Parshas Naso - Blessings

This week’s Torah reading introduces the text of the Priestly Blessing, which should be quite familiar to us: “And God spoke with Moshe saying: Speak with Aharon and his sons, saying: “This is how you shall bless the Children of Israel, saying to them: May Adonoy bless you and protect you. May Adonoy cause his face to shine upon you and favor you. May Adonoy lift his face to you and grant you peace.” (Numbers 6:22-27).

One question we can ask on this section: Since God is the true source of all blessings in our lives, how can any man or set of men – such as the Kohanim (priests) – be designated to bless others?

Rabbi Raphael Pelcovitz raises this question and answers it by citing a midrash, that ties the Priestly Blessing to God’s promise and exhortation to Abraham, centuries earlier: “And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great and you should be a blessing.” (Genesis 12:2). The message of both God’s directive to Abraham and His gift of the Priestly Blessing to the Kohanim is that certain people have a unique opportunity – through their service, and through the examples they set – to be a blessing to others.

If the Kohanim live their lives in an exemplary fashion, and teach their fellow Jews with love and skill, then their blessings have true power. I would assert that the same principle holds true for all parents who bless their children with these words on Friday nights – if our relationship with our children throughout the week is one of love, patience, and concern, then our benediction on Shabbat evenings have tremendous potential. 

Parshas Bamidbar - Names

We learn in a midrash that despite their low spiritual state, the Jewish people merited to be redeemed from slavery in Egypt because of four praiseworthy practices: they continued to select Jewish names for their children, they kept using the Hebrew language, they did not gossip, and they did not intermarry or cohabit with the Egyptians (Leviticus Rabbah, 32:5).

In an essay on the Chabad.org website, Rabbi Aryeh Citron notes that the first meritorious practice – preserving Jewish names – can be seen clearly in this week’s Torah portion, Bamidbar. When Moses selects the leaders of the different tribes to assist him in conducting a Divinely-ordained census, the names of the leaders are striking in that many of them are composed of direct references to God. For example, the leader of the tribe of Reuven is Elizur (my God is a rock), son of Shadai-oor (my God is light) and the leader of the tribe of Shimon is Shelumiel (my peace is God), son of TzuriShadi (my rock is God), and so on (Numbers 1:5-15). 

Reading through the list of the names, its clear that these were not merely Jewish names but were also explicit messages of hope. I marvel at the fact that, amidst the bitterness and despair of slavery, the Jewish families identified in this week’s Torah reading selected mini-prayers as their children’s names. We would do well to consider their examples, both in the weighty occasions of naming our own children and in more mundane situations, such as when we select a screen name or an email address. As we see, the names we choose communicate values and serve as a constant reminder of our hopes and goals.  

Parshat Behar/Behukotai – Cheating won’t help

A large part of this week’s Torah portion concerns itself with the laws of the Shemitah and Yovel years – the seventh year and the fiftieth year in the agricultural cycle in the land of Israel, when Jews are forbidden from planting and harvesting in their own fields. In the fiftieth year ancestral lands that a family was forced to sell to provide for themselves revert back to the owners and all Jewish slaves are set free (Leviticus, chapter 25). Amidst these laws there is one verse that touches on an entirely different topic: “If you sell anything to your neighbor, or buy anything from your neighbor, do not cheat one another” (25:14). Why is this verse placed here, of all places??

Earlier this week Rabbi Yehoshua Lewis, the director of the Rutgers Jewish Experience, cited a commentary by Rabbi Yissochar Frand to explain to me why this verse is situated within the chapter about Shemitah and Yovel. He said that both the laws of Shemitah and Yovel, and the injunction against cheating, share a common underlying principle – that, while we are urged to work to support ourselves, in the end it is God who provides our sustenance and He allots exactly what we need in life. If we can truly incorporate this principle into our daily outlook, we will more easily accept any losses we may incur and we will not be tempted to cheat to improve our circumstances.

* This week’s Dvar Torah is dedicated to the memory of Elisheva Gila bat Shemuel, my sister in law Alice Storfer Nackman, z’l, who passed away on Lag B’Omer. 

Parshas Emor - shelf life

One aspect of the priestly service highlighted in this week’s Torah reading is the showbread, the 12 loaves of bread baked and put on display in the sanctuary each week. Miraculously the showbread stayed fresh for the entire week, until the next week’s showbread was in place. The Talmud tells us (Haggigah, 26) that when Jewish citizens would visit Jerusalem during the Festivals, the priests would bring out the showbread for the visitors to see and tell them: “Behold the love in which you are held by the Omnipresent; this bread is taken away as fresh as it was set down.”

The book Wellsprings of Torah, by Alexander Zusia Friedman, cites the author the Imrei Tzvi who asks: Why, of all things, were the seasonal visitors to Jerusalem shown this miracle and not any other?

The Imrei Tzvi answers that the miracle of the showbread offered valuable contrast to the miracle of the manna in the desert, which was ‘delivered’ daily to the Jewish people. We can see from the example of the showbread that it was entirely possible for God to deliver the manna once a week, or once a year, and for it to remain fresh. So why did God chose instead to rain down the manna every day? The Imrei Tzvi suggests that God did so in order that the Jews would have a vivid reminder, every day, of God’s concern for them and to have cause to reflect on that Divine love every day.

