(Deuteronomy 31:1 - 31:30) Jewish Education. From the earliest age, our daughters came to expect one question at our weekly Shabbat dinner table, and woe unto the unfortunate lass who did not have a ready answer. The question was always the same: "What are you reading?" Any answer was acceptable, so long as it wasn't 'nothing'. Over time, the kids were so excited about sharing their latest book that they began reading them aloud to the table. So it was that a simple pedagogical question developed into a charming element of our Shabbat feast that continues to this day. After we take turns sharing with the table the good things that have transpired in the course of the previous week, after the words of Torah, after the singing and the eating (and the ritual walking of Guinness the dog), we settle down to hear a chapter or two in the latest saga. I have now been plugged in to The Sisters Grimm (ALL nine volumes), The 39 Clues (15+ volumes), The Mysterious Benedict Society (three), The Heroes' Guide to Saving Your Kingdom (three), Dear Dumb Diary (dozens), and many, many more. The giggles and smiles that fill our house from these stories have become an integral part of our Oneg Shabbat, the transcendental joy of the Shabbat experience. This week's parashah is all about Jewish Education. Hashem commands Moses to assemble the Jewish People once every seven years to hear the Reading of the entire Torah. No one was exempt: every man, woman and child was required to attend. This mitzvah is called Hak-Hel, the Gathering. But Moses quickly grasped that once every seven years wasn't nearly enough. Such was our love for Gcd's Torah that Moses ordained that we read the Torah, not once every seven years, but once every seven days. That is why about 1/50 of the Torah is read every Shabbat, completing the entire Five Books of Moses, from Bereishit/Genesis through Devarim/Deuteronomy, once every year. But even that wasn't enough. Such was our love for Gcd's Torah that Ezra decreed that even three days shouldn't pass without reading the Torah. So every Monday and Thursday, on the ancient market days when Jews would gather, we read a few verses from the weekly Torah portion as well. But even that wasn't enough. Such was our love for Gcd's Torah that anytime Jews assemble, a word of Torah, a nugget of Truth, a clever insight, is shared.
Rabbi Chananiah ben Teradion said: when even two people gather and a word of Torah is shared between them, the Divine Spirit rests upon them. (Avot 3:3)
Jews are perpetual learners, permanent students, and Jewish Education is at the heart of the secret of Jewish Survival. Show me a Jew who sets aside time to study Torah every day, and I'll show you a Jew whose children, whose grandchildren and great-grandchildren will be identifiable Jews decades from now. Tragically, some forms of Jewish Education left a bad taste in the mouths of many people. Cheders and Talmud Torahs tried to give a sprinkling of Judaism to public school students, but multiple studies over several decades have shown that the Talmud Torah model of Jewish Education is worthless. In fact, Talmud Torah accomplished the opposite: this negative experience left many (otherwise) highly educated people with the impression that Torah study and Judaism were not worthy of their time and attention. There's a great clip from Woody Allen's movie Radio Days that captures the geist of supplementary Jewish Education:
Yet studying the Torah, is, as we say in our daily prayers, our very lives and length of our days. If we have abandoned our commitment to the daily study of Torah, is it any wonder that Judaism in America is rapidly dying? As I have written elsewhere, I believe we are entering a period of great economic, political and social instability. The Talmud tells us the secret of surviving this turmoil:
The students of Rabbi Elazar asked him: What should a person do to save themselves from the birth pangs of the Messianic Age? He responded: be engaged in the study of Torah and do great acts of kindness to your fellowman. (Sanhedrin 98B)
In order to survive the coming maelstrom, we must do outrageous and unrequited acts of goodness for each other, and we must study Torah. Like two medicines, the effect is only achieved by taking both; one without the other won't work. Commit to sticking your nose in a book of the Torah for ten minutes every day. It doesn't matter what you study, find or discover an area of interest: the choices are endless and almost the entire 3,500 year-old treasury of Jewish thought and literature is available in English. If the ossified Jewish Establishment was genuinely interested in Jewish survival, it would re-prioritize allocations to ensure a free, quality Hebrew Day School education to every single Jewish child in North America. The goal should be: not a single Jewish kid in public school. But since your feckless Federation leadership won't do it, earmark your Federation dollars exclusively for that goal. Or better yet, completely bypass the Federation and their scandalously high overhead, and donate directly to the Scholarship Fund of the Hebrew Day School of your choice. Let's start a revolution, you and me, right here and now between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. Whatever you lose sleep over - injustice, hunger, sovereign debt, Iranian Nukes, ISIS, crumbling social morays, galloping inflation, police brutality - if you want to change the world, begin by changing yourself, begin by committing to a regime of daily Torah study. Rabbi Elazar had it going on. Get Jewishly educated, particularly (especially) if you think you know all there is to know Jewish-wise. Because as the saying goes, the more you know, the more you know you don't know. He speaks the truth, my faithful Indian companion. Shabbat Shalom and Shanah Tovah!
