Monday, July 30, 2012

Parshas Ve’eschanan - Divine Gifts


As Moshe recounts the days after the Jewish people conquered kings Sichon and Og, he recalls a personal moment: “I pleaded (Ve’eschanan) to Adonoy at that time, saying: Adonoy, Elohim, you have begun to show your servant Your greatness and your powerful hand, that there is no power in Heaven or Earth that can perform Your deeds and Your acts of power. Please, let me cross over and see the good land that is across the Jordan, this good mountain and the Lebanon.” (Deuteronomy 3:23-25).

Rashi, noting the use of the uncommon term Ve’eschanan, explains that the root of the word is HeeNoon, which signifies an undeserved gift. Rashi states that while the righteous might seek rewards from God based on their exemplary service and their many good deeds, they don’t try to seek favors from God based on their merits; instead, they see anything they request as an undeserved gift. I believe the patriarch Jacob expresses a similar sentiment, when he prays to God in the hours before he meets up again with Esau: “I am not worthy of all the mercies and of all the truth which Thou hast done with thy servant; for with my staff I passed over this Jordan (river) and now I have become two camps. Deliver me, I pray Thee, from the hand of my brother … ” (Genesis 32:11-12). Despite the fact that God made an explicit promise to Jacob to protect him in his journeys (Genesis 28:15), when Jacob prays for God’s help in his coming encounter he does not invoke God’s prior promise or seek credit for his years of faithfulness despite all the travails he experienced; all Jacob sees is that he is unworthy.

We can learn a great deal from Moshe and Jacob’s approach in prayer. We, who cannot stand on a mountain of merit as did our biblical role models, certainly should not seek God’s gifts based on our inherent goodness. It would serve us well to adopt a similar attitude of humility and recognize that whatever blessings we seek of God fit in the category of Divine gifts. If we take such an approach, our prayers may achieve greater poignancy and our appreciation of God’s beneficence can grow deeper.     

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Parshas Devorim - Exasperation


While Moshe recounts the highs and lows of his journey with the Jewish people through the desert over the previous 40 years, he looks back at the episode – in the first year of their travels – when he appointed judges over groups of one thousand, one hundred, fifty, and ten so as to share the burdens of leadership. Moshe recalls the feelings he had that led him to this decision: Eicha EhSaw LehVahDi TorHaChem, OoMaSahAhChem, VehReevChem/How alone can I bear your troublesomeness, your burdensomeness, and your contentiousness? (Deuteronomy 1:12)

Traditionally this parsha is read on the Shabbos right before the mournful fast day of Tisha B’av. Torah commentators have noticed that the uncommon word Moshe used at the start of his recollection – Eicha/How can I – is echoed in the first words of the Book of Lamentations (Megillas Eicha) that we read on Tisha B’av night. In the opening verse of the Book of Lamentations, the prophet Jeremiah asks rhetorically about the city of Jerusalem at the time of the destruction of the first Bais HaMikdash (Holy Temple): “Eicha YashVa BehDod HaEer RahBahTea Am/How is it that the city sits alone, which was (previously) full of people?

Rashi, commenting on Deuteronomy 1:12, states that what led Moshe to exclaim “Eicha!” and then to appoint judges was his exasperation with the Jewish people’s argumentativeness, their tendency to gossip (loshon hara), and their pessimistic outlook. When we consider Jeremiah’s question of Eicha, we need not search far for an answer. The caustic personality traits that sapped our greatest leader, Moshe, appear to have persisted and led centuries later to one of our greatest national tragedies. If we each examine our own character this Tisha B’av, will we find remnants of these divisive traits? By wrestling with this question and resolving to do better in the weeks to come, we have the chance to improve ourselves and to contribute to a larger effort to reverse the dynamics that have contributed to centuries of Jewish suffering.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Parshas Matos/Maasei - flatterers and cynics


In his book Torah Today (B’nai B’rith Books, 1987) Rabbi Pinchas Peli shares an interesting interpretation of a few verses in this week’s parsha that discuss how the Jewish people should treat accidental and deliberate killers, once they establish a sovereign nation in the land of Israel. We are first instructed: “Do not pollute the land in which you live, for the blood that was spilled in it …” (Numbers 35:33), while the next verse tells us: “Do not defile the land in which you live wherein I reside, for I God dwell among the children of Israel.” (35:34).  Rabbi Peli points out that the Hebrew words in the initial phrase in 35:33 can also be correctly translated as: “You should not flatter the land.”

Rabbi Peli suggests that, with the variant translation, we are presented with two dangerous approaches that we may take towards the people residing in the Land of Israel. Some of us may adopt a ‘flattering’ attitude that the Jews in Israel are always correct, justified, and morally upright, thereby ignoring critical failings and shortcomings that are bound to crop up in any group of people  – Jews included. On the other side there will be those of us who are prone to ‘defile’ the land, by unfailingly criticizing the Jewish government or people in Israel and focusing predominantly on any perceived or potential faults, without fair attention to the many redeeming qualities of the Jewish community. In both situations we lose size of the human realities of the Jewish people and their considerable merits.

Our task then is to love the land of Israel and our fellow Jews residing there, while being mindful that every human system is a ‘work in progress.’ We should note the times when our brothers and sisters in Israel fall short of our shared values but, as family members, we should voice our concerns cautiously and with an appreciation of their many merits and the difficult challenges they face. 

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Parshas Pinchas - count down


God orders Moshe and Aaron to conduct a national census in the second year after the Exodus from Egypt and the resulting tabulation shows that, excluding the tribe of Levi, the total number of men twenty years old and upwards is:
603,550             (Numbers 1:46)
Thirty-eight years later, God orders Moshe and Elazar (Aaron’s son and successor) to conduct another census of the men aged twenty and older, also to exclude the tribe of Levi. The resulting tabulation:
601,730            (Numbers 26:51)

One might think that, after nearly 40 years, any given population would increase. Yet here the Jewish people’s numbers decrease slightly. What happened?

One simple explanation might be that the rigors of desert life and frequent travel dictated by God’s command acted as a deterrent to the growth of families and the Jews consequently had few children.

Another approach to solve the riddle of the largely static population is to note all the times in the intervening 38 years when groups of Jews publicly revolted against God’s will and were subsequently killed. Sadly, there are a number of such occasions - the people griped against God “and the fire of God burned against them and consumed the edge of the camp” – number of fatalities unknown (Numbers 11:1); the people craved meat, complained bitterly, received quail, and “The meat was still between their teeth, not yet chewed, when the wrath of God flared against the people and God struck a very mighty blow against the people.” – number of fatalities unknown (11:33); Korach, Dasan and Aviran, and 250 co-conspirators openly revote against Moshe and are killed in an instant (16:31-35); the people grumbled that Moshe had Korach and the others killed as a personal vendetta and a plague from God broke out, leaving 14,700 dead (17: 6-14); the people complained about the food and “The Lord sent consuming snakes against the people and many people of Israel died” – number of fatalities unknown (21:5-6); and the episode of public immorality with the daughters of Moav, when the Israelite judges were commanded to execute the public sinners – according to Rashi, this resulted in 176,000 fatalities (25:1-5); additionally 24,000 people were killed in a subsequent plague (25:9). 

We may contrast this troubling body count with the accounts of the battles the children of Israel conducted with the Canaanite king of Arad (21:1-3), King Sihon and the Amorites (21:21-25), and Og king of Bashan and his people (21: 33-35), where the text offers no indication that there was any significant fatalities of war among the Jews. The conclusion we reach, however clichéd it may be, is that we the Jewish people are often our own worst enemies. And when we are able to constrain our cantankerousness and follow our faith, we can accomplish incredible things. 


Note:
I've used the term "number of fatalities unknown" to indicate where there is no account of the number of people killed in the text of the Torah, in Rashi's comments, or in the commentaries that I have read. This does not preclude the possibility that one or some of the figures may be cited in areas of the Talmud with which I am unfamiliar. If a reader of this Dvar Torah is acquainted with such a citation, I ask that they please share it with me, by sending an email to:   donlegofzechut@yahoo.com       Thank you!

Sunday, July 1, 2012

Parshas Balak - Yes and No?


Does God change His mind?

Balak, King of Moab, sent messengers to the gentile prophet Bilaam, asking him to curse “the people that came out of Egypt.” God appears to Bilaam in a vision that night and tells him: “Do not go with them. You shall not curse the people, for they are blessed.” (Numbers 22:2-12). A few days later, Balak sends more distinguished messengers to Bilaam with the same request. This time, however, God tells Bilaam: “If the men have come to call you, arise and go with them. However, whatever I say to you, you will do.” (22:20).

What happened?

In a 2010 essay Rabbi Jonathan Sacks addresses this question by quoting the midrash (Bamidbar Rabbah, 20:1), which instructs us: “Man is led down the path he chooses to tread.” He explains that God expressed His will clearly to Bilaam the first time but when Bilaam sought another answer, God let Bilaam follow his mistaken inclination. Ultimately, Bilaam’s stubborn insistence led to his own embarrassment – first with his donkey and later in the complete failure of his mission to curse the Jewish people. A few weeks later Bilaam's folly resulted in his untimely death in battle with the Jewish people (see Rashi on Numbers 31:6). 

Don’t we, at times, engage in the same foolishness? We know what our religious imperatives are and yet we look for a loophole, a lenient interpretation, or we console ourselves that ‘extenuating circumstances’ give us license to be lax. And when lightning does not strike us, and no sign of divine disfavor appears in the clouds, we consider our actions endorsed. God, of course, gives us the freedom to take those steps away from His will and, by doing so, to lose precious opportunities to strengthen our faith, our commitment, and our focus in life.