Parashah Ponderings

Posting of thoughts on the weekly Torah portion.

Parashah Ponderings

Arguing for the Sake of Heaven

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Parashat Korach – Numbers 16:1 – 18:32

In Parashat Korach, Moses confronts an epic challenge. Korach, an ordinary Levite, a small band of followers, and 250 elected leaders “combined against Moses and Aaron and said to them, ‘You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and the Lord is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above the Lord’s congregation?'” (Numbers 16:3). In response, Moses instructs those who oppose him to appear with him and Aaron “before the Lord” the next morning bearing fire pans with incense. God would then resolve the issue: “… the man whom the Lord chooses, he shall be the holy one” (16:7).

At the appointed time and place, Moses, Aaron, Korach, the small band and the elected leaders all gather “before the Lord” with their fire pans in hand. At that moment, “the earth opened its mouth and swallowed them up with their households, all Korah’s people and all their possessions” (16:32), and “a fire went forth from the Lord and consumed the two hundred and fifty men offering the incense”(16:35). In this stunning fashion, God once again chose Moses and Aaron to lead the People of Israel.

This incident, known as Korah’s Rebellion, serves as the basis for the rabbis’ discussion in the Talmud of arguments that are or are not for the sake of heaven:

Every machloket (conflict) which is l’shem shamayim (for the sake of Heaven) is destined to endure. And that which is not l’shem shamayim (for the sake of Heaven) is destined not to endure. What is a machloket that is for the sake of Heaven? The disagreements over Jewish law in the Talmud between Hillel and Shammai. What is a machloket that is not for the sake of Heaven? The dispute of Korach and his cohorts. (Mishnah Avot 5:17)

This teaching raises several questions. What does it mean for an argument to “endure?” Wouldn’t it make sense for a “bad” conflict to endure but a “good” conflict to come to a tidy resolution? Why do the rabbis elevate the disagreements between Hillel and Shammai to the status of “for the sake of Heaven?” What exactly is wrong with the “dispute of Korach and his cohorts?” The answers to these questions are instructive in our lives, where conflict, which is inevitable, can either be positive and constructive or negative and destructive.

Hillel and Shammai represent two schools of rabbinic thought around the beginning of the first century of the common era, each of whose arguments on issues from ritual practice to the essence of Torah are recorded in the Talmud. What distinguishes the Hillel-Shammai disagreements and, thus, warrants the inclusion of each school’s positions in our sacred literature, is that Hillel and Shammai and their followers are searching for Truth. They are in dialogue over their understandings of God’s instruction as laid out in the Torah. They aren’t arguing just to prove a point, to build themselves up or to bring each other down. They are arguing over big ideas. In fact, they aren’t even so much rivals as partners in a sacred, ongoing effort to discern what God wants of us.

Not so with Korach and his ilk. They seek victory for victory’s sake. They seek power. There can be no greater good to their dispute, no higher purpose to perpetuating their struggle with Moses and Aaron. According to Nechama Leibowitz, a great and revered contemporary Torah scholar writes:

…that Korah and his followers “were simply a band of malcontents, each harboring [individual] personal grievances against authority, animated by individual pride and ambition, united to overthrow Moses and Aaron hoping thereby to attain their individual desires.” Eventually, ”they would quarrel among themselves, as each one strove to attain selfish ambitions….” They deserve their punishment, argues Leibowitz, because all their motives were self-serving, meant to splinter and divide the Jewish people. (See Studies in Bemidbar, pp. 181-185). (Fields, Harvey J. [1991].  A Torah Commentary for Our Times: Vol. Three: Numbers and Deuteronomy. New York, NY: UAHC Press, p. 50)

How often do we engage in or witness a debate in which one or more parties resembles Korach and his followers, arguing from a place of pride, ambition, and self-interest? Argumentation in such debates is often couched in noble terms. (Note that Korach hides his grab for power behind the pretext of caring for the holiness of “all the community.”) But don’t be fooled. The noble terms are merely a smoke screen or a tactic of manipulation. In the end, there is no higher purpose to such debates. They waste time and energy and may very well end only after a great deal of harm has been inflicted. To be sure, the Korach-like arguments in our lives should be avoided if at all possible.