(Deuteronomy 16:18-21:9) Those of you of my vintage may remember a cult film In the early '70's called Billy Jack starring Tom Laughlin in the title role. Billy Jack was the ultimate outsider: part Native American, a Green Beret Vietnam war veteran and martial arts master. In the context of the time: he was bi-racial, rejected by both whites and Indians; he was a Vietnam war veteran at a time when Vietnam vets were being publicly humiliated; and a martial arts master long before anyone in the US had ever heard of Kung Fu or Bruce Lee. He was an odd duck, pretty much ostracized by everybody. Except for the people he defends. In the film, Billy Jack takes on predatory biker gangs and corrupt politicians who prey on the weak and the vulnerable of their society. For those whom the law had abandoned, he uses his own unique brand of street justice and martial arts to extract justice and becomes a cult hero in the process. The one thing that stands out in my mind about Billy Jack (and I must confess I haven't seen the movie since I was 10 years old) is how he prepared for the big showdown with the baddies. In a strange melding of Native American spirituality and reminiscences of his Hapkido Master, he goes out into the desert for self-reflection, enduring a rigorous regimen of spiritual preparation, self-awareness and physical discipline. It was only by turning inward that he could prepare for the battle to come, because in the battle between good and evil, spiritual, not physical, preparation is demanded. This week's parashah is all about War and Peace. Moses describes how to establish an orderly, peaceful civil society based upon the rule of law. He also discusses the rules of War. The Jewish Army was an army of citizens: we had no professional soldiery. Deuteronomy Chapter 20 describes the words of encouragement given to the citizen-soldier by the Cohen, the Jewish Priest: 'this is a defensive war, and A-lmighty Gcd will go before you to fight your battles for you and perform miracles for you as He has done since the days of Moses.' After this oration, the Priests would then offer army exemptions for newlyweds and the like. And after that, the Torah says:
[After the Priests has spoken] the Shotrim (police/sergeants) added on the following exemption: Let any man who is afraid or is soft-hearted go and return to his home, lest he demoralize the hearts of his brethren like his. (20:8)
The commentators cite a dispute in the Talmud (Sotah 43) on this verse between Rabbi Yossi of the Galilee and Rabbi Akiva: Rabbi Akiva understood "soft-hearted" to mean that, despite the priestly promises of success on the battlefield, this man lacked faith in the outcome of battle. In other words, he lacked faith in Gcd. Rabbi Yossi, however, felt that the soft-hearted soldier believed plenty in Gcd, only he didn't believe in himself: in reflecting upon his own behavior, the soft-hearted man realized that he was not deserving of the Providential intervention promised by the Cohen. He believed that the Jewish Army would prevail, but he feared that he personally might not survive owing to his less than valorous behavior in his private life. And who is valorous? He who possesses self-control. As the Torah states: he who is slow to anger is greater than a hero, and he who is the master of his emotions is greater than a general who conquers a city. (Avot 4:1) This week, secret codicils of the Iranian Nuclear Agreement were revealed which allow the Iranians to verify compliance of the agreement with their own nuclear experts. In other words, the wolves are guarding the hen house.
