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Tuesday, July 12, 2016

Balak 5776 - A Question of Propriety

Echoes of Eden
Rabbi Ari Kahn
Parashat Balak 5776
A Question of Propriety

Something had changed. These were not the people who had left Egypt; that generation had already perished. This was a new generation, either born or raised in freedom. The only leader they had known was Moshe; Pharaoh was a name from the past, someone their parents told them about on Passover. This generation would be different; they would see the Promised Land.

The previous parashah, Hukat, ends with a sudden stirring among the nations who would face the first wave of the Israelite conquest of Canaan. And other nations who had anticipated the Israelite fighting forces, who were dangerously close to their land. Much of this week’s parasha is concerned with the machinations of these nations. They dread the impending confrontation, and come up with an original approach to head off the conquest: Tremendous resources are invested in an effort to curse the Israelites. When this strategy fails, they infiltrate the Israelite camp with a clever sort of Trojan horse, in a last-ditch attempt to corrupt the community from within and render the Israelites unworthy of God’s protection: Moavite women approach the Israelite camp and seduce the men, first with pleasures of the flesh and then with exotic religious practices.

God’s anger is kindled:

God said to Moshe, Gather all the nation’s leaders, and [instruct them to] kill them [in the name of] God, publicly (literally, before the sun). This will reverse God's display of anger against Israel.' (25:3)

Pinchas then jumps in and actively carries out God’s decree by killing a Jewish man and Midianite woman. His action, the reactions to it, and the significance of this event are all somewhat confusing: First, the language is cumbersome and unclear: God instructed to kill “them” (otam); who does this pronoun refer to? Is it the Jewish men? Is it the Moavite women? Is it those who were guilty of inappropriate sexual behavior, or is it those who participated in the idolatry that followed? In a later verse, the Torah clarifies that the Israelite man killed by Pinchas was himself one of the leaders: Zimri ben Salu is described as the leader of the tribe of Shimon (25:14). As such, Zimri should have been part of the solution, but instead was part of the problem.

Zimri contented that he was not one of “them;” he was one of the leaders. He was not guilty of idolatry, only an old fashioned sin of the flesh, and his partner in this sin was not a Moavite, she was a Midianite. This last part of his defense was especially sensitive and was intended as a personal attack against Moshe: If a relationship with a Midianite woman was inappropriate, how did Moshe himself come to marry a woman from Midian – the daughter of Yitro, “Kohen of Midian?”

The parallel that Zimri implies is clearly preposterous: Moshe married Ziporah, and never engaged in the public displays of sexuality for which Zimri stood accused. On the other hand, after Zimri voices this comparison, Moshe finds himself in a very difficult situation: If he responds or takes action, he will be branded a hypocrite; Zimri paints Moshe as an extremist, a charge so subjective and lacking substance that anything Moshe says or does can be used against him as “proof.” On the other hand, if Moshe fails to speak out or act, the outrageous behavior will spread and he will appear guilty as charged.

One more consideration may have stayed Moshe’s hand: Coming on the heels of the episode with the rock, for which Moshe was severely censured by God, Moshe may have been a bit “gun shy.” He seems hesitant to fulfill God’s command before taking some extra time to be certain he has fully and precisely understood God’s instructions. As we have seen, the instructions in this case were not completely clear. Who was to be killed? And by whom? Particularly regarding Zimri –a tribal leader who was, at the same time, one of the sinners - Moshe hesitates.

Before responding, Moshe must weigh not only right and wrong, but the people’s perception of his behavior: Just as hitting the rock gave them the impression that it was he (and Aharon) – and not God - who had miraculously provided them with water, so, now, he feared that the people would be given a mistaken impression – namely, that there is one set of rules for the masses and another set of rules for the leaders. Moshe did not want to give the impression that anyone – not even he himself – was above the law. The possibility that there could be a perception of impropriety paralyses him --and it is precisely Moshe’s personal sense of propriety that Zimri was banking on: He cynically exploits Moshe’s personal decency in order to neutralize him.

