Parashat Beha'alotchah

Sivan 16, 5773 ~ May 25, 2013
by Diane Whitten-Vile

Beha’Alosecha 8:1-12:16

There is a joke I’ve heard many times about a group of Jewish ladies having lunch in a restaurant.   The waiter comes up to the table and says “Is anything all right?”  Implying of course, that nothing is ever ok.  Jews complain.  A lot.  There are many jokes of this nature.  Is this anti-Semitism; a bad stereotype?  I’ll leave that to you to answer.

But complaining plays a big role in this week’s parsha.  It seems that this parsha contains maybe one of  (if not THE)  worst crisis of Moshes life.  Incited by the “mixed multitude”, the Israelites complain about…what else, the food.  Remember the joke told by Woody Allen in Annie Hall?  A group of Jews are having lunch at a restaurant and one person says to the other one, “the food here is terrible” and the other person says, “yes, and such small portions”

The Israelites say “If only we had meat to eat.  We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost, also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, etc.  But now we have lost our appetite: we never see anything but this manna”.  It was quite an appalling show of ingratitude, but certainly not the first time the Israelites had complained.  In Marah, they complained that the water was too bitter.  They protested the lack of food. Later, at Refidim, they grumbled at the absence of water, prompting Moshe to say to Hashem, “What am I to do with these people? They are ready to stone me”

The episode in this week’s Torah portion-at the place now known as Kivrot Hataavah-was not the first challenge Moshe faced.  However, Moshes reaction this time is filled with much more despair.  He tells Hashem he cannot carry all these people by himself, the burden is too heavy.  He actually tells Hashem, if this is how you are going to treat me, put me to death.    He prays to die.  Moshe had faced and overcome many difficulties before.  Why the nervous breakdown now? 

Equally interesting is Hashems reaction.  He tells Moshe to bring him 70 elders who are known as leaders and officials.   Hashem says “I will come down and speak with you, and I will take of the spirit that is on you and put the spirit on them.  They will help you carry the burden”   In what way would the appointment of elders address the crisis? I believe Moshe already had a group of men, representatives, officals-who would help Moshe.  This idea of “assistants” was suggested to him by his father in law.   A suggestion Moshe followed.

Rabbi Moshe Lichtenstein, in his book about Moshe’s leadership, suggest that the reason Moshe was in deeper despair has to do with the timing of the complaints.  Due to the giving of the Torah and the construction of the Tabernacle, the Israelites are turned from an undisciplined mass of fugitive slaves into a nation whose constitution is the Torah.  They are no longer what they were before.  So, looking back, maybe one could forgive their earlier complaints.   But now, they had gone through such a transformative experience that shaped them as a nation.   So, for Moshe it must have seemed that not miracles, deliverances, nor revelations at Sinai could change these people.  It’s possible this explains the depth of his despair.

With the 70 elders, Hashem took “the spirit that is on you and put it on them” so that Moshe could see the difference he hade made to one group, the elders.  He was able to see that the 70 elders had internalized his spirit and made his message their own. Moshe needed nothing more.  He didn’t really need their help.  What he got was a transparent glimpse of how his spirit had communicated itself to them.  For a brief moment, Hashem let Moshe see how his “spirit” had entered this group of elders, and lifted them to the level of prophetic vision.  Then, Moshe knew he had a made a difference.  He could see that others would continue his work after he was gone.

In speaking to a dear friend who lost her husband last week end in a tragic car accident, we spoke of his positive effect on my life and the lives of everyone he touched while he was alive.  How tragic also that I kept that sense of gratitude and love to myself, instead of sharing it with my great friend Steve who is now gone.

Moshe’s experience reminds me of the movie “It’s a Wonderful Life”.   Jimmy Stewart gets to glimpse how he had changed the world and how his life had made such a difference in others lives.  Hopefully, in dark moments of wondering if we are doing anything to make a difference, we can understand that the good we do will live on after us, perhaps in ways we can’t even imagine now.

Parshat Bechukotai

Rain, Materialistic Blessings and Fulfillment:
The Torah Portion of Bechukotai

Iyar 24, 5773 ~ May 4, 2013
by Michal Kohane

 

Did I mention? I love Hebrew! Maybe not at first site, and not when I studied for matriculation exams in language and grammar, but ever since, things just get better. And the longer we get to hang around together, the deeper our connection.

Hebrew has an amazing system of roots that shed light on each other. Consider this: kaved means heavy, while kavod is honor, and indeed, depicts someone that has “weight” – in their own eyes, and in the eyes of those around them; a word which stands in contradiction to kal meaning light and klala - curse, or as befits the opposite of “weighted one” - taking someone lightly. 

Rain in the Torah is often used as a key blessing. We probably know it best from the second paragraph of the Shma, and we will also see it in this week’s parasha, the last parasha of the Book of Leviticus. Bechukotai deals with the “blessing and curses”, also known as consequences: if we do good, good things will happen, and if not – a much longer and more detailed list of bad things will happen.

אם בחוקותי תלכו – If you walk in accordance with My law… the word for law here is “chukot”, usually meaning laws for which we can find no simple reason other than “kdusha”, holiness. Examples might include kashrut, sha’atnez and even Shabbat. For those we need great faith because, at the end of the day, those are the ones which have no rational explanation. Luckily about these laws the Torah just says here – “If you walk…” which according to some means, if you just get on the journey, it will count in your favor. You might not get all of them perfectly right, but at least start on the path in the right direction.

ונתתי גשמיכם בעתם – the first reward for doing the right thing is timely rain. Rain in Israel, especially of ancient times and still today is critical. Unlike Egypt – and the two are often put in contrast to each other – the Land of Israel has very limited resources, and those are all dependent on the Heavens. There are no daily tropical showers, great lakes, or man-made system of canals that ensure year-round steady flow. On the other hand, there are also no gods fighting with each other, expressing their capricious nature, oblivious to the humans far below. According to the Torah, rain is a reflection of a good relationship between the Children of Israel, their G-d and the way of life He prescribes to his People.

There is a midrash on Psalms 73:3 where it says: יִשְּׂאוּ הָרִים שָׁלוֹם לָעָם וּגְבָעוֹת בִּצְדָקָה – “mountains will bring peace to the nation, and the hills – tzedaka”. But how can that be? Do mountains bring peace and hills bring tzedaka? It is said: where there is no rain and little fruit, there is strife in the world. How so? One person might enter a vineyard of his fellow man in order to satisfy his hunger. The vineyard’s owner would be surprised and angry at the intruder, thus they begin to quarrel. Yet, while there is lots of rain, there is food, things are good and there is peace. Therefore the promise for “rain in its season” is a promise for peace in the word.

The same root used for the word גשם – geshem is also part of gashmiyut – materialism, and hitgashmut – fulfillment or self-realization. To me this is an extension of the original text that expresses two important, intertwined ideas: the first is that blessings express themselves in the material world around us, and I like the idea that the spiritual and the physical are closely connected, and that the physical is a reflection of other, deeper, hidden occurrences. It also reminds and teaches us that there is no sin in being affluent or living well, as long as we remember where are blessings are coming from and our tzedaka obligations.

And what if we do what we perceive as “the right thing” and there is no visible “reward”, “outcome” or physical benefits for us doing so, for after all, there is no guarantee for those? That’s where the second point comes in: more than walking in the right path is a recipe for receiving material goods, it is a journey for self-fulfillment and realization. Thus we can read the text like this: embarking on the journey, davka (especially) in dealing with those G-d given commandments we don’t necessarily fully comprehend, has the potential of bringing us closer to our own true self-fulfillment.