Jun 26, 2015 | Torat Devorah
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
Jun 18, 2015 | Torat Devorah
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
Jun 11, 2015 | Torat Devorah
“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
Jun 4, 2015 | Torat Devorah
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
May 28, 2015 | Torat Devorah
The Kohen’s blessing states that “May Hashem bless you and watch over you”. If Hashem blesses us, doesn’t He also watch over us? Rabbi Mordechai Katz comments: We are requesting that Hashem “bless” us with material wealth, and “watch over us” to protect us from misusing such wealth. We must always remember that it is Hashem’s blessing that entitles us to our lot and, accordingly, remain humbly grateful for, and charitable with, whatever wealth Hashem bestows upon us. Rashi notes that the blessing for Hashem to “watch over us” also includes our wish to be protected from the dangers — both physical and spiritual — that wealth can bring about.
“Speak unto Aaron and his sons, saying ‘this is how you are to bless the children of Israel.'” This verse describes the method of bestowing a blessing. However, the priests had not yet been previously commanded to bestow a blessing. Why doesn’t the Torah state the commandment to bestow a blessing before describing the method for its implementation? Rabbi Abraham Twerski explains: Aaron’s personality is described as “one who loved peace and pursued peace, one who loved people” (Pirke Avos 1:12). The Midrash interprets the verse in Proverbs (22:9), “one with a bountiful eye is blessed,” to also mean that one is who benign can also bestow blessings unto others. Hence, it was taken for granted that given Aaron’s (and, in turn, his sons) intense love for people, he would desire to bless them and that, accordingly, all that was needed was the method for doing so. The Talmud tells us that we must all be disciples of Aaron and emulate him. While the bestowing of formal blessings is a priestly function, one shouldn’t hesitate to offer one’s “blessing” to others. The Talmud’s instruction also reminds us that we should each adopt Aaron’s love for our fellow man and thus become one who naturally offers blessing.
The offerings of all of the leaders of the twelve tribes were identical. It is remarkable that the Torah describes in detail each such offering, particularly given the fact that we know that each word in the Torah has special meaning (in fact, many laws are derived from even a single word). Why then does the Torah elaborate about the offerings, when they could have been described much more succinctly? Rabbi Yitzchak Meir explains that while the offerings themselves were identical, each was an original offering for reasons of its own. Although each tribe chief brought the same offering, each one had his own reasons for doing so, and none simply imitated another. The Torah goes to such great length to emphasize the characteristic of individuality that is obviously of paramount importance. We live in age of “mass production” in many respects, yet we must never lose sight of the importance of individuality. Within the constraints of Torah law, there are many opportunities for individuality and creativity and it is these opportunities that have given vigor and vitality to Judaism throughout history.
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
May 22, 2015 | Torat Devorah
The Torah states, “Hashem spoke to Moshe in the Wilderness of Sinai…” The Midrash cites the verse from Yirimiyah, “G’d said to the Jewish people, ‘You are the generation that witnessed the Word of G’d. Have I been a desert to Israel, a land of darkness? Yet you came with a claim against Moshe saying: Why did you take us up out of Egypt to die in the desert?’ Did I treat you as if you were in a desert? If a mortal king were to go out into the desert, does he have the tranquility and comfort of his own palace? Does he have the same amount of food and drink available to him? In the desert, I accommodated you with a setting that is the equivalent of a palace. With Clouds of Glory, I took you out of Egypt where you were slaves to Pharaoh. In addition, I gave you three redeemers who accommodated your needs…In the merit of Moshe, you were provided with the Manna. In the merit of Aaron, you were provided with the Clouds of Glory… In the merit of Miriam, who sang praises at the Sea, you were provided with the wellspring.”
Chazal tell us, “The Torah was given to those who ate of the Manna.” Meaning, the Torah was given to the generation who were sustained through the spiritual nourishment of the Manna. The Gemara in Tractate Yomah tells us that the Manna was heavenly food. It is referred to as “lechem abeirim” The Manna was composed of the spiritual nourishment that sustains the angels in physical form. Through their spiritual nourishment the Jewish people were able to comprehend and internalize the concepts of the Torah on the most profound level. Rabbi Yosef Kalatsky explains: Since Moshe was the individual who was qualified to be the conduit through which the Torah was given to the Jewish people, it is logical to say that the Manna, which is spiritual in its essence, should be given to them in his merit. Chazal do not reveal to us the linkage between the Manna and Moshe. The Clouds of Glory were given to the Jewish people in the merit of Aaron, the High Priest, who was the spiritual equivalent of his brother Moshe. The Clouds of Glory protected the Jewish people in the desert for forty years. What was unique about Miriam that her merit should provide the wellspring on behalf of the Jewish people for forty years? Miriam together with her mother Yocheved were the Jewish midwives who defied the dictate of Pharaoh to kill the newborn Jewish males. The Jewish people thrived in Egypt in the merit of Miriam and Yocheved. They did not heed the command of Pharaoh because “they feared G’d.” It was because of this exceptional level of reverence for G’d that they merited to have “houses.” Regarding Miriam, she merited to have the “house of kingship (malchus).” However, it was not because of this that she merited the gift of the wellspring, but rather the Midrash tells us it was because “she sang praises at the Sea.” Moshe sang the praises of G’d at the time of the splitting of the Sea for the men, but it was Miriam who led the women in song. Why was her expression of song so significant that the Jewish people should merit the wellspring on her on her behalf? Miriam articulated and delineated the praises of G’d in a unique and expressive manner to the women. Because she elucidated the events that transpired at the Sea in song, she brought the women to another level of clarity and appreciation of G’d. In addition, the women’s expression of praise was a public sanctification of G’d’s Name. Through Miriam’s articulation of what had transpired at the splitting of the Sea, she merited that the wellspring come about through her.
Prepared by Devorah Abenhaim