Neither advocates nor opponents of the Agreement seriously believe that the Iranian Nuclear Development Program is intended to develop therapeutic medical radio-isotopes. (Oh, sorry: except the BBC.) Throughout the negotiations and even as recently as this week, the Iranians have publicly and unabashedly reiterated their stated goal of destroying Israel and her seven million Jews. And if the Twentieth Century has taught us anything, it's that when demagogues threaten genocide it is foolhardy ignore those threats. Iran and her allies will attack Israel with every means at its disposal when it believes it has sufficient advantage to prevail. At best, the agreement might defer war until the politicians responsible for crafting it are no longer accountable for their actions. That's the general modus operandi of politicians: take the money now, and kick the can down the road for someone else to deal with later. But when all the dust settles, tens of billions of dollars in hard currency will have been released to the Iranians in exchange for unverifiable assurances of their goodwill. The goodwill of the same Iranians who are gleefully and very openly preparing for genocide. The Iranian Nuclear Agreement guarantees war. But take heart: the Torah likens the Jewish People to the moon: no matter how bright it may appear in the night sky, the moon has no internal light of its own, its brightness reflects a mere fraction of the light of the sun. So too the Jewish People: the light that others see in us is actually the Gcdly Light as reflected through the Covenant of Sinai. In other words, those who fight Israel have no quarrel with us; they fight against Gcd Himself, and can never prevail. As the Torah says, Gcd will go before the Jewish People to fight our battles for us and save us. Just ask the Egyptians, the Babylonians, the Assyrians, the Greeks, the Romans, the Nazis. They may get in their licks, but we always wind up on the winning side of history, surviving and enduring. The question is Rabbi Yossi's: are we worthy of that Divine Intervention? Are we worthy of the Miracle? Again: who is a Gibor (valorous)? He who possesses self-control. As the Torah states: he who is slow to anger is greater than a hero, and he who is the master of his emotions is greater than a general who conquers a city. (Avot 4:1) How well served are we by a Jewish Leadership that is dragged through the mud almost weekly by revelations of sexual or financial impropriety? By the leadership of gutless technocrats who weigh every decision not on the basis of right or wrong, but on the basis of mitigating liability, and who tilt justice towards the haves at the expense of the have-nots? Who publicly blather pieties while privately chasing power, money and sex? We need Giborim (the brave, the mighty) as our leaders, not the rachi halev, the soft of heart and mind, like our current crop of complacent, corpulent cowards. And what of ourselves? All Jews (and everyone who believes in the One True Gcd) must prepare for the coming difficulties by making ourselves worthy of the Miracle that is about to occur: by rectifying our behavior, returning to the basics, and preparing spiritually for the rocky path ahead. Difficult times await. Here and now, during the penitential month of Elul, we must each go to the "desert" for self-reflection, spiritual preparation and self-awareness. For it is only by turning to Gcd as a united people with one heart that we will make ourselves worthy of the great Redemption which is about to unfold before our very eyes. Shabbat Shalom.
(Numbers 16:1-18:32) Korach was one clever cookie. By dangling plums of power and glory, he cobbled together a rebellion from the most improbable group of malcontents: (1) some firstborn among the various Tribes of Israel, who sought the restoration of the traditional priesthood to the eldest sons; (2) some Reubenites, who, as descendants of Jacob's firstborn son Reuben, felt entitled to the priesthood; and (3) some Levites, who were dissatisfied with the support role they were assigned in Gcd's service, and coveted the priesthood for themselves. These rival factions could agree on nothing - except that the High Priest Aaron (and his sons the Cohanim) had to go. Korach knew that he couldn't keep his promises to them all, but no matter: they were useful idiots in the advancement of his secret agenda: a coup d'etat to topple Moses, to be replaced by none other than - Korach himself. And why not? Korach was rich where his cousin Moses was not; charismatic where Moses was reserved and stern. (Korach probably had whiter teeth, fresher breath and could bench press twice his body weight, too.) But for all his advantages, Korach, as his name hints in the Hebrew, was cold as ice and just as slippery. Wealth made Korach insufferably arrogant (as wealth is wont to do), and his natural charisma drove his limitless ambition.
At the heart of Korach's insurrection is a question which bears heavily on Jewish life to this day: does "religion" serve Gcd, or is religion meant to serve us? Korach stroked the egos of the insurrectionists by arguing that the purpose of religion was to serve them: after all,"kulam kedoshim," all the people are holy. Accordingly, Moses' lawbook should be edited to conform to the evolving needs and aesthetic sensibilities of the people. In this view, the synagogue is a spiritual service center, where people turn to have their afflictions comforted, their marriages sanctioned, their dead buried, their children bar-mitzvahed. And just like the local tire shop or dry cleaner, you don't give the place much thought when you aren't in need of the services provided. The consumerist view posits that religion is like powerful medicine: good to know it's there when you need it, but who takes Dayquil if you don't have the flu?