It is interesting that Korach finds himself being swallowed up by the earth. It is not only his argument that is not for the sake of Heaven. He himself has degraded himself by his own actions. Neither he nor his argument is for the sake of Heaven. In the words of our parashah, “They went down alive into Sheol (the netherworld)” (16:33).

We must remember that, as tempting as it may be to lash out against those with whom we disagree and to seek their demise, holding hatred in our hearts and expending our resources vengefully usually comes at a huge price. Not only does our lust for power and our pettiness separate us potentially from our friends, family and community, it also affects our health, our daily functioning, and our self-image. Little good can come out of such conflict, save a degree – albeit even a large degree — of personal gratification.

On the other hand, legitimate, respectful, impassioned debate over big ideas may very well bring us into relationship with others, sharpen our minds, and give greater meaning to our lives. This is why argumentation is so valued in Jewish houses of study. As Jews, we belief that argumentation at its best is ultimately redemptive for all concerned.

Let us seek to emulate the ways of Hillel and Shammai as we find ourselves in conflict. Let us ask if what we are arguing for is ultimately about ourselves or if there is a larger, sacred purpose. Are we repeating the mistake of Korach and his associates? Or are we carrying on our sages’ legacy of sacred debate? If the former, let us consider if our short-term objectives are worth the longer-term destruction we may cause. In any case, let us stop and think before engaging in conflict and resolve to make all our debates l’shem shamayim, for the sake of Heaven.

Parashah Ponderings

The Sin of Avoidance

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Parashat Shelach Lecha — Numbers 13:1 – 15:41

This week’s Torah reading, Parashat Shelach Lecha, tells of one of the greatest catastrophes to befall the People of Israel during its sojourn in the wilderness. Commonly referred to as the “sin of the spies,” this incident becomes the very reason it would take the people 40 years to enter the Promised Land. During those 40 years, the entire generation of Israelites that left Egypt, save two men — Joshua and Caleb — would perish. Only the generations born in the wilderness, those who never experienced slavery in Egypt, would merit possessing the land.

In chapter 13 of the Book of Bemidbar (Numbers) God instructs Moses to “Send men to scout the land of Canaan” (13:2). In fulfilling God’s bidding, Moses says to the scouts (or spies), of which there was one from each tribe: “‘Go up there into the Negeb and on into the hill country, and see what kind of country it is. Are the people who dwell in it strong or weak, few or many? Is the country in which they dwell good or bad? Are the towns they live in open or fortified? Is the soil rich or poor? Is it wooded or not? And take pains to bring back some of the fruit of the land'” (13:17-20).

What Moses asks for is “just the facts.” However, what the scribes bring back is a report with too much commentary. The scouts effectively undermine the people’s faith in God and once again ready them to return to Egypt: “The country that we traversed and scouted is one that devours its settlers. All the people that we saw in it are men of great size… and we looked like grasshoppers to ourselves, and so we must have looked to them” (13:32-33).

Incensed at the scouts and those who joined them in fearing that Israel would never be able to possess the land that God had promised their ancestors, God declares that the generations of Israelites that left Egypt would be doomed to wander for 40 years, one year for each day the scouts were on their mission. This would be enough time to ensure that younger, more faithful Israelites would eventually take over the leadership of the tribes and then conquer the land of Canaan. The People needed optimistic leaders who wouldn’t easily be swayed to abandon their divine mission only to bear the shackles of slavery in Egypt once again.

For a brilliant interpretation of why the generation of the scouts was punished by God as it was, I urge you to read the article by Chief Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks at http://www.aishdas.org/ta/5772/shlach.pdf. Rabbi Sacks was Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth of England from 1991 to 2013 and is one of the most astute readers and teachers of Torah in the world today. In answering his own question — “Why did the spies err so egregiously?” — Rabbi Sacks shares a Hassidic train of thought that the spies preferred the wilderness life over the life that would come with building a nation in the Land of Israel (http://www.aishdas.org/ta/5772/shlach.pdf). In the wilderness, the people felt close to God and they could focus on serving God free of responsibilities like plowing and harvesting, self-defense, maintaining a welfare system, etc. In reality, though, Rabbi Sacks writes, “The Jewish task is not to fear the real world but to enter and transform it. That is what the spies did not understand” (ibid.).

As we go through life, we often face obstacles that initially feel insurmountable, and it is tempting to simply back away from the obstacles and abandon whatever it was we were hoping to achieve. Had the spies had their way, the People of Israel would have returned back to Egypt, leaving Canaan for another nation to conquer. But that was not God’s plan. So eventually a generation arose with the resolve to see God’s promise to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob to fulfillment. We must show similar resolve in our lives to do the hard, sometimes frightening work required to enjoy a life of meaning and to make the world a better place for all humanity. It is our task to make God’s love manifest for all God’s creatures; this can only happen when we overcome isolation and avoidance to engage the “real world.”

 

Parashah Ponderings

SHARING THE BURDEN OF LEADERSHIP

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PARASHAT Beha’alotcha — Numbers 8:1 – 12:16

When in a position of leadership, how would you say you deal with chaos? Do you get angry and lash out at people? Do you retreat and ignore the chaos? If there’s a lot of complaining, do you give in to demands and give people what they want even if doing so might be impractical, costly or unwise? In truth, exhibiting leadership in hard times is always a challenge.

This week’s parashah comes along to offer us guidance. In Beha’alotcha, we encounter Moses at his wit’s end, dealing with a restless, hungry, grumbling populace. All they’ve had to eat in the wilderness for two years has been manna, a dew-like substance. They are tired of manna and long for meat. They wax nostalgic for all the foods they ate while slaves in Egypt. In his appeal to God for relief, Moses cries out: I cannot carry all this people by myself, for it is too much for me. If You would deal thus with me, kill me rather, I beg You, and let me see no more of my wretchedness!” (Numbers 11:14-15).

God’s response to Moses is twofold. One response is to attempt to put an end to the people’s whining about meat once and for all. God instructs Moses to say to the people: The Lord will give you meat and you shall eat. You shall eat not one day, not two, not even five days or ten or twenty, but a whole month, until it comes out of your nostrils and becomes loathsome to you (11:18:20). After God makes good on this promise/threat, God then inflicts the people with a severe plague.

It is clear from God’s outburst that God is every bit as fed up as Moses! Tempers are flaring all around.

God’s other response is more measured and provides a lesson about leadership. To Moses’ credit, he admitted to God that “I cannot carry all his people by myself.” Thus, God instructs Moses to enlist others to help share the burden of leadership: Gather for Me seventy of Israel’s elders of whom you have experience as elders and officers of the people, and bring them to the Tent of Meeting and let them take their place there with you. I will come down and speak with you there, and I will draw upon the spirit that is on you and put it upon them; they shall share the burden of the people with you, and you shall not bear it alone (11:16-17).

Though expressed in desperate terms, Moses’ appeal for help is in and of itself exemplary. He noticed his limitations and knew that alone he would not be able to continue to lead in any responsible way. The job of leading Israel was wearing on Moses and he was feeling inadequate to the point of wishing for death. Yet, he had the clarity of mind to believe he could continue if only God would lend a hand.

God did, indeed, lend a hand, but rather than simply intervene by providing quail to the Israelites, God also gave Moses a good piece of advice: share the task of leadership with others. Moses had done this earlier at the suggestion of his father-in-law Jethro (Exodus 14:16-18), but for whatever reasons God perceived that it was time for a new or, perhaps, an additional, leadership team.

