Parshat pinchas on Tzlofchad’s courageous daughters

The daughters of Tzelofhad…came forward…They stood before Moshe, Elazar the priest, the chieftains, and the whole assembly, at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, and they said, ‘Our father died in the wilderness. He was not one of the faction, Korah’s faction, which banded together against the Lord, but died for his own sin; and he has left no sons. Let not our father’s name be lost to his clan just because he had no son! Give us a holding among our father’s kinsmen!” (Num. 27:1-4)

Moshe was getting ready to divvy up the Land of Israel, as the people reach the end of their wanderings in the desert and prepare to enter this new stage of their national existence. But in the system being established by Moshe, land will be given only to men and passed on through men. Having no brothers, the sisters realize that there is no one to inherit what would have been the portion allotted to their father; their immediate family will not share in the Land. And so they come forward to petition Moshe for a different outcome. Moshe takes their plea to God – Who responds: “The daughters of Tzelofhad speak correctly; you will surely give them a hereditary holding among their father’s kinsmen, transfer their father’s share to them.” (27:6)

God goes on to impart to Moshe a more broad principle that in any case in which a man dies without living male descendants, his daughters then become his heirs.

The daughters of Tzelofhad accomplish something quite significant; a change in the law going forward that gives women a degree of rights that they did not have before – though it is true that they inherit only when there are no sons. The daughters of Tzelofhad are bold in taking action and asking for what they want, and they most certainly make history in a positive way.  There is an argument to make that the daughters of Tzelofhad are, in their way, quite “well-behaved.” They are, if anything, more well-behaved than the Israelite men, who have recently been acting rather inappropriately with those Midianite women.

The system Moshe is trying to establish for the Israelites is a society of God’s people in the Land. At this moment, one could argue (and certain rabbinic midrashim did) that these women have better values than the men to whom the land is supposed to go; they want their share of the Land more than the men do! They are not rebelling against the system, really; quite the opposite, one could say, they’re deeply committed to its values and want what the system wants, at least for its male members. And it’s this challenge of the system, coming from within the system and motivated by a commitment to the system and its ideals, that makes a historic change for the better.

It is interesting to note that when the daughters of Tzlofchad approached Moshe and asked to inherit their father’s portion of the land of Israel, the Torah tells us that Moshe did not respond to them immediately. Instead, he brought the matter before Hashem and asked what to do?  Many suggest that Moshe simply did not know the answer and therefore sought Hashem’s counsel. The Chafetz Chayim suggests that Moshe did indeed know the proper answer, yet he felt that he could not be objective. When the daughters of Tzlofchad came to Moshe they described their father as having died in the desert as a result of his own sin, and that he had not been one of the followers of Korach.  Rabbi Zwickler of NJ, comments: “Moshe was worried that perhaps his judgment of this case would be impaired because the episode of Korach was mentioned, and that situation touched him in a very personal way.  There are times in life when are asked to give someone advice or judge a persons behavior and we are challenged with the question of our own objectivity. In such situations it is important to be honest with ourselves and learn from the lesson of Moshe.”

Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim

 

Parshat Balak on differing prophetic styles

The Midrash states: “What is the difference between the prophets of the Jewish people and the prophets of the nations of the world? The prophets of Israel forewarned the nations not to transgress. However the prophets of the nations created breaches to destroy mankind so that it should have no connection with the world to come. The prophets of the Jewish people expressed the Attribute of Mercy, while their prophets expressed cruelty. Bilaam, the prophet of the nations, wanted to uproot and destroy an entire nation. This is the reason the Torah tells us the story of Bilaam. It is so that one should understand why there is no longer Divinely inspired people (prophets) among the nations of the world. If the power of prophecy would be given to an individual from the nations, it would be used for destruction, as Bilaam had done. Bilaam, being given prophecy, is the reason the nations of the world cannot claim at the end of time that G’d did not grant them the same opportunity as He had the Jewish people.”