Against this backdrop, Pinchas leaps into action. He sees through Zimri’s cynicism and duplicity; he understands the instructions given to Moshe by God, and implements them with great precision.

Even Moshe’s “inaction” contains a great lesson: When it comes to leaders, we must expect not only the highest standard of personal comportment, but also the perception of decency. Any other type of behavior gives rise to cynicism, pollutes the public domain, and leads to “trickle down” immorality. Moshe, the greatest leader we have ever had, teaches us this invaluable lesson --even when he does absolutely nothing.

For more in depth study see:

Echoes of Eden

Sunday, July 10, 2016

Audio and Essays Parashat Balak

Audio and Essays Parashat Balak


New Echoes of Eden Project:
A Question of Propriety

Audio:
Sex Idolatry and Death

Parshat Balak -Understanding the protagonists

Parshat Balak / Balak and Biliam = Amalek

Parshat Balak - Linking the 2 parts of the parsha

Parshat Balak / The Power of Bilam


Essays:

Parashat Balak 5774 Reading Anti-Semites

Friends and Family

Opening the Mouth of the Donkey

The Evil Eye

Balaam's Curse


Monday, July 4, 2016

Parashat Chukat 5776 - An Enigma Wrapped in a Riddle

Echoes of Eden      
Rabbi Ari Kahn
Parashat Chukat 5776
An Enigma Wrapped in a Riddle

In a sense, the Israelites had been lulled into a false sense of security. As they moved from one disaster to the next, Moshe was always there to put out fires. Together with his brother Aharon, Moshe had guided the nation from slavery to freedom, from Mount Sinai to the cusp of the Land of Israel. There had been murmurings, dissent, and even a full-scale rebellion along the way, but the leadership team of Moshe and Aharon, had always been there to avert disaster and expertly guide the people. And then, quite suddenly, out of the blue, we are informed that their leadership, and their very lives, will be coming to an end.

Painting the story in broad strokes is easy: It begins with one of the Israelites’ countless complaints, in this case, about water. A miraculous solution is presented, -- and then, the unexpected: A death sentence is handed down. What had changed? Why was this incident different from all the others? Why this doom, death and disaster now?

The text itself is enigmatic:

God spoke to Moshe, saying, 'Take the staff, and you and Aharon assemble the community. Speak to the rock in their presence, and it will give forth its water…' Moshe took the staff from before God as he had been instructed. Moshe and Aharon then assembled the congregation before the rock. 'Listen now, you rebels!' shouted Moshe. 'Shall we produce water for you from this rock?' With that, Moshe raised his hand, and struck the rock twice with his staff. A huge amount of water gushed out, and the community and their animals were able to drink. God said to Moshe and Aharon, 'You did not have enough faith in Me to sanctify Me in the presence of the Israelites! Therefore, you shall not bring this assembly to the land that I have given you.' These are the Waters of Dispute (Mei Merivah) where the Israelites disputed with God, and where He was sanctified. (B’midbar 20:7-12)

What was their mistake? At what point had Moshe and Aharon displayed a lack of faith? What was the nature of their sin? For millennia, commentaries have discussed and debated the inner meaning of the text. If the Torah chose to honor Moshe by suppressing the details of his sin, the result was the opposite: All manner of accusations have been hurled at Moshe and Aharon to explain the harsh punishment they received. Was it Moshe’s anger (which is not explicitly mentioned in the text)? Did he implement God’s instructions imprecisely? Or was it something else?

Context may be important: This week’s parasha opens with the law of the red heifer. The ashes of this heifer are used as an antidote to the ritual impurity generated by death. Rashi comments on the very particular term used to describe this law:

This is the statute of the Torah: Because Satan and the nations of the world taunt Israel, saying, “What is this commandment, and what purpose does it have?” Therefore, the Torah uses the term “statute –(chok),” [as if to say,] I have decreed it; you have no right to challenge it. (Rashi B’midbar 19:2)

A chok, Rashi explains, is a law whose logic is elusive, a statute we must accept unquestioningly in a “leap of faith.” These types of laws often torture us; they cause us to question ourselves, our reason, even our sanity. Generally, Rashi’s comment (which, in turn, is based on a rabbinic position) is understood as being directed toward the illogical or even paradoxical nature of this particular ritual: The person who was ritually impure “magically” becomes pure when sprinkled with the ashes of the red heifer, while the person who actually prepared the potion becomes impure.

However, Rashi may not be addressing the inner contradiction of the red heifer ritual at all. In fact, it is hardly likely that the “nations of the world” would have been the least bit surprised by a ritual potion that has seemingly magical properties: The entire world of idolatry was involved in the occult. The only thing which may have troubled pagan onlookers - or given them cause to mock this ritual - was the fact that even the Jews adhered to practices that have no logical basis.

As for us, something much deeper torments us in this parasha, a paradox more profound than that of the red heifer ritual: death itself. The mystery of death is the impenetrable thing that lies at the heart of this ritual and is its impetus. It is not the impurity and subsequent purity that challenges our powers of reasoning and tortures our minds; it is the inescapable, inexorable fact that people die.

The death sentence issued against Moshe and Aharon is not arbitrarily placed in this parasha; this broader context is part of the message: Their deaths are part of this greater mystery. God’s rebuke may well be a tantalizing hint at this greater context: Moshe and Aharon failed to lead the people to a level of faith that would have solved this great mystery once and for all, failed to elevate the people to the level of spiritual enlightenment that would have relegated death itself to the past. Moshe’s death, then, remains as much a mystery as any and every other death. We search the text for a clue to Moshe’s sin, in vain. Indeed. in the closing verses of the Torah, we are told that Moshe’s death will forever remain shrouded in mystery:

…And no person knows the place of his burial, unto this day. (D’varim 34:6)

Perhaps Parashat Chukat teaches us that the mystery is not only the place of Moshe’s burial, but the cause of his death as well. Just as no human being knows, has known, or ever will know where Moshe is buried, so, too, does the “reason” for his death - like every other death - remain unknowable. [1]

For more in depth study see:
Echoes of Eden



[1] This idea was suggested by Y. Nachshoni, Hagut b’Parshiot haShavua, B’midbar (p. 651).

Sunday, July 3, 2016

Audio and Essays Parashat Chukat

Audio and Essays Parashat Chukat

New Echoes of Eden Project:
An Enigma Wrapped in a Riddle

Audio:
Déjà vu – all over again?
What was the sin that Moshe was guilty of? Why were Moshe and Aharon punished?

How death permeates the Parasha, why Para Aduma is needed

Parshat Chukat / Yiftach and Morality Haftorah – during usual years

Parshat Chukat
http://rabbiarikahn.com/audio?id=101

Parshat Chukat / The Sin of the People (Pushing Moshe over the edge)

The Para Adumah and the Death of Moshe

Essays:
Déjà vu – all over again?

Embracing Torah

The Ultimate Battle: Morality

To Truly Believe

"Manna or Thistles"

Death



Monday, June 27, 2016

Parashat Korach 5776 - You Say You Want a Revolution

Echoes of Eden
      Rabbi Ari Kahn
Parashat Korach 5776
You Say You Want a Revolution

The time was ripe for a power grab: The frightful report of the spies and the unequivocal sentence handed down were still ringing in the peoples’ ears; the Promised Land never seemed farther away. The strategy was simple: Foment unrest, and stage a takeover. The tactics employed were cynical: Collect the disheartened, and create the facade of a united opposition. The message was populist: “All the people are holy.” (B’midbar 16:3). The results were disastrous: Death and even greater despair. The leader of this uprising was none other than Moshe’s own cousin, Korach.
What may have seemed like a unified revolt was more like a chimera, an impossible confederation between Korach, from the tribe of Levi, a trio of Reuvenites, and a larger group of other men, presumably all firstborn sons who, like the Reuvenites, considered themselves wrongly displaced priests: Until very recently, it would have been the firstborn sons who would have been the kohanim, religious and political leaders who served God in the newly-built Mishkan. Members of the tribe of Reuven, the eldest of Yaakov’s sons, as well as the firstborn sons of other families, forfeited this honor through poor judgment and sin; the Levites were appointed in their stead.
Korach was both power-hungry and an opportunist; in addition, he was a first class manipulator. He was well aware of the heartfelt disappointment of those who had been passed over, and set out to use it to his advantage. In what may have seemed an act of historic reconciliation, he, a member of one of the most illustrious families of the very tribe that had displaced the firstborn, reached out to form a coalition with them. As the new kohanim, and the stewards of the Mishkan, the Levites were more than simply those chosen to replace the firstborn who had sinned; they were actually complicit in what Korach must have described as Moshe’s greatest act of “infamy,” his call to wipe out the perpetrators of the sin of the golden calf. Foremost among those perpetrators were the firstborn; the people who sprang into action and carried out Moshe’s order to kill the sinners were from the tribe of Levi – arguably, even Korach himself had taken sword in hand. To make matters even worse, Korach pointed out, there was one guilty party in the golden calf debacle who had gotten off “scot free:” Moshe’s brother Aharon seems to have benefitted unduly from his family connections; Aharon, then, was the weak link on Moshe’s team.
Korach argues that the firstborn, despite their sin, are still holy. This statement, coming from a member of the privileged clan of Levi, had tremendous impact on those who felt wronged. Charmed by his words and seduced by his apparent sincerity and empathy for their loss, two hundred and fifty men mobilized to shore up Korach’s rebellion.
Yet the two other heads of this three-headed monster cannot be easily reconciled with one another. If Korach himself will become the new high-priest, how does this help the three Reuvenites who stood shoulder to shoulder with Korach? If they are to reclaim the role of the kohanim for their tribe, where does that leave the firstborn sons of the other tribes?
The person who saw through the deception and realized that Korach’s words were no more than demagoguery was the wife of one of the original conspirators, On, son of Pelet - a man who is not only a hapax legomenon but a complete mystery in terms of his disappearance. As the rebellion takes shape, Korach bands together with Datan and Aviram, sons of Eliav, and On son of Pelet - all from the tribe of Reuven. And yet, as the rebellion unfolds, On seems to vanish. In the final act, all the other co-conspirators perish, while On is never heard from again.
The Talmud (Sanhedrin 109b-110a) fills in the details of On’s disappearance, and identifies On’s wife as the heroine of this cautionary tale. On’s wife sees that Korach is taking advantage of the feelings of guilt, frustration and loss that are running rife among the firstborn men. She understands immediately that Korach is making cynical use of their anguish, and using them as pawns in his own game. She understands that although Korach, too, feels he has been slighted, allowing him to feign empathy for the others, he will not hesitate to cast his allies aside when his own desires are fulfilled. She sees that the endgame is poorly conceived and unrealistic; the chimera really has only one head, and that is Korach; the others are being played. Mrs. On spells it out for her idealist husband: “You will never be the leader. You have only one choice to make: Will you follow Moshe, or Korah?” “My ‘comrades’ will soon be here to collect me, so that we may march together in protest,” he worries. She gives him a drink, puts him to bed, and says, “I will take care of this.”
Knowing that the battle cry of this revolution is “Everyone is holy,” (16:3) she stands at the entrance to their tent and brushes her uncovered hair. The other rebels arrive; upon seeing a married woman’s uncovered hair, they quickly turn around and walk away rather than cast their eye on such immodesty. These “holy” people were willing to rebel against Moshe, to slander Aharon, to cast aspersions on those chosen by God Himself, and to undermine the faith of the entire nation – but they were not willing to look at a married woman’s hair.
This Talmudic passage gives full expression to Korach’s manipulation and to the tragic gullibility of his followers. Korach convinces them that they are as holy, if not more holy, than Moshe and Aharon. He convinces them that they should be the ones to don the clothing of the kohen. He convinces them to take incense in hand and approach the Mishkan – despite the fact that even bona fide kohanim who brought incense when not specifically commanded to do so had perished in the Sanctuary. And like Nadav and Avihu, the 250 faux-kohanim perish. Korach, Datan and Aviram, who sent their duped followers to their deaths, do not make that mistake. They never put on the clothing of the kohen, nor do they bring incense; they know what the consequences will be.
In fact, for these three men, the entire charade had very little to do with holiness; that was merely the bait they used to lure in their supporters. For Korach, Datan and Aviram, the rebellion had been about leverage and power from the very start. They hoped that Moshe would retire in order to preserve unity. They expected that this modest, selfless public servant would retreat, and take Aharon with him.
Korach, Datan and Aviram had a very different agenda than the other participants in the rebellion, and different fates awaited them. The two hundred and fifty men who joined Korach in a desperate and misguided attempt to serve God had been led astray by a man who sought glory, power, honor – not holiness. This naïve but misguided group truly sought holiness, and like Nadav and Avihu, they were consumed by a fire that came from God. They departed in a blaze, like a sacrifice on the altar. Korach, Datan and Aviram, on the other hand, sunk into ignominy. They fell into a never-ending abyss.
Only one of the conspirators lived through this episode: On, the son of Pelet, was saved by his wife’s keen insight and decisive action. She understood Korach’s strategy, and saw through his tactics. She understood the tragic, warped piety of the firstborn men who joined the rebellion, men who saw themselves as holier than Aharon, holier even than Moshe - so holy that they could be stopped in their tracks by a few strands of hair.
For more in depth study see:


Echoes of Eden

Sunday, June 26, 2016

Audio and Essays Parashat Korach

Audio and Essays Parashat Korach

New Echoes of Eden Project:
You Say You Want a Revolution

Audio:
Pararshat Korah: Anatomy of a Breakdown #Torah
What was it that drove Korah crazy? And what brought him to form a confederacy with these specific co-conspirators

Law and Narrative
An analysis how the law and narrative in the Book of Bamidbar compliment one another

THE PARALLEL BETWEEN MIRIAM AND  KORACH
How a minor private conversation escalated to a full fledged rebellion

Avoiding Arguments - Not to be like Korach
Analysis of the law – to avoid arguments

Essays:
Living the Dream; Ignoring Reality

Perfidy

A Jealous Guy
Collateral Damage

Rebellion


Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Parashat Sh’lach - Seeing Through Wine-Colored Lenses

Echoes of Eden
Rabbi Ari Kahn
Parashat Sh’lach
Seeing Through Wine-Colored Lenses

It was not supposed to happen this way: A group of scouts was sent to see the Promised Land, presumably to bring back a glowing report that would set the Israelites  on their way into the Land of Israel. Instead, the report was devastating, and the people took it in the worst possible way. Rather than preparing to enter the Land, they were now forced to prepare for a new reality: Life in the foreseeable future would be a nomadic existence, and their ultimate goal would remain beyond their grasp.

And then, as the disappointing story of the spies comes to an end, the Torah moves on; new laws are imparted, in a seeming “return to business as usual.”

The interplay between narrative and law in the book of B’midbar is fascinating. Generally speaking, the book as a whole is comprised of narrative (as opposed to Vayikra, which is almost completely devoid of narrative and consists almost entirely of law). However, the laws that do appear in B’midbar are not randomly placed, inserted merely to break up the narrative; the laws in B’midbar actually seem to be part of the story, and in certain cases may provide commentary and insight. Thus, the law that immediately follows the episode of the spies:

God spoke to Moshe, and said: Speak to the People of Israel and say to them: When you come to the homeland which I am giving to you… (B’midbar 15:1-2)

The message is unmistakable: Despite the setback, all is not lost. God is moving forward, and He is speaking about the day the punishment will be over. Despite the sin of the spies and the people’s collusion in that sin, the Land of Israel has not been forfeited; it is still our homeland. Even now, as they suffer through the consequences of their lapse of faith, as they wander the desert, the Land of Israel remains their birthright. The message continues:

You will present fire offerings to God. They may be burnt offerings, or other sacrifices, either for a general or specific pledge, or for your festivals. Taken from the cattle or smaller animals, they shall create a fragrance that is pleasing to God. (Bmidbar 15:3)

Despite the bleakness of their present situation, God assures them that they will one day have a Temple in Israel in which they will celebrate, bring offerings, and behave in a manner that will be pleasing to Him. The Torah then provides some very specific information about these future offerings, which will include wheat meal, olive oil, and libations of wine. (15:4-5)

This list of offerings does not come as a surprise to us; the Land of Israel is described as a land that flows with milk and honey, as well as “a land of wheat, barley, grapes, figs and pomegranates; a land of oil-olives and honey-[dates].” (D’varim 8:8) Indeed, when the spies arrived in Israel, “they cut a branch and a cluster of grapes, which two men carried on a frame, and they brought of the pomegranates, and of the figs.” (B’midbar 13:23) When they returned to report their findings, they carried the fruit of the land: “We came to the land where you sent us, and surely it flows with milk and honey; and this is its fruit.” (B’midbar 13:27)

The spies saw Israel’s grapes, and they brought back large clusters – so large, in fact, that it took two people to carry each one. Should it have been a surprise that the local inhabitants, whose diet consisted of the oversized fruits of the land, were themselves oversized? Surely, their conclusion should have been that the Land of Israel is indeed a wonderful place. The people should have been thrilled by the knowledge that they, too, would soon be living off the almost magical bounty of the Promised Land, and that their own children would grow big and strong.  Instead, the spies looked only at the physical realities their eyes had seen, and gave no consideration to the spiritual aspects of the land and their connection to it. They were guilty of seeing the future through the lens of the present or the past.

Perhaps this is the underlying message of the laws that immediately follow the episode of the spies. The lesson God teaches with these laws is profound: The future that lies ahead is nothing like the reality of the present. It is a future infused with holiness, with spirituality, not bounded by the mundane, physical constructs that limit the present reality. Look toward the future, He tells them; look ahead to an existence of holiness. The offerings they will bring in the Holy Land are made from wine – and not grapes in their present form. The spies saw only the ‘here and now’, the familiar physical realities of the present. They lost sight of the power that holiness has to transform that mundane reality into something far greater. Like wine, that future reality requires a process; it requires time and patience, faith and trust. This is the message God imparts in these laws. He focuses them on a new perspective of the future.

The spies saw grapes; they were alarmed by the oversized fruits and terrified by the oversized people. Instead, God teaches them to turn their gaze to the future and to see the wine and the holy service of the Beit HaMikdash. Had the spies seen the potential, and not merely the “reality,” they never would have sinned. Had they seen the holiness and not only the mundane, the Israelites’ stay in the desert would have been much shorter. Had they maintained their faith in God’s ability to create a new reality, unlike anything they had experienced in the past, they would have immediately embarked upon the short path to realizing that new reality. Instead, they would have to endure a long and challenging process of maturation in the desert.

The lesson of the juxtaposition of these laws with the episode of the spies is as relevant to us as it was to the generation of the desert: What do we see when we look? Do we see “reality” – which is no more than allowing our eyes to refract the future through visions of the past? Or do we see the future as potential? The lesson of these verses is just this: Seeing the future through lenses colored by holiness allows us to see a completely different reality.

For a more in-depth analysis see:


Echoes of Eden