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 כִּי תֵצֵא לַמִּלְחָמָה עַל אֹיְבֶךָ
ki tetze lamilhama al oyvecha
when you engage your enemies in battle
 
(It might seem as if this is a comment on next week's parashah, Ki Tetze, but no, chapter 20 of Shoftim (Deut. 16:18-21:9) starts off with the identical five word phrase. While next week's reading addresses post-battle sexual passion, this week's formula deals with its source, i.e., pre-battle fears...)  
 
 וְרָאִיתָ סוּס וָרֶכֶב עַם רַב מִמְּךָ לֹא תִירָא מֵהֶם כִּי יְהֹוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ עִמָּךְ הַמַּעַלְךָ מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם
v'raita sus varechev am rav mim'cha al tira meyhem ki hashem elohecha imach hama'alcha me'eretz mitzrayim
and you see horses and chariots, a multitude that outnumbers you, do not fear them, for God is with you, the One who took you out of Egypt (Deut. 20:1)
 
The sight of massed forces is frightful; but we have the God of the Exodus with us. What exactly does that mean? One answer, the p'shat [the originally intended one], in my mind, is that the Exodus story comes to show us God's inclination to teach and rule via terror (there are other answers as well, which we'll explore later on). This isn't the only reference to instrumentalized fear in the parashah; we also find fear utilized as a motivating force in the administration of justice, a central theme of the parashah: 
 
 וְכָל הָעָם יִשְׁמְעוּ וְיִרָאוּ וְלֹא יְזִידוּן עוֹד
v'chol ha'am yishm'u v'yira'u v'lo y'zidun od
the people when they hear [this] will be intimidated and will not act presumptuously (whatever that means...) any more (Deut. 17:13)
 
 וְהַנִּשְׁאָרִים יִשְׁמְעוּ וְיִרָאוּ וְלֹא יֹסִפוּ לַעֲשׂוֹת עוֹד כַּדָּבָר הָרָע הַזֶּה בְּקִרְבֶּךָ
v'hanish'arim yishm'u v'yira'u v'lo yosifu la'asot od kadavar hara hazeh b'kirb'cha
those remaining, hearing [this] will be intimidated and will not persist in doing anything like this bad thing among you (Deut 19:20)
 
which echoes almost identically Deut. 13:12, 
 וְכָל יִשְׂרָאֵל יִשְׁמְעוּ וְיִרָאוּן וְלֹא יוֹסִפוּ לַעֲשׂוֹת כַּדָּבָר הָרָע הַזֶּה בְּקִרְבֶּךָ
v'chol yisrael yishm'u v'yira'un...
 
It is not faith or trust in God that will keep people from sinning, rather fear of the punishment, and to be exact in the cases of chapters 13 and 17, the fear of the violence of the stoning to death.  Fear figures in the early chapters of Deuteronomy as well:
 
 הַיּוֹם הַזֶּה אָחֵל תֵּת פַּחְדְּךָ וְיִרְאָתְךָ עַל פְּנֵי הָעַמִּים 
hayom hazeh ahel tet pahd'cha v'yr'at'cha al pney ha'amim 
This day I will begin to put your fear upon the nations (Deut 2:25)
 
The p'shat of פחדך pahd'cha here is "the fear of you," but rendering it as "your fear" helps to locate the source of the fear Israel's enemies are meant to have in Israel itself: yes, Israel is afraid, we are all afraid, and we imagine the solution to our fear is to export it; but it doesn't work: the more we make them afraid, the more we will have reason to fear them (cf., the arms race). It is this consciousness, this awareness of the inadequacy of the desire to scare the enemy that forces us to look for a different understanding of the memory of the Exodus: we were slaves, and we learned about freedom, and in its pursuit, we learned about other kinds of slavery. The fear of God, יראת השם, yir'at hashem does not have to imply the belief in a violent, terrorizing God, but rather a process of faith in which God brings us to a place where we find ourselves living alongside fears and not enslaved by them.
 
Many years ago, I learned from Levi Kelman to make do with, even relish, one meaningful phrase (or even a single resonant word!) in a psalm (this wasn't entirely his discovery; the rabbis of old were sort of doing this when they made midrash by taking words and phrases out of context...). As a card-carrying member of the Israeli secular left, there's not much chance that Adam Keller, the indefatiguable Israeli peace activist, was aware of, let alone inspired by, a part of the first verse of chapter 20 when he used a month of milu'im (reserve army duty) back in the '80's to write anti-war slogans on 143 tanks (for which he spent considerable time in the brig). But the memory of that exploit surfaced when I read it this week: "when you see modern chariots and vehicles of war, and you are in a small minority, don't be afraid, because the God of the Exodus is with you." The same God who allows for the people who are newly betrothed or who just built a new house or planted a new vineyard to be exempted from fighting is also the God that will eventually get through to the priests and officers of this fighting force that there are peaceful alternatives to (this) war.    
 
Shabbat shalom,
 
Jeremy
 
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I've made reference more than once on this blog to commentaries on the weekly Torah reading that are found at  www.MyJewishLearning.com. I'm pasting in the following posting for "your reading pleasure," but also to scratch your head, as I did, and wonder whether the writer purposely stepped back from the most obvious application of her Torah, or did she include it in her draft, only to yield to an editor's cautionary wisdom (Persecution and the Art of Writing lives!)

Land Distribution--Then and Now

As Jews, we must express our religious imperative to ensure equal access to land.

By Sarah Margles

This commentary is provided by special arrangement with American Jewish World Service. To learn more, visit www.ajws.org.

"Among these shall the land be apportioned as shares, according to the listed names: with larger groups increase the share, with smaller groups reduce the share. Each is to be assigned its share according to its enrollment" (Numbers 26:53-54).