I have learned that if I approach daily prayers with a similar awareness, the effect can be profound. As I pray each morning I try to not only thank God for the ‘old’ gifts he has given me – of life, of family background, of education, etc. – but also to focus on His abundant daily gifts to me – such as waking up that day, enjoying good health for me and my immediate family, having sufficient means, finding opportunities to do good and to live well, and other blessings. If I can identify the manna that comes down every day, then I am much richer for it.

Achrei-Mot/Kedoshim - Mimicking Mindlessness

God tells Moshe to instruct the Jewish people, in this week’s Torah portion: “As the practices of the Land of Egypt in which you lived, you shall not do; and as the practices of the Land of Canaan, to which I am bringing you, you shall not do; and you shall not follow their statutes.” (Leviticus 18:3).

Rabbi Raphael Pelcovitz, in an essay in his book Table Talk, notes that the word for “their statutes” – ChuKoSayChem – is a curious word choice. The root word, Chok, is used in the Torah to designate commandments that God gives us that do not have any stated rationale and may in fact appear beyond reason; we are to observe them solely because God commanded us to do so. Why is this word used to refer to the undesirable customs of other nations, which we shouldn’t follow?

Rabbi Pelcovitz suggests that this word choice points to an unfortunate trait of the Jewish people. Rather than  seeking out and learning from the most admirable traits of a given culture in which we reside, Jewish people will instead often mimic the native customs or practices that have no evident rationale or redeeming purpose. Such ‘unthinking’ customs may be the current fashions, the local slang, mindless forms of entertainment, or perhaps the stylish cynicism of the day.

What the Torah is telling us, with this word choice, is to place value in our distinctiveness and only adopt ‘foreign’ customs that enhance our attachment to our faith.

Parshas Tazria/Metzorah – dermatology theology

In outlining the spiritual affliction that manifests as a skin ailment, Tza’ra’as, this week’s Torah reading provides an accounting of the observable physical signs that are likely to lead a Kohain (priest) to diagnose an Israelite as being so afflicted. In reviewing the different signs, Rabbi Tzvi Pittinsky* noted an oddity – a small white spot observed on the skin may result in an individual being pronounced ‘unclean’ (13:10-11). But if skin of the person under scrutiny is totally covered with this uncharacteristic whiteness, he is to be pronounced ‘clean’ (13:13). How can that be?

One way we can resolve this apparently inconsistent set of signs is to look at the person whose skin has gone entirely white as someone who is so far gone in his error as to be beyond usual corrective action. Only when, and if, his skin (and his outlook) – now totally white - resumes some normal cast, and his error (a white spot) can be seen in contrast to other more redeeming characteristics, can he then he prodded to examine his error and take the path to self-improvement.

As another way to address this inconsistency, Rabbi Pittinsky cites Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Yehuda Berlin (AKA the Netziv), a noted Rabbinic scholar, author, and commentator in Eastern Europe in the 19^th century. Rabbi Berlin suggests that the different indicators and their divergent diagnoses are designed to give us a lesson in how to offer someone else constructive criticism. Rabbi Berlin says that God gives someone a small white spot, as a gentle indicator that he is on the wrong path, because the person will be more inclined to accept a less dramatic sign of error. God does this because if He made the person go totally white, it would be the equivalent of telling your daughter, brother, worker, friend, or neighbor that they totally screwed up on something big – even if your intentions are honorable, when you ‘bang someone over the head’ with a blistering critique, they are unlikely to listen.

Rabbi Pittinsky compares the Netziv’s idea to commentary on a verse in Proverbs: “Don’t rebuke the scoffer, because he will hate you. Rather, rebuke a wise man and he will love you.” (9:8). Rabbi Isaiah Horowitz (AKA the Shelah HaKodesh), a prominent rabbinic leader and author in early 17^th century Poland and Palestine, understands this verse in Proverbs to be giving us instruction on how to speak with someone who you feel committed an offense. If you treat the other person as a scoffer, he will likely reject your criticism and get angry with you. But if you address this person as a wise man, who generally comports himself quite well but has deviated on a recent matter, he is more likely to accept your criticism and love you for the way you treat him.

* = in a Dvar Torah he wrote five years ago that his father, Daniel Pittinsky, was kind enough to share with me. 

Parshas Shemini - Edible animals

The verse in Leviticus delineates clearly which animals the children of Israel are allowed to eat: “All that have a cloven hoof, and they (the hooves) are (completely) split, and that chews its cud among the animals, that you may eat.” (11:3). Why are these physical traits established as the indicators of a kosher animal?

The simplest answer and perhaps the least satisfying, is that this commandment is a chok – one of the class of statues whose reason is not stated and whose rationale eludes us. We are challenged to keep these statues despite the fact that they make no sense to us, because true faith is not predicated on our ability to understand and/or agree with all of God’s commands.

Another answer is offered by Rabbi Pinchas Peli, in his book Torah Today: A Renewed Encounter with Scripture. He cites the Greek Jewish writer Philo (40 BCE – 20 CE), who suggested that the cloven hooves symbolically point to the capacity of a person to carefully make divisions between different aspects of the world and choose what is good. And an animal’s chewing its cud directs us to consider the value of ruminating over the lessons we have learned, so we can keep the insights we gained fresh in mind. The kosher animal, then, subtly reminds us of the traits we should embrace, so as to live a more thoughtful life.