In the spiritual marketplace, the customer is king. Is your rabbi coming down a little hard on your lifestyle choices? No problem, go rabbi shopping! There are boatloads of others, one of whom is sure to give religious sanction to anything - and I mean anything - your little heart desires, and all for the most reasonable of fees. As savvy consumers, Korach and his motley crew were trading up - on both Moses and Aaron. By contrast, Moses, the eved Hashem, the servant of Gcd, embodied the opposite view: that the religious life is a life of service, first to Gcd and then, by extension, to our fellow man. Avodah, service, is all about performing Gcd's mitzvot with joy. Avodah is recognizing that the mitzvot come from Gcd through Moses, but not from Moses. Thus it's about doing the mitzvah even if we don't fully understand why, (and even as we resolve to gain deeper understanding) because we trust the Source. Avodah is about loving Gcd by doing His mitzvot with all your heart and all your soul and all your might. In other words, true piety is not about calculating the take, the bennies that we extract from our religious experience as a spiritual consumer. Rather, it's all about the moment-to-moment hard work of spiritual growth and development, of what we give of ourselves to Gcd, quietly and without fanfare. This contrast between Moses and Korach's view of the utility of religion is reflected in Pirkei Avot (5:17):
Every argument that is for the sake of heaven is destined to endure. But if it is not for the sake of heaven -- it is not destined to endure. What is an example of an argument for the sake of heaven? The argument of Hillel and Shammai. What is an example of an argument not for the sake of heaven? The argument of Korach and all of his followers.
Korach wasn't casting his eyes heavenward, in the service of Gcd, he was casting his eyes downward, dispensing candy to the Jews. Moses had nothing to offer them but spinach and hard work. Which is easier to sell? Tragically, there is a lot of candy for sale in the Jewish world today. We live in a time when it has become fashionable to modernize Judaism with all kinds of updates and tweaks and improvements. The thorny problem is Moses' Lawbook, which is an obstacle to the new-and-improved Judaism. So Job One must be to delegitimize the Torah, undercut its authority. Then we can begin crafting a Judaism in our own image. Don't like the wording of a particular prayer? A little liturgical nip-and-tuck is in order. Trim the fat. Cut out the parts you don't like, or better yet, write your own prayer book, which reflects your uber-sophisticated modern sensibilities (because let's just say it - it's all about you.) Don't like a particular mitzvah? Cut and paste it out of the Book. Better yet, chuck the Torah out the window altogether and design your own customized faith system. Invent your own mitzvot. Then head out to the marketplace where you're sure to find a rabbi to call it "Judaism." And the pluralism thought-police demand that we equate candy corn and corn corn. The Edward Scissorhands routine has become so pervasive in American Judaism that it becomes harder by the day to find the simple faith of our forbears, that dedication to truth, so nobly embodied for all generations by Moses. Ultimately, Gcd had to intervene to remind people that the heart of the Jewish faith is not the Jewish People or Jewish Tradition, but the service of Gcd. Korach was literally swallowed by his own ambition, and his rebels destroyed. But as the parsha goes on to tell, the ripples of that rebellion spread in their time and in ours. Candy tastes good going down, but you will get sick and die if candy is your only food. Snickers doesn't satisfy. So it should come as no surprise that many Jews are rejecting the empty spiritual junk food on which they were raised in their suburban temples, or, at the other extreme, certain yeshivot where rigid conformity substitutes for honest intellectual inquiry. The spiritual seekers look instead to feed their souls from someone else's garden. But more than a few have turned inward to discover the rich spiritual nutrition of avodah. "Behold the days are coming, saith the Lcrd, when I will send a terrible famine in the land; not a hunger for bread or a thirst for water, but a hunger to hear the authentic words of Hashem." (Amos 8:11) My prayer is that the entirety of the Jewish people will drink from the vivifying waters of Torah, and come to merit the great appellation conferred on Moses, Eved Ne'eman, the faithful servant of Gcd. Shabbat Shalom.
(Advance apologies to Rodgers & Hammerstein.) Sefirah is the seven week period between Pesach and Shavuot. During part of this time in early spring, for 33 days, Jews observe a period of mild mourning. Primarily, we avoid live concerts, we put off weddings, and (if you're a guy) you grow a beard like a mourner. The reason is to be found in the Talmud, Tractate Yevamot 62b:
It was said that Rabbi Akiva had 12,000 pairs of disciples from Gabbatha to Antipatris; and all of them died at the same time because they did not treat each other with respect...A Tanna taught: "All of them died between Passover and Shavuot". Rabbi Hama ben Abba (or it might have been Rabbi Hiyya ben Abin) said: "All of them died a cruel death." What was it? Rabbi Nahman replied: "Askarah."
In my ill-spent and dissolute youth (smile), I must confess that I just couldn't get into the mode of mourning. I mean it's springtime - springtime! The world is coming alive again! Birds are a-twitter (back when 'twitter' only meant a melodious avian articulation.) Trees are in blossom, love is in the air, everything is fresh and new and vivid and just so...so breathtakingly beautiful. And every spring I am reminded of a line in Saul Bellow's Henderson the Rain King:“Every twenty years or so the earth renews itself in young maidens," a renewal that undoubtedly occurs, as do the crocuses, daffodils and tulips, in the spring. So, as I say, I didn't understand. To compound my confusion, the reasoning of the Talmud was very obscure. 24,000 students? What does that even mean, for one guy to have 24,000 students? How does one teacher relate in a meaningful way to 24,000 disciples? (Even today, the Mir Yeshivah in Jerusalem, one of the largest in the world with hundreds of rabbis on staff, only has about 7,500 students.) And what does it mean that they died because they dissed one another? We're talking about the disciples of Rabbi Akiva here, arguably one of the greatest rabbis in all of Jewish history. And they all died of a cruel death called "askarah?" And the plague magically stopped on one specific day? And why do we traditionally celebrate that day, the 33rd day of the count, with picnics and bonfires and archery? None of it made any sense to me. How could it be that the Sages of Israel were so out of touch with the palpable, vital reality of springtime that they ordained a period of sadness and mourning? Didn't they look out the window? The incongruity of sefirah and spring was screaming at me. And then my wife's only brother was killed by a drunk driver. Michael Allen Ziegler, z"l, was killed during sefirah. He was only 24, single, in the springtime of his life. And to compound the pain, he was killed by his best friend, who walked away from the twisted wreck uninjured. And then I began to understand. I began to understand the futility of trying to comfort an inconsolable wife. I began to understand how the blossoming flowers that spring held no solace; indeed, in their very beauty they seemed to mock Michael's death. I began to understand how the beauty of spring is fleeting when weighed against the inevitability, the permanence, of death. The Sages, in their wisdom, were counseling temperance in enjoying the beauties of spring. 'Soak up the loveliness of spring,' they seemed to be saying, 'but don't be overcome by the seductions of youth, by fleeting beauty, no matter how immediate or palpable it may seem in the moment.' The historical fact is that Rabbi Akiva's "students" were actually the warriors in Bar Kochba's rebellion. Like Uncle Mike, they were in the prime of their lives - youthful, idealistic and beautiful. The "cruel death" his disciples suffered was the decisive military rout by the Roman Legions in the fields of Beitar. Those brave young men died in battle, and the battle - and their lives - ended on a single day in 135 CE. Also ended was any hope of Jewish political sovereignty for the next 18 very long and dark centuries. So that explains the archery and bonfires used to commemorate Lag B'Omer, the 33rd day of the count (which is this coming Thursday, BTW.) But the Gemara couldn't tell the real story, could it? Not with the Roman censors looking on and the fears of reprisal against the pockets of remaining Jews. So it speaks in hints and ambiguities. With wiser eyes, it must be said that the loss of our national sovereignty and personal freedoms are indeed things worth mourning over. So yeah, go sit under a tree in the park and enjoy the gifts of spring...but tuck a Pirkei Avot (Wisdom of the Sages) under one arm, too. Shabbat Shalom.