The Israelites had the incredible luxury of being told how to build a just society before settling in a new place. The rationality and fairness of land distribution in Parashat Pinhas is remarkable and very different from the norms of land ownership currently present around the globe.

Agrarian Communities

In rural areas, particularly in developing countries, land is the source of income, sustenance, and social (and often legal) status. Approximately 45% of the world's population (~2.7 billion people) earns its living through agriculture. More than 500 million of these people are without secure access to land.

As workers on other people's land, many farming communities cannot depend on continued access to the land they currently farm. In places of violence and civil unrest, displaced people are often denied the right to return to the land they fled. In former communist countries, public lands have become places of dispute as families and communities strive for some access to the small amount of land up for grabs. Many countries struggling with the legacy of colonialism deal with the chaos of unstable and corrupt governments that have followed independence.

The common theme that runs through all these cases is a lack of any coherent underlying commitment to address the agricultural needs of all members of the national community. This global challenge highlights the relevance of the short passage above from this week's parashah.

The underlying assumption of the text is that every family, clan, and tribe has the right to own land. Ancient Israelites, like modern communities, needed a stable place to live, eat, and earn a living. The inclusion of this text in the Torah underscores the point that land ownership is essential to the successful survival of the people.

Today, the survival of the half billion agriculturalists without ownership rights to their land continues to be in question. Unequal land distribution furthers cycles of poverty and hunger that plague communities all over the world. With an elite few owning the vast majority of land in developing countries, the disparity between rich and poor continues to increase.

The land distribution methods outlined in this section of the Torah represent a radical departure from what we see today. The fact that land is apportioned based on population size underscores the fundamental equality of every person. Every tribe began its new life on a proportionally equal footing, with the tools it needed to build a successful community. The clear starting place for every Israelite was with ownership of land--the most important resource and the most valuable gift that one generation could pass along to the next.

Zelophehad's Daughters

In this context, the story of the daughters of Zelophehad, which concludes Parashat Pinhas, furthers the point. As unmarried women whose father died and left no sons, the daughters of Zelophehad were not originally allotted any land--the initial formulation of land inheritance stipulated that land holdings only pass from father to son. The daughters of Zelophehad brought their grievance to Moses who, with God's sanction, remedied the situation, establishing a precedent that title to land can pass from parents to children, including daughters.

The original land allotment structure would have resulted in a manifest injustice, leaving innocent women homeless. With this injustice brought to the attention of people in power, the entire system shifted to protect those whom it had initially neglected. The story of the daughters of Zelophehad comes to remind us that, once we recognize the consequences of structural and systemic injustice, once our consciences are pricked, we must change those structures and systems in order to meet the needs of those who occupy the periphery of any society.

The Israelites had a blank slate upon which to build a new society. They were lucky. Today, we face ingrained systems of wealth disparity. Because of this challenge, it is even more incumbent upon us to engage deeply in the necessary work of land reform. There are many countries that have begun to take brave steps toward land redistribution. As Jews, we must do our best to support these movements and urge our government to behave in ways that express our religious ethical imperative to ensure equal access to land.

As Shabbat brings into balance the uneven scales of our business and spiritual lives, let us help those who have fallen off the scales entirely to find a foothold and a place to call home.


If you don't know what I -- this is Jeremy again -- was aiming at when I mentioned having to scratch my head up above, here are a few hints:

1. While I can appreciate the tidiness that comes with having "a blank slate upon which to build a new society," a staggering moral price would have been involved then, as it is now, in assuring that it would be a land without people for a people without a land (a phrase coined by the 19th century Christian Zionists Alexander Keith and Lord Shaftesbury and happily assimilated into the mainstream Zionist jargon in 1901 by Israel Zangwill). "They were lucky" -- the bliss of innocence!

2. If I'm still being too subtle, I'll elaborate: the writer learns from our Torah reading that "once our consciences are pricked, we must change those structures and systems in order to meet the needs of those who occupy the periphery of any society...we must do our best to support these movements and urge our government to behave in ways that express our religious ethical imperative to ensure equal access to land;" the writer understands this to be a sweeping commandment, to be applied to “any society”, but then manages to avoid mentioning the one case where this rectification is entirely up to the Jewish state, and the Jewish Diaspora which supports it.   It is clearly all conditional on whether or not “our consciences are pricked” -- and the best minds and sharpest tongues/pens (remember Abba Eban?) among us have made toughening our skin and obscuring our vision their life's work.
3. Still not clear? There's no Israeli town that has the density of a Palestinian refugee camp, where there's no room to plant a tree (if you're an Israeli for whom visiting refugee camps is illegal because they are in area A, just go to Shu'afat Camp which Israel annexed in 1967, within t'hum shabbat -- easy walking distance -- of the French Hill Ramot Zion Synagogue). Did you say something about “each is to be assigned its share according to its enrollment”?
4. The good news is that every year, dozens of American Jews who were raised with selective consciences and come to Israel to have that tunnel vision reinforced by Birthright programs, etc., end up working in Palestinian and Israeli human rights organizations. ובא לציון גואל Uva l'tziyon goel -- thus may redemption come to Zion.
Shabbat shalom,
Jeremy
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1. Point

 
This week's long, double Torah reading (Numbers 19:1-25:9) starts with death and ends with death; even worse, the ritual laws of corpses with which chapter 19 echoes the violent deaths, through acts of force majeur, of chapter 16, and next week's reading bringing the command for yet another round of violence (25:16-18) that will be recounted (31:1-9) in the week following provide a four-week-long framework of violence. And most of this story will be retold and the message reinforced throughout the summer Torah readings from the book of Deuteronomy. There is a a symmetry of symbols: Moses is commanded to take up his rod (20:8), and in the closing verses of the double reading, Phinehas impales the offending couple with a spear (25:7-8).