The Torah states when Bilaam was on the way to curse the Jewish people, “G’d’s wrath flared because he was going, and an angel of Hashem stood on the road to impede him. Bilaam was riding on his donkey…The donkey saw the angel of Hashem standing on the road with his sword drawn in his hand….” The Midrash asks, “Why did the angel have a drawn sword in his hand? The angel could have blown upon Bilaam and caused him to die. As we see regarding the destruction of the army of Sancherev. When Sancherev had come upon the Jewish people with millions of troops to destroy Jerusalem and the Temple, the verse states, ‘The angel of Hashem went forth and had smitten the camp of Ashure. He had blown upon them and they dried-up.’ Why did the angel come upon Bilaam with a drawn sword, when he could have simply blown upon him? The angel said to Bilaam, ‘The power of the mouth was given to Yaakov. As the verse states, ‘The voice is the voice of Yaakov and the hands are the hands of Esav.’ It also states regarding the nations of the world, ‘By the sword you shall live…’ But you, Bilaam, took hold of the craft of the Jewish people and came upon them with your mouth (to curse them). Therefore, when I come upon you I shall do so with your craft (the sword).’ This is the reason the angel came upon Bilaam with a drawn sword.”

Rashi cites Chazal who explain that before Balak commissioned Bilaam to curse the Jewish people he had consulted with the Midianites in order to ascertain the secret power of the leader of the Jewish people. They had told him that the power of their leader lies in his mouth, his verbal expression. They therefore summoned Bilaam to counter Moshe, with his power of expression to curse the Jewish people. However, Balak and the Midianites had no understanding of the essence of Moshe’s power. The effectiveness of Moshe’s ability emanated from his unique dimension of spirituality. Moshe had no relevance to evil, as Bilaam had. He was imbued with holiness only to carry out the Will of G’d. The only commonality between Moshe and Bilaam was that both of their expressions emanated from their mouth. Although Bilaam’s curse was lethal, as it had proven to be, it had no relevance to his spirituality; but rather, it was rooted in his evilness/physicality. Chazal tell us that when Moshe had killed the Egyptian in Egypt when he was beating a Jew, he had done so through the enunciation of one of the Names of G’d. His killing of the Egyptian, through verbal expression rather than a physical act, was an indication of the spirituality of Moshe. Bilaam was known for his “evil eye.” Chazal tell us that when Bilaam initially wanted to bless the Jewish people, G’d had said to him, “Do not bless them. They do not need your blessing.” It is as one says to a bee, “We do not need your honey and we do not need your sting.” This is because a blessing that emanates from an evil source is the equivalent of a curse.

 

Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim

 

Parshat Chukat On Moshe and the rock

The Lord spoke to Moses, saying, ‘You and your brother Aaron take the rod and assemble the community, and before their very eyes order the rock to yield its water. Thus you shall produce water for them from the rock and provide drink for the congregation and their beasts.”  – Numbers 20:7-8.

The Torah portion Chukat is long and varied, containing many interesting and dramatic narratives, including strife in the wilderness, the decree that Moshe will not enter the Land, and the deaths of Miriam and Aharon. The beginning of chapter 20 relates the famous story of “striking the rock,” with the resultant terrible decree on Moshe, who was apparently supposed to speak to the rock when the people cry out for water, as in the verse above. Instead, he struck it with his staff, and is told that he will never enter the Land.

There is a fascinating midrash related to what Moshe was ostensibly supposed to do when the people cried out for water, and there were only rocks around them. The late medieval commentator known as the Or HaChaim (from his famous book of that title) quotes an earlier text to which interprets “order the rock” [literally, “speak to the rock before their eyes”] as “study Torah by the rock,” or maybe even to teach Torah to the rock itself ! The text says that Moshe should have spoken just “a single paragraph” to the stone. Given that rocks, unlike people, don’t have ears to hear or minds to understand, what could this possibly mean?

Rabbi Neal Joseph Loevinger explains: “The verse itself is clear that Moshe was supposed to speak to the rock, not just whack it with a stick, but the image of studying Torah by- or with- the rock suggests that the better way to get water from a rock is a more meditative approach, rather than frantic action. This is not about a miracle of hydrology, it’s about what it takes to draw out from others something deep and nourishing: first, go to your innermost core, reminding yourself of your deepest ideals and sense of connection. Then, speak words of Torah- that is, words which are grounded in our best selves, our most authentic ethical and spiritual traditions and paradigms. That’s how you draw out something sustaining when the community is “dry” of ideas, hopes, and vision. “Speaking Torah to the rock” can mean: Moshe, if you’re swinging sticks around when the people are scared, go back to your own source of innermost meaning- study some Torah so that you act from a place of spiritual intentionality, not negativity, resentment or anger towards the people. Dealing with human beings- stubborn, stiff-necked and complaining, as all of us are, at least some of the time- often requires a reorientation of our attitude before we can be effective agents of hope and care. Even Moshe had to remember who he was- a teacher, a leader, a lover of Israel, grounded in sacred ideals- before he could give others what they needed. It’s no great failing to want to strike the rock; we fail only ourselves when in haste we forget to slow down and take in Torah and its vision of compassionate humanity.”

Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim

 

Korach on the definition of community

The centerpiece of this week’s portion, Korach, is Korach’s challenge of Moses and Aaron’s leadership. Dathan, Abiram, and two hundred and fifty elders join Korach in the revolt, claiming that they have an equal right to lead. Moses responds by telling Korach and the others to bring their fire pans the next day and lay incense on them: God will decide who should lead. To this point, the only characters mentioned are Moses, Aaron, Korach, Dathan, Abiram, and the elders. The people are not involved. But when the hour of the test arrives, Korach “kicks it up a notch” by gathering the people to observe the event. He turns his attempted revolt into an attempted revolution. The text makes if clear that the congregation plays no part in what happens: They have been called by Korach to witness. Yet God speaks to Moses, saying: “Stand back from this community that I may annihilate them in an instant!” (Numbers 16:21) Whereupon Moses and Aaron fall on their faces and plead with God: “O God, Source of the breath of all flesh! When one man sins, will You be wrathful with the whole community?” (Numbers 16:22) Apparently God listens and reconsiders. God’s response is: “Speak to the community and say, ‘Withdraw from the abodes of Korach, Dathan, and Abiram.'” (Numbers 16:24)

The question is, Why did God want to destroy the entire nation in the first place? What did they do? Some commentators are so puzzled by this episode that they say Moses misinterpreted God’s original command. By “community,” God meant just the rebels. Maybe Moses misunderstood by thinking that God meant the entire people. In his book Torah Concepts:The Source of Jewish Values, Rabbi Joe Radinsky points to the Malbim’s commentary as the best explanation. He posits that, in fact, God did originally intend to destroy the entire nation because they were guilty of a great sin: “They had committed the sin of fence-straddling, the sin of indifference.” It was for this that God wanted to destroy them-for not taking a stand against evil.

Rabbi Roy A. Walter of Houston, comments:  “The text doesn’t in any way suggest that the people supported Korach, but they didn’t oppose him, either: If Moses should win, they’d continue to work with him. If Korach should win, they’d work with him. They saw their community threatened, but they didn’t want to get involved. Moses didn’t understand this at first. He protested, “But God, they haven’t done anything!” To which God responded, “That’s exactly the point: They haven’t done anything. Let them stand back from Korach and Dathan and Abiram. If they want to be saved, let them dissociate themselves from the evil around them.” Is there a message more enduring than this one: Evil in a society or a nation endures when the people stand by and watch! By not condemning Korach and his followers, by their silence, the People of Israel condoned the former’s actions. No less today, when we stand by and allow evil to go unchallenged, we share responsibility with those who are perpetrating it. The only way to prevent ourselves and our world from falling prey to the evil that others propose to do is to stand up against them with our words and our deeds.”

Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim

 

Parshat Shelach Lecha On the spies slanderous report

“We felt like tiny grasshoppers, and that’s how we appeared to them!”

With this comment the spies ended their slanderous and dispiriting report about the land of Israel and its inhabitants.  This statement speaks volumes about why they were afraid to continue their destiny to inherit the land.

The spies had no contact with the locals.  The Torah records them traveling through the land, collecting a bit of fruit, sizing up the cities and lay of the land and assessing the population.  Nowhere is there any indication of conflict or even contact.  The midrash teaches that the residents were preoccupied with their own doings and paid no mind to the small group of travelers.

If that is the case, then how could the Israelites know how they appeared to the Canaanites?  What made them think that the residents saw them as grasshoppers?

Rabbi Efraim Davidson comments:  It is simply because that is how they saw themselves.  “We felt like tiny grasshoppers.” As former slaves their view of themselves was as small and powerless.  That led them to project those feelings and perceptions upon the Canaanites.  “And that’s how we appeared to them.” They thought of themselves as weak, and therefore they were. They thus paralyzed themselves into fearful rebellion and retreat.  They forgot that it was God who fought for them against Egypt, and who would insure their victory in Israel.

Have you ever faced a challenge and withered, feeling that you were too small or weak to succeed?  It is possible that your own self-doubt, rather than the challenge itself, kept you from succeeding.  We have enormous power to do great things.  We are not too weak to make a hard marriage better.  We are not so puny that we can’t retrain ourselves toward a more lucrative career.  We are not so powerless over our own character that we can’t become spiritually elevated and highly ethical people. If you think of yourself as weak, you certainly will be.  However, if you see yourself as capable and strong, and you think big, you can accomplish great things for yourself and for those around you.