What made this leadership team distinctive was that all the elders received the gift of prophecy, i.e. they could hear God directly and speak on God’s behalf. This gift had previously been reserved for Moses. With the elders joining Moses in speaking on behalf of God, Moses was no longer perceived as an autocrat by the people, God’s word attained a new level of Truth because it wasn’t coming from the mouth of one man, and the people now had others they could talk to about their problems, knowing that these were already well-respected leaders within each tribe. With this leadership team in place, Moses was more easily able to manage the chaos and discontentment among the masses.

Meanwhile, two other elders by the names of Eldad and Medad, who were not in the Tent of Meeting with the other seventy, also received the gift of prophecy and began to prophesize in the camp (Numbers 11:24-26).  Rather than restrain Eldad and Medad, as Joshua urged him (11:28), Moses embraced the idea of having additional leaders prophesying among the people. Moses had already demonstrated his willingness to share authority with the seventy elders in the Tent of Meeting. Now he was showing an even greater generosity of spirit. “Would that all the Lord’s people were prophets, that the Lord put His spirit upon them!” he said (11:29).

From Moses’ example, we learn the importance of sharing responsibility with others. It often takes a team of leaders to tackle big challenges. Moreover, allowing people outside the immediate leadership circle to assume the mantel of leadership serves to empower the people to take responsibility for themselves and not rely only on others to solve their problems for them. Like a candle’s flame that is not diminished when it ignites another candle, Moses was not less of a leader or prophet because he dared to share authority with others. On the contrary, Moses’ status as a great leader is significantly bolstered by the generosity, humility, confidence and wisdom he exhibited not only in accepting God’s direction regarding the elders but also in his decision to allow others beyond an elite group to assume authority as well.

The next time we are faced with a challenging situation that requires level-headed leadership, may we recall this moment of brilliance in which Moses reached out for help and lovingly embraced the leadership of all those whom God endowed with the will and ability to lead.

 

Parashah Ponderings

Order within the Wilderness

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Parashat Bemidbar: Numbers 1:1 – 4:20

With this week’s Torah portion, Bemidbar, we begin a new book of the Torah, also named Bemidbar. Bemidbar depicts Israel’s trials during the 40 years of wandering “in the wilderness” (bemidbar, in Hebrew) following their exodus from Egypt. The book also contains multiple censuses of the Israelites. Reflecting this latter focus on counting people, the English title for Bemidbar is Numbers. The relationship between these two themes — the wilderness and the censuses — is full of meaning.

The reading begins:

1 On the first day of the second month, in the second year following the exodus from the land of Egypt, the Lord spoke to Moses in the wilderness of Sinai, in the Tent of Meeting, saying…

The French medieval commentator Rabbi Samuel ben Meir (Rashbam, 1085-1174) asks why the Torah here specifies where God spoke to Moses. He posits that the location of God’s speech adds clarity. After all, God had spoken to Moses and Israel elsewhere just a year earlier: “All of the divine utterances that were spoken during the first year, before the Tabernacle was set up, are labeled as having been spoken ‘on Mount Sinai.’ But once the Tabernacle was set up, on the 1st of Nisan of the second year, we find not ‘on Mount Sinai’ but ‘in the wilderness of Sinai in the Tent of Meeting.’”[1] In other words, now that Israel has the Tabernacle, God can speak to them as they wander through the wilderness. Beforehand God could only be present at Mount Sinai. God is now portable.

But why the emphasis on the midbar, wilderness, itself? Of the many explanations for this, I am drawn to two in particular. One sees the wilderness, both a challenging place for human survival and a spectacular show of nature, as the perfect crucible for Israel’s maturation. The Israeli historian Nachman Ran imagines that after Israel’s centuries-long period of enslavement in Egypt, they needed to gel as a nation and to grow spiritually. “To a people whose entire living generation had seen only the level lands of Egypt, the Israelite march into this region of mountain magnificence, with its sharp and splintered peaks and profound valleys, must have been a perpetual source of astonishment and awe. No nobler school could have been conceived for training a nation of slaves into a nation of freemen or weaning a people from the grossness of idolatry to a sense of grandeur and power of the God alike of Nature and Mind.” Indeed, “in the midbar they become free human beings responsible to God and to themselves for every choice they make.”[2]

Another interpretation likens the landscape of the midbar to “the psychological and spiritual realms of human existence.” The 20th century Israeli scholar and poet Pinhas Peli believes there is a “‘wilderness’ within each person, a ‘desert’ where selfish desires rule, where one looks out only for one’s needs. No person is ever satisfied in the desert. There is constant complaining about lack of food and water, the scorching hot days and bitter cold nights. Anger, frustration, disagreements, and hunger prevail… The Torah is given in the desert… ‘to conquer and curb the demonic wilderness within human beings.’… The lesson here is that, ‘if human beings do not conquer the desert, it may eventually conquer them. There is no peaceful coexistence between the two.’”[3]

These understandings of the midbar first as Israel’s training ground to serve as God’s “chosen people” and next as a symbol of the treacherous landscape within each of us, leads me to the next verses in our reading:

2 Take a census of the whole Israelite community by the clans of its ancestral houses, listing the names, every male, head by head. 3 You and Aaron shall record them by their groups, from the age of twenty years up, all those in Israel who are able to bear arms.

What emerges from the census, we learn later, is the creation of an army, on one hand, and a workforce to tend to the Tabernacle, on the other hand. God, thus, provides Israel with a mechanism literally to put its camp in order so that it can survive the tough trek ahead. With no such order, the nation and its connection to God would be doomed.

On a symbolic level, the census represents the moral, spiritual and physical preparation necessary to be able to make something of God’s revelation. Without some kind of ordered society, without a higher purpose, and without personal accountability, Israel would not have been able to actualize the lessons of Torah. They would have been too divided, distracted, and self-interested to build the kind of caring world that God envisioned. What kind of “light unto the nations” would Israel have been if it was at war with itself, unable to know right from wrong?

What we learn from this week’s Torah portion is that in order to bring calm to a world in chaos, we must first take care of business at home and within. Judaism places a premium on shalom bayit, family harmony, partly because it recognizes that the family is fertile ground for sowing the values of Torah and Jewish peoplehood. But family isn’t the only fertile ground. Individual souls and communities, too, are places where values must be allowed to flourish. Without tilling the soil, without bringing order to it, nothing except weeds and wildflowers will grow. Under such circumstances, beauty is left to chance. We can’t leave the creation of a just, compassionate world to chance, however. Instead, let us strive to bring order to the wilderness.

©Rabbi Daniel Aronson, 2014

 

[1] Michael Carasik, The Commentator’s Bible: Numbers, (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 2011), p. 3.

[2] From Harvey J. Fields, A Torah Commentary for Our Times: Volume 3 Numbers and Deuteronomy, (New York: UAHC Press, 1993), pp. 9-10.

[3] Ibid., pp. 11-12.

Parashah Ponderings

Serving God without Servitude

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Parashat Bechukotai: Leviticus 26:3 – 27:34

This week’s Torah reading brings the Book of Leviticus to a close. The reading begins with 13 verses in which God promises to bless the people of Israel if they follow God’s laws (chukot) and observe God’s commandments. What follows, however, is a series of seven increasingly harsh curses that God will set upon the people if they spurn God’s laws and commandments. These curses contain some of the harshest punishments against Israel in the entire Torah. The reading concludes on a mellower note with a set of measures aimed at raising the necessary funds to maintain the Sanctuary.

My colleague Rabbi Shai Held, Co-Founder, Dean and Chair in Jewish Thought at Mechon Hadar (mechonhadar.org), in his weekly teaching hones in on the very last verse among the blessings (Lev. 26:13) and finds there meaning that would allude most readers. Rabbi Held’s message of serving God with our heads held high as opposed to bowed over in submission is a powerful one that I am pleased to share with you this week. Please click here to read Rabbi Held’s teaching: http://goo.gl/fREnzm.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Dan