 
The scenario that will happen if Israel violates the prohibition against living in peace with the indigenous nations and against allowing them to maintain their rirtuals given in Exodus 34:12-16 (they will invite you to partake of offerings to other gods, that it will lead to worshipping them and then to YHWH's vengeful punishment) thus takes place already in the desert before the entry into the Promised Land. What was is what will be, and there is nothing new under the sun, as Ecclesiastes said; the sea is the same sea, and the Arabs are the same Arabs, said Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Shamir, to ensure the failure of the Madrid Peace Talks in 1991.  

 
2. Counterpoint

 
This week's Haftarah (reading from the Prophets), Micah 5:6-6:8, is famous for prefering morality to ritual:

 
6 6 With what shall I approach the Lord
Do homage to God on high?
Shall I approach Him with burnt offerings
With calves a year old?
7 Would the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams
With myriads of streams of oil?
Shall I give my first-born for my transgressions
The fruit of my body for my sins?
8 He has told you, O man, what is good,
And what the Lord requires of you:
"Only to do justice
And to love goodness
And to walk humbly with your God."

 
but what I find even more soothing, "like cold water on a parched throat (Proverbs 25:25)", is the twice-repeated vision of integration with the nations: "The remnant of Jacob shall be in the midst of many peoples (5:6,7)," a direct refutation of Balaam's famous עם לבדד ישכון am l'vadad yishkon, "a nation that lives alone (Numbers 23:9)"

 
The previous chapter in Micah is also the source of the famous pacifist passage most commonly quoted from Isaiah (nation shall not lift up sword against nation, etc.) so it is not really surprising to find a strong anti-militaristic statement in our Haftarah as well:

 
"...I will wreck your chariots...and demolish your fortresses" (5:9-10)

 
3. An inner-biblical Resolution

I got a kick out of Numbers 20:14, when Moses starts out his message to Edom with, "Thus says your brother Israel..." Well, it didn't work -- Edom was not interested in allowing Israel free passage through its land -- but it's good to see some optimism here, even if it comes out of self-interest and not consideration, let alone altruism. If the text imagines brotherly between the descendants of Jacob and Esau ( = Edom) despite the rocky beginning they had in Genesis 25-33, I guess there's hope for all of us.

 
Shabbat shalom,

 
Jeremy

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In Moscow for a conference during the last days of the Cold War, I managed to attend Shabat services at the nearest synagogue, and told a curious Russian Jew who had never been out of Russia but was eager to emigrate to Israel that if he came back to my hotel, he could meet Shulamit Aloni, a celebrated human rights activist and, at the time, an Israeli cabinet minister. His response: "Her problem is, she doesn't know the Arabs." When I told her of his uninformed impertinence, she said, "if he makes aliyah, he'll fit right in." (I might add that after in living Israel for the rest of his life and never meeting an Arab, he'll still be convinced that he knows better) 

 
In tomorrow's Toah reading (Sh'lah, Numbers 13-15), 12 spies set out to reconnoiter the Promised Land, and come back with a mixed report: the land is lush and fertile, but its inhabitants are fierce; bottom line, all but Kalev, who is later joined by Yehoshua, believe the enemy cannot be vanquished. The Israelites, discouraged, begin to complain and consider returning to Egypt. God threatens to get rid of them, and Moses manages to bring God to stick with them, but God will keep them in the desert for 40 years till this entire generation dies off, only bringing the next generation into the Land. The desert narrative is suspended during chapter 15, which provides seemingly unconnected ritual commandments; the Haftarah, from Joshua 2, retells a similar spying expedition, and this time, the result is an endorsement of the planned invasion.

 
The commandment to attach fringes on the outer clothing, tzitzit (Numbers 15:37-41) is the pivotal passage here: the fringes function paradoxically: seeing them will make the Israelites remember the commandments and perform them, and keep them from straying after their desires (to go back to Egypt) and what the eyes have seen (a hostile land), because the commandments come from YHWH, who took them out of Egypt to be their God. The Haftarah features Rahab, the righteous prostitute, to indicate that some straying from the norm can be useful, thus adding an ironic if not subversively antinomian rabbinic flourish to tomorrow's service.

 
Diaspora Jews will resonate with the assignment the spies received: what kind of land will they find if/when they come, and how fierce are its inhabitants? The animosity that confronts the immigrant is not restricted to hostilities between Jews and Arabs; there's plenty of aggession to go around, but somehow, luckily or not, many visitors don't pick up on it. It's in the eye of the beholder, and even more so, in the itinerary that a tour follows;  people quickly establish comfort zones that mark the boundaries of the familiar, beyond which spin and stereotypes tend to prevail. And what binds up the package is faith: the 10 discouraging spies forgot to factor divine providence into their report. 

 
What could count for divine providence in the Middle East for us today? Is it in the acquisition of the latest weaponry that does not distinguish between combatant and civilian? Could it be in discriminatory policies that impverish the indigenous population with the hope of forcing it to emigrate, but actually only breed a hard line and violent resistance? Christian Zionists? I'd rather see divine providence as that which has us overcoming our fear and seeking our partners, sharing the land and harvesting the peace.

 
The three closest pizza venders to my flat here in Berlin are all Lebanese, which inevitably means that their parents were Palestinian refugees from '48, and their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren have never seen it -- the modern equivalents of Moses and his generation. I imagine relatives who remained and satellite television and internet deliver their reports, and I wonder what keeps them going. My heart pounds louder when I greet them in beginner's Arabic, but my inner dialogue is in mamma loshen, what I drank with my mother's milk: vih'yitem k'doshim leyloheychem; be holy, be faithful, to your God (Numbers 15:40). 

