Thursday, August 26, 2010

Ki Tavo

The whole of the forty-year experience of exodus and then wandering in the desert was intended to be a preparation for entering the "Promised Land". We know only too well what a difficult, trying, and occasionally disastrous experience it was. Nevertheless, it was a tremendous feat, holding the people together and forging a new constitution and a new national character. Finally arriving and beginning the process of settlement brought with it other challenges.

Initially an invading force reaps the benefits of what others have planted or built. But in time new crops and new buildings spring up, as the old is slowly overtaken and forgotten.

The ceremony of bringing the first fruits is designed to get the settlers to appreciate their good fortune and, at the same time, to remember the past. These two ideas complement each other. It is a principle of Jewish law that one should actually try to enjoy life. We are commanded many times to rejoice. "God does not come to a person through sadness or depression or laziness, but through joy." But it is also a principle not to enjoy anything without first thanking God.

Thanking for what? It is so easy to take things for granted. If we normally enjoy good health, only sickness makes us fully appreciate our good fortune. Unlike in other traditions, there is no concept that suffering is necessary (of course it happens and often without any clear reason) or that only through suffering can one come to appreciate good things. In Judaism one can manage pretty well without suffering or evil, if one is lucky enough to be able to live without them. But then the only way to really appreciate our good fortune is to see it as a gift from God and to be grateful for it.

The formula that we recite when we bring the first fruits is one specifically designed to get us to appreciate our good fortune. Only by referring to the past can one appreciate the present. A bit like enjoying the rewards of graduating after remembering how hard you studied beforehand. Sometimes one needs to appreciate how far one has come materially since earlier generations struggled to survive. This is as true of post-war generations as it was of post-Exodus generations. Some things haven't changed over four thousand years.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Ki Teitzei

"The Torah recognizes the power of temptation." This is one of the responses of the rabbis to the law about a captive woman. War brings out the worst (and occasionally the best) in us. So the Torah allows for a soldier under conditions of war to take a woman captive. But then there is a whole procedure to go through before he can give in to his lust (some disagreement as to whether first time or second) and finally he must marry her and make "an honest woman" of her.

The next episode concerns a man with two wives--one beloved and the other not. He cannot favor the sons of the preferred wife over the seniority of the children of the hated one. And this is followed by a law about a son, out of control, who threatens his parents.

Rabbinic tradition sees these as sequential for a good reason. If marriage is based only on lust then the relationship is bound to falter and may indeed turn into hatred. Check out the story of the rape of Tamar, King David’s daughter, by her half-brother. A loveless marriage is bound to affect the children, and this in turn leads to loss of respect, rebelliousness, and a breakdown in normal family life.

The Torah does indeed recognize human frailty. But at the same time emphasizes that there are consequences. Our actions and their motives certainly have an impact, for better or for worse!

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Shoftim

In this week's Torah portion, there is the commandment to appoint a king. It is only mentioned here, not previously in the Torah, and it is phrased in an unusual way.

"When you come into the land which the Lord your God gives you, and you inherit it and settle it, and you may say, 'I want to appoint a king like all the other nations around me', then you may indeed appoint a king whom your God will choose."

The Torah then goes on to lay down conditions. He mustn't have too many wives (in case they distract him), or too many horses (lest he take people down to Egypt in search of more wealth), and he should always be subject to the Torah and not "above the law".

The question is whether monarchy is a necessary requirement of halacha. If so, why did Samuel get so angry when the people asked him to appoint a king? The usual reply is that the motive was wrong. Samuel argued that having God as the Supreme King was enough. Why want a human figurehead? Yet here in the Torah it says very clearly that even if the motive is the most non-Jewish motive of wanting to imitate pagan nations round about, they may still go ahead.

Actually, the motive of wanting to be like the other nations is relevant here specifically. The issue then becomes simply one of self-defense. They felt that having a supreme military commander might help them deal with the outside world better. Of course after the Saul failure it worked for awhile, but then descended into petty rivalry after Solomon. So why do we want to see King David and a monarchy restored?

I think it is just nostalgia, the dream of a time when we controlled our own destiny and King David was the boss and no one else. But now? I do not approve of the hereditary monarchy and would not want to see one. Either Elijah will come and decide we don't need the monarchy or I will have to change my mind.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Re'eh

Amongst the fascinating laws in this week's Torah is one that is particularly relevant. If a prophet or a dreamer emerges from amongst the Jewish people and performs miracles and uses these to get the Jews to abandon their God, then one is not allowed to listen or to pay any attention to the miracles themselves. This is simply a test to see how loyal we are to God and to the set of commands given to us through Moses. There in Chapter 13 is as clear a message as one could possibly wish for to refute any claims by Christians or "Jews for Jesus" that we can fulfill our spiritual destiny as Jews by rejecting or abandoning our tradition or by accepting a false prophet.

Interestingly, the passage does not say that magic might not work, just that we should not pay any attention. Miracles function to reinforce a prior commitment, not establish a new one. The message is the medium, tricks have their roles but they are secondary. Indeed the whole function and nature of miracles is downgraded by this passage. All our prophets sought to reinforce commitment to the full range of Torah principles--ethical, spiritual, ritual, and civil.

This does not mean that ours is the only religion and the only way that God communicates with humanity. There were other prophets amongst the rest of the world, and prophets from our tradition to the nations. The Torah assumes that other nations and traditions will coexist with ours, from Ishmael onwards. Even before Sinai, Avraham relates positively to Melchizedek of Shalem, a Priest to El Elyon. There are indeed many paths to God, and others may have equally high ethical and spiritual traditions.

But our tradition is our heritage and anyone trying to attack that fundamental cannot possibly have anything of value to say to us or to add to what has already been given.