the problem as theirs as much as the sinners themselves.
The Torah world of hareidim needs to turn inwards rather than blame and posture.
It needs to ask how can we make the Torah learning we do part of the national armor of Israel? How can we who learn show that we too are carrying the national interest at heart?
Shabbat Shalom
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