 
Shabbat shalom,

 
Jeremy

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(לה) וַיְהִי בִּנְסֹעַ הָאָרֹן וַיֹּאמֶר משֶׁה קוּמָה יְהֹוָה וְיָפֻצוּ אֹיְבֶיךָ וְיָנֻסוּ מְשַׂנְאֶיךָ מִפָּנֶיךָ:
(לו) וּבְנֻחֹה יֹאמַר שׁוּבָה יְהֹוָה רִבֲבוֹת אַלְפֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל:

 
vay'hi binso'a ha'aron vayomer moshe: kuma hashem v'yafutzu oy'vecha v'yanusu m'san'echa mipanecha
uv'nuho yomar: shuvah hashem riv'vot alfey yisrael

 
When the ark was to set out, Moses would say, 
"Rise, O Lord, may your enemies be scattered and may your foes flee before You"
And when it was put down, he would say,
"Rest, O Lord of Israel's myriads of thousands"

 
A nun-friend of mine was rather surprised when I told her I was planning to write about Numbers 10:35-36: "Enemies scattering?" she wrote, and I'm not sure whether it was the subject of enmity or the violence (or fear of it) required to scatter them that upset her, or maybe she assumed that I was simply adding a few verses to the longish list of passages I wish would disappear, and she's a traditionalist...well, I'm not going to censor it, but I'm also not willing to turn this prayer in a central pillar of faith,sefer hashuv bifney atzmo (Babylonian Talmud, Shabbat 116a; actually, the inverted letters -- nunim m'nuzarot -- that bracket these two verses do suggest an ancient form of anti-virus quarantine!).

 
Etz Hayim (p. 826) starts off trying to shift the physical danger into the past: "During our years of wandering, exile and persecution, when we were (my emphasis) vulnerable to those who sought to do us harm, our prayer was (again, my emphasis), 'Advance [sic], O Lord! May your enemies be scattered!'" However, our vigilance has only moved to the spiritual: "During tranquil times, when the danger is not persecution but assimilation, our prayer is a homiletic interpretation of verse 36: 'O Lord, return the thousands of Israel who have strayed'" (notice how the editors reduce the verse's astronomical order of magnitude -- 10 to the 7th power -- to an almost trivial amount). But finally, Etz Hayim keeps the midrash from Sifrei (and popularized by Rashi) current when it asks, and answers: "Does God have enemies? Anyone who hates the Jewish people because we strive to do the will of God is an enemy of God" (nota bene: "because we strive to do the will of God" is -- perhaps unfortunately-- an editorial novum).

 
So, is this yet another utterance of the default sentiment in all religions: "God is on our side"?  Nehama Leibovitz provides some relief by bringing the following snippet (the original is oh, so wordy...) from Samson Rafael Hirsch's Torah commentary (Frankfurt, 19th century): 
"Moses knew that enemies would arise to the Torah from the word go, since justice and loving the Other are completely contrary to the decrees of tyrants and their aggression..." and not once in over a page and a half of commentary does he imply that we and the Torah are one, or that its enemies are our enemies or visa versa.

 
We are so prone to take advantage of the presence of Jewish worshippers and spoonfeed a pro-active political agenda that originates in certain corridors of power that we hardly notice the jingoistic force of singing these verses during the Torah service (last week I heard a prayer sung to the melody of Hatikva...); does our demeanor resonate "tranquil times" and do our texts reflect the nuances of our tradition, which certainly contains fantasies of divine violence against "them", but an authentic voice such as Hirsch as well? We move right on from Kuma Hashem (verse 35) to Ki mitziyon (Isaiah 2: 3b); I can't recall where I experienced it, but I was thrilled when I discovered somewhere out there they keep going till the end of the next verse as well: "Nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore".

 
A final note of subversion: I was suddenly struck (or maybe what my father wrote, "This song is only a prayer (the imperative "Arise", "Rest" are not written in the usual form, "kum," "shuv", but are lengthened to "kumah," "shuvah" and thus may be expressing a wish," Numbers, JPS, p. 375) by the similarity of this language to the words Elijah puts into the mouths of the Ba'al worshippers:

 
"It was already noon, and Elijah made fun of them, saying, "Cry out in a loud voice, he's a god, maybe he's busy, maybe he's on a journey,  or maybe he's sleeping and must be wakened!" (I Kings 18:27)

 
It's almost as if God is a reluctant warrior whom Moses has to beseech to go out to battle (actually, Moses was wont to say this whenever the ark arose, not only in battle, which suggests a default setting of belligerence...hmmmm); and once set in motion, there's inertia to overcome, to get God back to non-violence...(kevan shenitan rashut l'hash'hit --once the slaughter begins, look out! -- the danger that Israel found itself in when the Angel of Death was killing the Egyptian first-born -- 
ואתם לא תצאו איש מפתח ביתו עד בקר כיון שניתן רשות למשחית אינו מבחין בין צדיקים לרשעים ולא עוד אלא שמתחיל מן הצדיקים תחלה שנאמר והכרתי ממך צדיק ורשע)

 
Life in the desert, according to this passage, was not a beach (that's the clean version), and we should choose our prayers carefully. 

 
Shabbat shalom,

 
Jeremy

 

 

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Greetings to my faithful readers; I hope you all managed to "get a life" during the last four weeks of this column's absence... I must confess that I needed the break, and I'm not sure that I'm up to resuming my weekly struggle with the Parashah/haftarah, but two center-stage events, macro and micro, impel me to write: both happenings, the latest chapter in Obama's presidency, as well as Tony's visit to Minerva House relate directly to the Middle East conflict, and resonate within Parashat Naso (and, for Israeli readers, the haftarah of B'ha'alot'cha).

 
אל נא תאמר הנה דרכי האחרונה

את אור היום הסתירו שמי העננה

זה יום נכספנו לו עוד יעל ויבוא

ומצעדנו עוד ירעים: "אנחנו פה!" 
Al na tomar hiney darki ha'aharona
et or hayom histiru sh'mey ha'ananah
Zeh yom nechsafnu lo, od ya'al v'yavo
u'mitz'adenu od yar'im anahnu po! 

 
Don't say this is a dead end --
the light of day is only hidden by a cloudy sky
It's a long awaited day, bring it on --
Our parade will yet thunder: we are here! (from the Jewish Partisan's Hymn, Glick/Shlonsky)

 
 
1. The long awaited day -- in the Minerva/Shiber house

 
 וְהֵשִׁיב אֶת אֲשָׁמוֹ בְּרֹאשׁוֹ וַחֲמִישִׁתוֹ יֹסֵף עָלָיו וְנָתַן לַאֲשֶׁר אָשַׁם לוֹ
v'heshiv et ashamo b'rosho vahamishito yosef alav v'natan la'asher asham lo 
" ...He shall make restitution in the principal amount and add one-fifth to it, giving it to him whom he has wronged." -- Numbers 5:7

 
"Tony's father was around the age of 11 when Zionist soldiers came to the doorstep and informed them that they had 48 hours to vacate the home in the West Jerusalem neighborhood of Talbieh...I looked around and wondered to myself, what happened to the furniture and household items, where did all the clothing go, how much has been removed and redone, what about kitchen supplies and food items, where did the ghosts of the home settle?" (http://onefire.wordpress.com/2009/05/29/finding-tonys-house-in-jerusalem/ )

 
We had heard that George Shiber built two houses, and believed he'd rented this one out and lived in another, larger house that he'd built around the corner; while that version took a bit of the heat off of us, it didn't significantly diminish Tony's rights to the house. But he wasn't here to reclaim his property (it isn't always easy for an American citizen with an Arabic name to enter Israel;  Tony told us he felt lucky he'd made it in); he had basically come to find his roots. His traveling companion wrote about us (op. cit.), "They both seem to be very calm at our arrival, almost as if the home has been telling them that one day the Shibers would come back in search of their home, and now this 'one day' has arrived," but the truth is that I'm very happy and excited to meet Tony and to have brought him into the house;  

 
 וְאִם אֵין לָאִישׁ גֹּאֵל לְהָשִׁיב הָאָשָׁם אֵלָיו הָאָשָׁם הַמּוּשָׁב לה' לכהן
v'im ein lai'sh go'el l'hashiv ha'asham elav, ha'asham hamushav l'hashem lakohen
If the man has no kinsman to whom restitution can be made, the amount repaid shall go to the Lord for the priest (Numbers 5:8) 

 
We had heard that George's children had gone to Beirut and Kuwait, from which it is not that easy to enter Israel, and I figured we'd never have a living connection with that family.Who would be the priest who would receive restitution instead of George Shiber's exiled children? Lucky for us, Tony's father John had made it to the United States; If they are interested, I hope his grandchildren will have the same access to their past as my own; will our leaders do the honorable but inconvenient thing, or will they continue to play games, play war games, play with our lives and the lives of our loved ones? (hint: God willing, my grandson will turn 18 in 17.8 years...)

 
2. The long-awaited day that arrived in Cairo, in Dar-al-Islam (the rest of the Moslem world) and in Dar al-Harb (the rest of the world that is not yet Moslem -- just kidding, folks)

 
Both Naso (Numbers 4:21-7:89) and B'ha'alot'cha (Numbers 8:1-12:16) provide ready-made springboards for peaceful preaching; the priestly blessing (Numbers 6: 22-26), which inspired a sublime series of midrashim that all begin with Gadol Hashalom ("Peace is the Greatest"), and B'ha'alot'cha's haftarah, with "Not by power and not by might rather by my spirit," (Zecharia 4:6) will hopefully resonate in homilies throughout the Jewish world tomorrow. However, even the most powerful sermon will not be able to penetrate the insularity of fear, victimhood and privilege that allows the Jewish establishment to be dismissive of every peace initiative and hostile to the idea of justice. For them, peace means "they should stop bothering us", i.e., what we have, we can keep; sooner or later they'll settle for crumbs. Bush seemed to think that was fine, and apparently, hopefully, Obama does not. Is he serious enough to be willing to pay the price of meaning what he says?  Do supporters of Israel really think there can be any kind of long-lasting stability, let alone peace, without ending Israel's systemic discrimination againist and marginalization of the Palestinian people?

 
You guessed right if you thought Obama's words in Cairo yesterday gave me hope; wouldn't it be wonderful if his denounciation of violence brought about a cessation of attacks on Israel and Jews worldwide? What was significant, in my mind, in his approach yesterday, was what appeared to be his giving Jewish and Palestinian nationalism equal weight, which basically means that not all means can be used to achieve national ends. I hope Jewish leadership internalizes this message, because I have begun to despair of the worship of the state, i. e., the religion of Israel. The Land and the State can be no more than instruments in the worship of God; the People is not essential but is rather a framework of a covenanted community. But I'm slipping into a sermon or a seminar here, and that's not where it's going to happen. For that -- surprise, surprise! -- we'll go back to the text:

 
Numbers chapter 5 begins with two ostensibly unrelated topics: ostracism of the leper (verses 1-4) and מעל, ma'al, the restitution of misappropriated property (verses 5-8). We've talked about the second pericope above, in the story of Tony's house; now I feel I can (or rather, I must) use the homiletic principle of סמיכות פרשיות smichut parshiot (the adjacency of passages) to derive a truth and deliver a message: what we -- Israel, with the connivance of the western world -- have been doing to the Palestinians has been a ma'al, a misappropriation of sancta, and this is becoming evident worldwide, where Judaism is increasingly seen as hideous because it is inextricably linked with Zionism, itself resembling more and more a form of moral leprosy. Oh, but we made the desert bloom while defending our land from infiltrators, we said. Actually, they were refugees who just wanted to come back to their homes and families (ושבתם איש אל אחוזתו ואיש אל משפחתו תשובו v'shavtem ish el ahuzato v'ish el mishtahto tashuvu, Lev. 25:10), and most of the world is learning that now. As for us, the innocent and gullible are in denial and are still spun by propagandists, while the more brazen say, "So what?" (the former group could have their eyes opened, as their hearts have not been hardened; the latter will probably only learn the hard way). Which tendency do you think got Netanyanu and Lieberman (and maybe Barak) elected?
 
May God who healed Miriam and Na'aman of their leprosy heal us of ours. And may redemption come to Zion.

 
Shabbat shalom,

Jeremy
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Having spent a good bit of time adjacent to recent festivals of freedom (Passover and May Day) in Shaarey Tzedek hospital's orthopedic and rehab wards with one of my favorite octogenarians, and starting my first-ever serious stint of caregiving at his home, I am happy to report that there can be life "Aharey Mot" and I keep witnessing many living examples of holiness in action. Not to be able to pick up convalescent spirits with home-baked goods in that hospital was, in my book, an unnecessary humra, but overwise, one often experiences there a connectedness between the spiritual axis, beyn adam lamakom and the social one, beyn adam lahavero -- a realization which provides us with what might be a fitting introduction to the message I contributed to RHR's weekly Parashat Hashavua mailing.

shabbat shalom,


Jeremy


---------------------------------------------------------


V'ahavta l're'acha kamocha – Love your neighbor as yourself (Lev. 19:18)”: a commandment not easily applied in Human Rights work, since generally readers of this message don't have Palestinian neighbors or live among foreign workers, etc. And then there's the issue of loving someone with whom one is not in some kind of committed relationship. Hillel the Elder rephrased this commandment in the following way: “That which is hateful to you, do not do to your friend”. No matter how it is formulated, does this commandment take into account the residue of resentment, fear and hatred accumulated in a long and violent struggle?

 

An answer is found in the Torah commentary of the medieval exegete Yosef Bechor Shor, who point out that full statement in Leviticus is actually “Love your neighbor as yourself, I am the Lord.” “It is as if God is saying”, Bechor Shor adds, “ 'Let your love for Me vanquish your hatred for him, until peace obtains between the two of you' (this is the meaning of the verse in Proverbs (3:17) 'Its ways are ways of pleasantness, and all its paths lead to peace'). 'I am the Lord' – loving Me ought to wipe out hatred.”

 

This is the Torah on one foot: love is everything, and religion without love is godless.

 

 את כל התורה הרלוונטית לעיסוק בזכויות האדם אפשר לתמצת בשלש המילים הידועות מתוך פרשת השבוע (אחרי-מות/קדושים): "ואהבת לרעך כמוך".ואכן כבר לפני אלפיים שנה סיכם הלל הזקן את התורה כולה בניסוח השלילי של אותו כללדעלך סני לחברך לא תעביד (מה ששנוא עליךלחברך אל תעשה).

 

אך ברור שכלל לא פשוט ליישם את ציווי הזההאם אפשר לדרוש שנאהב אדם זרבן לשיכבה סוציו-אקונומית אחרתבן עם אחרבמיוחד כשמדובר בעם שנמצא במאבק אלים איתנובהקשר זהכדאי שנזכור את מה שקודם בפסוק ל"ואהבת לרעך כמוך" – איסור על נקימה ונטירהשהן תגובות מוכרות ואפילו מובנות ממצבים של מאבק.

 

בפירושו מימי הביניים על התורה התייחס רבי יוסף בכור שור לאותה תהייהכיצד אפשר לדרוש את התגברות  הזאת על שינאה שנובעת מסבלפחד והשפלה שגרמו מעשיהם של אויביםהוא מצביע על הנוסח המלא של סוף הפסוק, “ואהבת לרעך כמוךאני ה'”. וכך משיב הפרשן: "אומר לך הקודש ברוך הוא, 'תנצח האהבה שיש לך עמי את השנאה שיש לך עמוומתוך כך יבוא שלום ביניכם'; וזהו 'דרכיה דרכי נועם וכל נתיבותיה שלום': אני ה', וראויה אהבתי לשכח את השנאה".   




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It's a relief that on Yom Hashoah (Israeli Holocaust Day) 2009, Germany is caring about Jews; it would look pretty bad if it weren't. But there's something cheap, something wrong, and even something pathetic in the German government's boycott of the UN conference on racism today.

I'll start out by admitting that I don't really understand what brought the German nation to perpetrate the Holocaust; I'm not sure anyone does. There were probably more Germans who objected to Hitler's ideology than believed in it, but evidently there were not enough people who had the courage to stand up to the Nazis, and too many people who, thinking they might benefit from it, went along with it. Today, it's just the same in reverse: I don't believe that most of Germany really agrees with the kneejerk support of the Israeli government shown by the German establishment, but not many have the courage to speak justice to power, and too many people take the easy way out -- it's easier for their consciences, and who needs the risk of being branded an anti-Semite...

Blanket German support for Zionism is wrong as well as foolish; it's not good for Germany or for the Jews in the long run, and it's an insult to the Judaism that flourished in Germany for many hundreds of years before the Holocaust. It's also a sign that the lessons of the Holocaust have not really been learned except in the most vulgar way: Never Again should this happen to the Jews -- is that all we've learned? There were less than a million Jews in Germany before the war, and they were mostly very well integrated into German society; there are many millions of Moslems in Germany today, and for many decades they've mostly been living in ghettos far more distinct and separate than those Jews inhabited. There's something very sick in the German mentality that does not allow their absorption into the mainstream of society, and it might be closely connected with what "othered" the Jews then, and basically still "others" them today.

By celebrating the state of Israel as a Jewish state -- the raison d'etre of modern Germany, as Bundeskanzlerin Merkel declared in the Knesset last year, a year after the war crimes of "the Jewish state" in Lebanon and a year before its war crimes in Gaza -- Germans can feel some relief that its final solution for the Jewish people was not fully carried out. But they are fooling themselves if they believe that the suffering inflicted on the Jewish people ended with them. The ferocity of Israel's oppression of the Palestinians is hard to imagine without the scars the Holocaust seared into the survivors and their ancestors; if it is not surprising that Germans would feel a perverse solidarity with this evil, it is still a shame that they do not show more responsibility, if not compassion, for the secondary suffering that they have caused. 

The equanimity of Germany in the face of the ongoing suffering Israel has caused the Palestinian people for over 60 years is both a sign of Germany's cowardice as well as its opportunism, a small price to pay to belong to the West, whose emnity towards the Third World is nothing new, except that this time around it's not only Christianity against Muslims, but a Judeo-Christian coalition. This face-off cannot lead to a better result than Hitler's grand plan; it is a neo-conservative scenario that will make the bloodbath of Iraq pale in comparison, and will leave not only all of the Middle East in ruins, but Europe, with its 50+ million Muslims, as well. Is supporting Israeli expansionism worth this price?

The lead story on Kulturradio today was that the Zentralrat des Judens in Deutschland congratulates the German government for boycotting the UN conference in Geneva, and protests that the rest of EU did not do the same; that the Zentralrat takes its marching orders from the Israeli Foreign Ministry is nothing new. But it would be helpful if Germans were told that beyond the official PR, most Israelis are well aware that Israel is indeed a racist state; Israelis know it, but are too lazy to do anything about it. Why should they, if they can get away with it, and noone on the outside can be bothered? It was much the same during the 30's in Germany, no?

 
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The interface between tomorrow's Torah reading (Tazria-M'tzora, Leviticus 12-15) and the regular reading from the Prophets (haftarah, II Kings 7: 3-20 -- but Isaiah 66 is read instead because of Rosh Hodesh) is quite interesting: Leviticus 13-14 deals extensively with the priest's role in diagnosing and purifying the "leper" (the popular but innaccurate translation for m'tzora), and the overwhelming sense here is of the transient nature of this affliction; only in an aside (Lev. 13:45-46) is the ostracism of lepers and their indeterminate banishment outside the camp mentioned. In the haftarah, the entire story of the salvation of Israel hinges on the exclusion of the lepers, and everything is now reversed: distanced from the Israelite city, they "defect" to the Aramean camp, which has been abandoned (a reverse ostracism -- the only people in this camp are now the lepers) but fully stocked with food and horses (which were in such low supply in the Israelite city -- the horrors of the famine are detailed in the previous chapter, perhaps too shocking to be read in the synagogue) as well as with clothes (to replace the rent clothes of the lepers) and valuables (a sign of grace). 

 
Sharing the good news and wealth with the Israelites would not easy for them -- as opposed to the Aramean camp, into which they enter effortlessly, the lepers cannot enter the city, and must call out from the city gates, and in any event are not believed by the king (to whom their report registers more as beguilement, or even betrayal and collusion with the enemy -- they have eated and drank, while the rest of the Israelites are still famished); without a reconnaisance mission suggested by one of the king's courtiers (which adds to the suspence but also prolongs the famine and suffering), all would be lost. When the report of the lepers is verified, the people of the city plunder the Aramean camp, and the price of food at the city gates plummets, as "the man of God" had prophesied; the king's aide, who scoffed at that prophecy is trampled to death by the rush of the people at the city gates. The city, far from representing civil society, is the scene of barbarism, not fit for the habitation of caring lepers.
 
Leprosy (or whatever tzara'at is) is a plague, not only a disease, meaning, it is a divine punishment for moral sin that (pardon the expression) "men of God" -- Elisha, as well as Moses -- can inflict and cure as well (Elisha, in II Kings chapter 5; Moses, on himself, Ex. 4:6-7, and on Miriam, Numbers 12:11; Moses also inflicts the 6th plague, sh'hin, boils, with which Job was also afflicted, might be a variant of tzara'at). When I first read throught the haftarah, I wondered why the heroism of the four lepers does not inspire Elisha to cure them as he did Na'aman. The Talmud's answer (Sanhedrin 107b; Fishbane points to Ginzberg's note on the matter, Legends of the Jews, vol. 4, 244-45) is that these anonymous heroes are actually Gehazi and his sons, whom Elisha had cursed eternally with Na'aman's leprosy after Gehazi messes up at the end of that story (5:20-26). But the p'shat, the simple truth of the matter, is that, like in the Exodus narrative, the Elisha stories are more about establishing the power (and abuse of it) of God and/or His prophet than they are about justice and morality. Gehazi, the king's aide and the 42 youths who laughed at his pate (2:23-24) deserve the punishments they suffer at Elisha's hand as much as the first born of the captive in the pit and the animals in Egypt did -- i.e., not at all, and it's all politics: to establish, through fear and not love, the authority of God and His representative.

 
Leprosy has not lost its political currency in our times: many celebrated the establishment of the state of Israel for bringing the leper Jewish people back into history, meaning, full membership in the family of nations and an end to the ostracism and disgrace that exile and persecution had brought us. But statehood and power come not so much with pride as with responsibility, and many of us find ourselves deeply disappointed by the image of Judaism that "the Jewish state" projects. Whatever low expectations we might have had regarding this week's UN conference on Racism in Geneva, boycotting it did not enhance our self-definition as rahmanim b'nai rahmanim (the merciful descendants of merciful ancestors). If, in the words of the Psalm One, Ahmadinejad's grandstanding made it into a moshav letzim (a sitting of fools), joining with the Coalition of the Willing who captured and traded slaves for centuries and, continuing to exploit the world's poor, remain unrepentant and deaf was standing b'derech hata'im (on a sinful path)  and walking out b'atzat r'sha'im (with evil counsel). 

Is this what our heritage boils down to?

Shabbat shalom,

 
Jeremy   

 
 

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Sally: Amanda mentioned you had a dark side.
Harry: That's what drew her to me.
Sally: Your dark side.
Harry: Sure. Why, don't you have a dark side? No, you're probably one of those cheerful people who dot their "i"s with little hearts.
Sally: I have just as much of a dark side as the next person
Harry: Oh really. When I buy a new book, I always read the last page first; that way, in case I die before I finish I know how it ends. That, my friend, is a dark side.
(from When Harry Met Sally)

I really hope people read the haftarah this week (Shabbat hagadol, Malachi 3:4-24) till the end, and observe the practice of going back and rereading verse 23, so as not to be left with the bad taste of the last six words of gloom. This happy almost-ending virtually turns the entire Haftarah upside down: instead of* the doom of the great and terrible Yom Hashem (day of the Eternal is rendering it literally, but it doesn't quite deliver...), it promises Elijah's arrival and the reconciliation of parents and children, a symbol for overall restoration:

הִנֵּה אָנֹכִי שֹׁלֵחַ לָכֶם אֵת אֵלִיָּה הַנָּבִיא לִפְנֵי בּוֹא יוֹם יְהֹוָה הַגָּדוֹל וְהַנּוֹרָא:
 וְהֵשִׁיב לֵב אָבוֹת עַל בָּנִים וְלֵב בָּנִים עַל אֲבוֹתָם פֶּן אָבוֹא וְהִכֵּיתִי אֶת הָאָרֶץ חֵרֶם
hineh anochi sholeah lachem et eliyah hanavi lifney bo yom hashem hagadol v'hanora
v'heshiv lev avot al banim v'lev banim al avotam pen avo v'hiketi et ha'aretz herem
Behold I send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and terrible day of the Eternal
He will turn the hearts of parents to their children and the hearts of children to their parents -- lest I come and smite the land with destruction 

We're told that Elijah is present at the initiation of every child into the covenant, so for me, reading this haftarah this year, filling Elijah's cup at the Seder on Wednesday night, and opening the door to let him in will echo the trauma we all went through eight days ago. The most spiritually devastating moment in that ritual also had a Seder connection: it was when the mohel recited ואומר לך בדמייך חיי ואומר לך בדמייך חיי (va'omar lach b'damayich hayee, va'omar lach b'damayich hayee "I said to you, live in your blood, I said to you, live in your blood"**, Ezekiel 16:6); this verse is so heavy with lachrymose alarmism, it sounded just like a curse...I had told the kids that it's better to let the (Orthodox) mohel do his thing and go, as opposed to trying to negotiate any adjustments in text or ritual, but I'll bet that if there are any more circumcisions in this family, they will be strictly medical procedures. 

Many moons ago, I somehow made it onto a list of lecturers who could be called up to speak to Israeli soldiers who would spend a week away from their military tasks, breathing in the exalted air of the Judean Hills and learning what it's all about; my usual topic was the holiness of Jerusalem, and after I insisted once too often that since, according to classical Jewish law, a sword that killed had the very highest degree of impurity, this week they'd have to track down the history of each and every weapon they were carrying, I stopped being invited. But before we parted ways, there was a time when I had to speak on "who is a Jew" -- the issue periodically comes up in Knesset debate -- and I brought the Talmudic teaching (Yevamot 79a) that defines us as רחמנים ביישנים וגומלי חסדים rahmanim, baishanim v'gomley hasadim "merciful, God-fearing/humble, and benificent." I'll never forget the response of one soldier who said, "but that's just what a human being should be!"

My grandson started that day as a human being; I hope his initiation into Judaism will never take away his humanity... And as for Elijah, after a week of struggle, I came across these two more hopeful cadenzas:

1. I was happy to find the following in the last lines of this week's Oz V'Shalom/Netivot Shalom parashat hashavua message (ozshalom@netvision.net.il):

The Future Role of the Prophet Elijah: he shall reconcile fathers with sons

 (from the haftara for Shabbat HaGadol)


The Sages say (Mishnah Eduyot 8:7), Not to push off or draw near, but rather to make peace in the world, for it is said, Lo I will send the prophet Elijah to you, and it concludes he shall reconcile fathers with sons and sons with fathers


2. But I was even happier, when googling "Elijah's seat," to find this link for use in spiritual practice:


So I guess I'm with Harry: read the last page first!

Shabbat shalom,

Jeremy

*I don't know if this notion that Elijah's arrival will cancel out all the punishment and destruction that is prescribed throughout the haftarah is a hiddush or totally baseless; other commentators I read did not seem to accord it such power. 

**which is brought in the Seder as an addendum to the midrash on Deut. 26:5. The adaptation is bold, even shocking: In Ezekiel, Israel is a foundling wallowing in blood, but in a circumcision, a perfectly healthy baby is made to bleed. The Passover midrash makes use of Ezekiel 16:7, but somehow, perhaps in the spirit of v'hi she'amdah, has to drag in the previous verse as well, and refers to another midrash which does not appear in the Hagaddah, but lingers in the air: you were naked of all mitzvot but two: the sacrifice of the pascal lamb and circumcision, and these merited your redemption. 
 
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