There is a midrash that imagines God responding to the spies: “I take no objection to your saying, ‘we looked like grasshoppers to ourselves.’ But I take offense when you say ‘so we must have looked to them.’ How do you know how I made you look to them. Perhaps you appeared to them as an angels!”

Rabbi Salomon Gruenwald explains: “You see, according to the Midrash, God did not punish the spies for their fear. After all, you can’t blame someone for how they honestly feel. What God objected to was how the spies saw themselves through the eyes of the Canaanites. Their sin was to project their fears and insecurities onto others. Their sin is was taking responsibility for their fears. And it occurs to me – thinking about the parsha in this way – that we are all at times guilty of this sin. Often when we are afraid or unhappy we blame others for how we feel. Perhaps it is too painful to confront our own fears and shortcomings. So we project those feeling onto others – we blame others for our feelings or we convince ourselves that it is only others who stand in the way of our success and happiness. I don’t mean to say that our fears are baseless or imaginary. Like the spies, our assessment may be factually correct. And I also don’t think that we should beat ourselves up for what we feel. After all, the spies were not condemned for their fear or self-doubt. The sin of which we are guilty – the sin of the spies – is the sin of lacking vision. It is a failure of imagination that leads us to blame others for our shortcomings. It is the failure to see possibilities in the midst of great challenges.”

Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim

 

Parshat Beha’alotecha on Moses and his burden

In this week’s parsha, Moses has a breakdown. It is the lowest emotional ebb of his entire career as a leader. Listen to his words to God: “Why have you brought this trouble on your servant? What have I done to displease you that you put the burden of all these people on me? Did I conceive all these people? Did I give them birth? . . . I cannot carry all these people by myself; the burden is too heavy for me. If this is how you are going to treat me, please go ahead and kill me—if I have found favor in your eyes—and do not let me face my own ruin.” (Numbers 11: 11-15) Yet the cause seems utterly disproportionate to its effect. The people have done what they so often did before. They complain.

Rabbi Sacks comments: “In the chapters that follow, Moses seems to lack the unshakable determination he had in Exodus. At times, as in the episode of the spies, he seems surprisingly passive, leaving it to others to fight the battle. At others, he seems to lose control and becomes angry, something a leader should not do. Something has changed, but what? Why the breakdown, the burnout, the despair? …

The fundamental difference between the books of Exodus and Numbers, is that in Exodus, Moses is called on to exercise technical leadership. The Israelites are enslaved? God sends signs and wonders, ten plagues, and the Israelites go free. They need to escape from Pharaoh’s chariots? Moses lifts his staff and God divides the sea. They are hungry? God sends manna from heaven. Thirsty? God sends water from a rock. When they have a problem, the leader, Moses, together with God, provides the solution. The people do not have to exert themselves at all.

In the book of Numbers, however, the equation has changed. The Israelites have completed the first part of their journey. They have left Egypt, reached Sinai, and made a covenant with God. Now they are on their way to the Promised Land. Moses’ role is now different. Instead of providing technical leadership, he has to provide adaptive leadership. He has to get the people to change, to exercise responsibility, to learn to do things for themselves while trusting in God, instead of relying on God to do things for them.

It is precisely because Moses understands this that he is so devastated when he sees that the people haven’t changed at all. They are still complaining about the food, almost exactly as they did before the revelation at Mount Sinai, before their covenant with God, before they themselves had built the sanctuary, their first creative endeavour together.

He has to teach them to adapt, but he senses – rightly as it transpires – that they are simply unable to change their pattern of response, the result of years of slavery. They are passive, dependent. They have lost the capacity for self-motivated action. As we eventually discover, it will take a new generation, born in freedom, to develop the strengths needed for self-governance – the precondition of freedom… Moses, with the insight of the greatest of the prophets, intuitively sees all this. Hence his despair and wish to die. It is far easier to be a technical leader than an adaptive one. It is easy to leave it to God, hard to realise that God is calling us to responsibility, to become His partners in the work of redemption. Of course, the Torah does not leave it there. In Judaism, despair never has the last word. God comforts Moses, tells him to recruit seventy elders to share the burden of leadership with him, and gives him the strength to carry on. Adaptive leadership is, for Judaism, the highest form of leadership. That is what the prophets did. Without relieving the people of their responsibility, they gave them a vision and a hope. They spoke difficult, challenging truths, and they did so with a passion that still has the power to inspire the better angels of our nature.

Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim