Drashot

Devarim in Hebrew means words. It is also the Hebrew title of the fifth book or our Torah and of this week’s Parasha. Our Torah begins with words. God creates the universe through Divine speech. Now our Torah is ending with words as Moses retells the story of the Exodus and the wanderings in the desert to the generation that has come of age in freedom. 

The blessing for Torah study ends with the words, la’asok b’divrei Torah, to engage with words of Torah. The small selection of Torah we traditionally read after saying the blessing comes from Mishnah, Peah 1:1 (can be found in Mishkan Tefila P. 44) and reads,  “These are the things that are limitless, of which a person enjoys the fruit in this world, while the principal remains in the world to come. They are: honoring one’s father and mother, engaging in deeds of compassion, arriving early for study, morning and evening, dealing graciously with guests, visiting the sick, providing for the wedding couple, accompanying the dead for burial, being devoted in prayer, making peace among people. But the study of Torah encompasses them all.” 

This mishnah is a series of behaviors that defines, more or less, how to be a good person. But what does it mean, that the study of Torah encompasses them all. Are we supposed to perform these actions in our lives or just learn about them? Our Torah portion gives us an answer, Moses tells the Israelites, “Our God, Adonai, spoke to us at Horeb, saying: You have stayed long enough at this mountain.” (Deuteronomy 1:6) Rashi (11th C. Germany) explains that Horeb is Mt. Sinai, where the Israelites received the Divine revelation of Torah. They were literally learning Torah, at the feet of God. The purpose of Torah is how to act morally in the world. God is telling the Israelites, it’s time to stop learning and put God’s moral law into practice. That is our purpose in life. We learn Torah to be moral human beings. That is why it is the tree of life. But Judaism is a religion of action and behavior. It is not enough to believe. It is not enough to learn. We must transform the world through our actions.

These are challenging times, when Israel is at war with Hamas in Gaza, Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Houthis in Yemen and, by extension with Iran, who arms, trains, and orchestrates these militias. In addition we have seen a rise in anti-Israel agitation at the local and federal levels and the growth of anti-semitism in word and deed. In these times it is important to ask what is our relationship with the State of Israel, as Jews living in America, the largest community in the diaspora. For some Jews, like Jewish Voice for Peace or If Not Now, the answer is to join with those who would like to end US government support and see Israel erased from the map. Others feel ambivalence about the level of violence and civilian deaths in this war and aren’t sure what to do. Yet others, who have never thought much about Israel, are surprised or shocked at the rise in antisemitism, and find themselves wondering where Israel fits into their Jewish identity.

This week’s Torah portion, in Numbers 32:1-42, gives us a model of how to connect to the State of Israel. The tribes of Gad and Reuven ask Moses for permission to settle on the East side of the Jordan River and not enter the Land of Israel. At first Moses chastises them for refusing to enter the land. But the tribes make an oath that they will serve as “shock troops” and lead the Israelites in the conquest of the Land of Israel and will come to the Israelites’ collective  defense whenever they are needed. 

Our Torah teaches us that we must be willing to come to the aid of our brothers and sisters in Israel even as we attend to our own needs here. Some say that the primary Jewish value is Tikkun Olam, literally repairing the world or making it better. But just as important is ahavat Yisrael, love for and commitment to the Jewish People. As Jews living outside of Israel we must balance these two values in our lives and in our actions.

This has been a tumultuous political week. Former President Donald Trump barely missed an assassin’s bullet and was chosen to be the Republican candidate for President in the upcoming election. President Joe Biden relinquished his reelection bid on Sunday and endorsed Vice-President Kamala Harris to be the standard bearer for the Democrats. These are times of transition and change when the ground seems to be shifting beneath our feet. 

This week’s Torah portion, Pinchas, explores leadership transition when Moses passes his mantle on to Joshua to lead the Israelites after his death. This section of our Torah portion begins with the words, “Moses spoke to Adonai, saying, Let Adonai, Source of the breath of all flesh, appoint someone over the community” (Numbers 27:15-16) This construction is unique in the Torah and reversal of the usual formulation, “God spoke to Moses, saying…” With this unique language the Torah is signaling that something unusual is happening. Commenting on this verse, Raashi (11th C. Germany) brings a commentary from Sifrei Bamidbar 138, “This serves to show the praise of the righteous: when they are about to depart from the world, they abandon all thought of their own affairs and occupy themselves with the affairs of the community.”

Moses had reluctantly accepted the burden of leading the Israelites out of slavery and now he knows it is time to step aside, so he asks for God’s help to find a suitable replacement. This is why Moses is our paragon of leadership. He combined strength with humility. He served his people when called and stepped aside when the time was right. There is a lesson for us, and our leaders, in his example.

Rufus Miles, an academic and government administrator from the 1930’s through the 1960’s, said, “Where you stand depends on where you sit,” or how we see the world depends on our perspective. In this week’s Torah portion, Balak, the King of Moab, is terrified of the oncoming Israelite host. He fears they will conquer and destroy the Moabite kingdom, so he hires Bala’am, a prophet for hire, to curse the Israelites. 

Bala’am happily takes Balak’s money but can’t find it in himself to curse Israel. God comes to him into a dream and tells him not to. Then an angel, visible to his donkey but not to him, tells him not to and finally, when he sees the Israelites encamped he is moved to praise them, “How goodly are your tents Jacob; your dwelling places Israel.” (Numbers 24:5)

King Balak goes away unsatisfied with Bala’am’s work and Bala’am will soon die. Balak can only see Israel as a threat, and Bala’am, despite his desire for riches, cannot satisfy him. But what if their worldview were different? What if they had listened to what God was telling them, that Israel is chosen, that they will be a blessing to those who heed them? Then this story might have had a very different outcome. But it is hard to rise above our fears; to see blessings that may be hidden from us by our limited vision. Imagine how our lives and our world would be transferred if we moved from a place of fear to a place of faith. We might see everything differently.

When we face a serious challenge, how do we see it? Perhaps more importantly, when facing that challenge, how do we see ourselves? Are we up to it, or do we wilt in the face of it? The news these days are filled with deep and complicated problems: a loss of faith in our democracy and the seemingly irreconcilable divide between right and left, climate change, the war between Israel and Hamas (and Hezbollah, the Houthis, and Iran), the rising tide of extremism and prejudice (including, but not exclusively, antisemitism). It might be easy, or tempting to look at these serious, perhaps existential problems, and decide to stick our heads in the sand or to throw up our hands in despair. It may be tempting, but that guarantees a bad outcome and there is an alternative. 

This is the situation the Israelites find themselves in this week in our Torah portion. God commands Moses to send 12 spies to scout the Land of Israel and bring a report back to the Israelites. Their report is encouraging, “We came to the land you sent us to; it does indeed flow with milk and honey, and this is its fruit.” (Numbers 13:27) But then they add this warning, “we saw the Nephilim [a race of giants, DK]  there—the Anakites [another race of giants, DK] are part of the Nephilim—and we looked like grasshoppers to ourselves, and so we must have looked to them.” (Numbers 13:33) In other words, the land is very good but we have no chance of conquering it. Not because of the giants who live there, but because they lack the self-confidence, or perhaps the faith, to believe they will prevail, particularly when God has promised the Israelites they will prevail. 

It is at this moment, when the Israelites give in to their fear and lack of faith, that God decides that they all must wander in the wilderness until the generation of slavery dies off. Only their offspring will be allowed to enter the Land of Israel. In other words, they imagine a catastrophic outcome and create a self-fulfilling prophecy, dooming themselves to a life of wandering.

 Fear is a powerful emotion, it holds great sway over us. But no one accomplished anything great through fear. If we want to address the problems of our times we must not act like ten of the spies, who saw themselves as grasshoppers and gave away their agency. We must be like Joshua and Calev, who despite seeing the same thing the other spies saw, said, “Let us by all means go up, and we shall gain possession of it, for we shall surely overcome it.” (Numbers 13:30) The opposite of fear is not courage, but faith: faith in God and faith in our own capacity to overcome the problems of our world and create a better one. Let us have the faith of Joshua and Caleb.

Transitions are hard; so is change. Perhaps that is why we want life to be predictable and certain. But even if that is what we crave, in our hearts we know life is always changing. Once we were young and we grew into adulthood. Once we had young children, now they are grown, perhaps with children of their own. We may be strong now, but we know we will age, grow weaker and eventually die. These are the realities of life, even if we turn away from them most of the time.

In this week’s Torah portion, Chukat, two of the Israelites most important leaders die, Miriam at the beginning of our portion (Numbers 20:1) and Aaron at the end (Numbers 20:28). This is a time of transition. Commenting on these deaths Rashi (11th C. Germany) adds, “because those who were to die in the wilderness had already ceased to exist.” In other words, the entire generation who had experienced slavery had also died (with the exception of Moses, Joshua and Caleb). A new generation, born in the freedom and privation of the wilderness journey now comes into their own.

They have some of the same traits as their parents. They complain when Miriam dies, “how will we get water?” (Numbers 20:2). When Aaron dies they complain again about the uncertainty of food in the wilderness (Numbers 21:5) and they are struck with a plague of poisonous snakes. Yet there is also change and growth. This new generation does something their parents never could, they take responsibility for their actions, apologize, and seek forgiveness “We sinned by speaking against יהוה and against you. Intercede with Adonai to take away the serpents from us!” (Numbers 21:7) Again, according to Rashi for this reason God ends the plague.

We can learn from this to adapt to life’s changes, no matter how difficult they may be. We can embrace life and continue to change and grow as long as we are alive.

We live in challenging and unsettled times. Many of the old orthodoxies about government and the place of democracy in our country are being challenged. The so-called “populist” right argues that our country’s elites have ignored their needs and left them behind and that the political structures of our country are fixed and beyond repair. They seek a strongman, like Donald Trump, who cultivates his own cult of personality, to blow the whole system up and build something better from scratch. The so-called “progressive” left argues that our country’s institutions are structured to perpetuate inequality and must be torn down if we are ever to achieve a truly equal society in which the voices of marginalized people are heard and their needs are met. Meanwhile, much of the middle of the country is silent and Jews find no home in either the populist right or the progressive left. This is true in Europe as well. 

In this week’s Torah portion we see the same phenomenon. Korach, a Levite and a member of the priestly elite, challenges Moses and Aaron’s leadership saying, “You have gone too far! For all the community are holy, all of them, and Adonai is in their midst. Why then do you raise yourselves above Adonai’s congregation?” (Numbers 16:3) This appears to be a call for a more egalitarian political structure among the Israelites. Since all Israel stood at Sinai why should Moses and Aaron enjoy a higher political status than anyone else? Korach, conveniently omits that it was God who chose Moses and Aaron to lead the Israelites to freedom and Moses initially refused this charge. Our Sages of Blessed Memory see Korach, not as a true egalitarian, but as one who seeks power for his own ego gratification, Bartenura (15th C. Italy) in his commentary on Pirkei Avot wrote, [An] argument which is not for the sake of Heaven… as we found in the argument of Korach and his congregation – that their aim and ultimate intent was to achieve honor and power, and the opposite was [achieved],” 

This week’s Torah portion offers us a cautionary tale, and perhaps the truest definition of conservatism. When someone challenges the political order, study them well, discern who they are and their real motivations before jumping into common cause with them. Only those who truly have the interest of the community at heart and are humble (like Moses) are worthy of leadership, not egotists, power mongers, and demagogues. This is worth remembering this July 4th holiday weekend.

When we face a serious challenge, how do we see it? Perhaps more importantly, when facing that challenge, how do we see ourselves? Are we up to it, or do we wilt in the face of it? The news these days are filled with deep and complicated problems: a loss of faith in our democracy and the seemingly irreconcilable divide between right and left, climate change, the war between Israel and Hamas (and Hezbollah, the Houthis, and Iran), the rising tide of extremism and prejudice (including, but not exclusively, antisemitism). It might be easy, or tempting to look at these serious, perhaps existential problems, and decide to stick our heads in the sand or to throw up our hands in despair. It may be tempting, but that guarantees a bad outcome and there is an alternative. 

This is the situation the Israelites find themselves in this week in our Torah portion. God commands Moses to send 12 spies to scout the Land of Israel and bring a report back to the Israelites. Their report is encouraging, “We came to the land you sent us to; it does indeed flow with milk and honey, and this is its fruit.” (Numbers 13:27) But then they add this warning, “we saw the Nephilim [a race of giants, DK]  there—the Anakites [another race of giants, DK] are part of the Nephilim—and we looked like grasshoppers to ourselves, and so we must have looked to them.” (Numbers 13:33) In other words, the land is very good but we have no chance of conquering it. Not because of the giants who live there, but because they lack the self-confidence, or perhaps the faith, to believe they will prevail, particularly when God has promised the Israelites they will prevail. 

It is at this moment, when the Israelites give in to their fear and lack of faith, that God decides that they all must wander in the wilderness until the generation of slavery dies off. Only their offspring will be allowed to enter the Land of Israel. In other words, they imagine a catastrophic outcome and create a self-fulfilling prophecy, dooming themselves to a life of wandering.

 Fear is a powerful emotion, it holds great sway over us. But no one accomplished anything great through fear. If we want to address the problems of our times we must not act like ten of the spies, who saw themselves as grasshoppers and gave away their agency. We must be like Joshua and Calev, who despite seeing the same thing the other spies saw, said, “Let us by all means go up, and we shall gain possession of it, for we shall surely overcome it.” (Numbers 13:30) The opposite of fear is not courage, but faith: faith in God and faith in our own capacity to overcome the problems of our world and create a better one. Let us have the faith of Joshua and Caleb.

As a people who have survived for thousands of years with a collective sense of national identity and a particular religious practice, we Jews have shown remarkable adaptability. Had we stayed fixed in our old ways, we might have disappeared. 

For example, after the Temple was destroyed and we could no longer worship God through animal sacrifice as had we had for a thousand years, our Sages of Blessed Memory changed Jewish worship from sacrifice to prayers, study and acts of loving-kindness and kept the Jewish religion alive. After the Romans exiled us from the Land of Israel, we found a way to live, in exile, among the nations of the world while maintaining our own identity, often at great cost. As a people and a religion we live between the poles of tradition and change, as well as commitment to core values combined with flexibility. This is not a new reality, but dates back to our beginnings as a people. 

In this week’s Torah portion we read God’s instructions to the Israelites, “ Let the Israelite people offer the passover sacrifice at its set time: you shall offer it on the fourteenth day of this month, at twilight, at its set time; you shall offer it in accordance with all its rules and rites.” (Numbers 11:2-3) God commands the time that Pesach will be celebrated. That seems clear enough. Then a few verses later we read, “And Adonai spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the Israelite people, saying: When any party—whether you or your posterity—who is ritually impure or is on a long journey would offer a passover sacrifice to Adonai, they shall offer it in the second month, on the fourteenth day of the month, at twilight.” (Leviticus 11:11-12) In other words, the Passover sacrifice MUST be performed on a set date and time, for anyone who is able. But those who are unable to do so, can do it a month later. This is not permission to celebrate Passover whenever we want, but does allow flexibility to those who can’t. Circumstances matter, integrity matters, and adaptability matters as well. We need to negotiate all three to remain a living people and a living religious tradition.

This Sunday is Father’s Day, which originated in Spokane, WA in 1909. For much of its history it was resisted by the public, because it was seen as a marketing opportunity more than a legitimate holiday. Nonetheless, or perhaps because of this, it has become part of the fabric of American life. Regardless, there is a connection, perhaps tenuous, between Father’s Day (and Mother’s Day) and this week’s Torah portion: the birkat kohanim or priestly blessing. “May God bless you and watch over you. May God show you kindness and grace. May God’s presence be upon you and grant you peace.” (Numbers 6:24 – 26) This is one of the oldest blessings in our tradition and was first recited here by Aaron, the High Priest, over all of Israel. It lives on in our lives today. In our synagogue we recite this blessing over the congregation on the High Holy Days, on Shabbat morning, and during special life cycle moments, like b’nai mitzvah and weddings. But perhaps the most beautiful use of this blessing is by parents over their children on Shabbat and holiday evenings. It can be an expression of parental love and hope as well as the power of holiness in our families. By blessing our children we teach them that each of us can be a klei kodesh, a sacred vessel or a channel that can bring sanctity and meaning into their lives. 

According to our tradition, the Jewish people have been in a relationship with God since God first spoke to Abraham, then liberated us from Egyptian slavery and spoke to us at Mount Sinai. How do we continue to cultivate this relationship? This week’s Torah portion, Bechukotai, completes the third book of the Torah, Leviticus or Viyakra, in Hebrew. Vayikra, laid out in minute detail all the laws of the sacrificial service, which was how the Jewish People mediated their relationship with God for at least 1,500 years. 

But in 70 C.E. the Romans destroyed the Temple and we were prohibited from performing sacrifice, so what is the relevance of these archaic laws of sacrifice, why do we continue to study them? Commenting on the first verse of this week’ parsha, “If you follow My laws and faithfully observe My commandments.” (Leviticus 27:3) Sforno (15th C Italy) wrote,
“It means that they cannot just be performed by rote but must be performed consciously as such… you will study these laws in order to understand their purpose and in order to give meaning to your performance of these laws” In other words, now that we can no longer sacrifice, we cultivate our relationship with God through the fulfillment of mitzvot and learning Torah to understand the meaning of these mitzvot. 

And there is still more, like this story, from Avot de Rabbi Natan, “Once, Rabban [our rabbi] Yohanan ben Zakkai, left Jerusalem, and Rabbi Yehoshua followed after him. And he saw the Holy Temple destroyed. [Rabbi Yehoshua said: Woe to us, for this is destroyed –] the place where all of Israel’s sins are forgiven! [Rabbi Yohanan] said to him: My son, do not be distressed, for we have a form of atonement just like it. And what is it? Acts of kindness, as it says (Psalms 89:3), “For I desire kindness, not a well-being offering.” 

As our sages say, the world exists because of three things, Torah (study), avodah, (worship) and gemilut chasadim (acts of loving kindness) and this is how we can build and preserve our relationship with God today.