Friday, May 3, 2013

The Word Carved Into The Rock: B'har-B'chukotai


The Word Carved Into The Rock
D’var Torah for B’har-B’chukotai
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman


One of the most powerful images in the entire Torah appears in this week’s parasha (actually, B’har-B’chukotai, Leviticus chapters 25-27, is a double portion, comprising the final three chapters of the book of Leviticus).  This image is part of a series of punishments God threatens to bring upon those people whose hearts are so hardened that they fail to follow the requirements of holiness God demands of us:  “I will break the pride of your power; I will make your heavens like iron and your earth like bronze” (Lev. 26:19).

Set at Har Sinai—Mount Sinai—when the Israelites are still wanderers in the wilderness, B’har envisions a potential reality, not an actual one.  The portion begins with a rich description of the earth’s fruitful bounty (a beautiful vision to a people lost in the desert).  The time of harvesting and threshing will last so long that it will merge with the following season of sowing and planting, with all having more than enough to eat and drink.  Yet this harmony between the earth and humanity is conditional.  It is based on our willingness to follow God’s ways—that is, to sanctify life, to live with justice, fairness and compassion as our guidelines.

These principles, however, are not limited only to our behavior with our fellow human beings.  They must provide the basis for our relationship with the very earth, in return for the earth’s blessings of nourishment and sustenance.

Shabbat symbolizes God’s presence in time—our time, the time allotted for our existence.  It is a day not only of rest, however, but also of reflection on our relationship with what we call Sacred.  Similarly, parashat B’har now instructs us to devote a similar measurement of time in recognition of God’s presence in space.  For six years we may cultivate the land, reaping, sowing and harvesting again; but the seventh year must be set aside as a time for rest and renewal for the earth. 

The laws of sh’mitta, the Sabbath of the land, are many and complex.  Ostensibly a way to restore agricultural balance to an overworked land, sh’mitta is also that much more.  It represents our acknowledgment of the holiness inherent in the earth, not because it is in itself divine (a pagan belief), but rather because it contains God’s blessing, the gift of life.  It is a gift we enjoy but that we must also share with all other inhabitants of the planet.

The soft, pliant earth can take the seed we plant in it, absorb rain water and the sun’s warming rays, and turn right around and give us its bounty in the form of grain and fruit.  The heavens exhibit a similar gentle softness, giving and accepting breath, wind and water.

But earth and heavens can turn on us, too.  Pollution, abuse and misuse of nature’s resources erode the once-plentiful reserves.  Fertile lands can turn into desert; seas can disappear; the sky chokes with pollutants. 

Just as a heart hardens and turns into rock when we ignore the plight of the persecuted, so can the soft, fertile earth.  Sanctity is a common denominator between us and our environment.  The way we treat other living beings and the way we treat the earth will be our portion in return.

Recognition of the gifts inherent within us and around us does not give us permit to waste them.  Knowing that these represent a loan rather than an outright gift, we must understand that the payback God expects from us is that we share the earth’s bounty with those less fortunate than us; that we return some of the resources back to the air, land and sea around us; that we leave some of the yield unharvested for the benefit of the homeless and defenseless.

It is so that the book of Leviticus closes, with laws of righteousness and compassion that we must engrave into the very rock.  Embedded within the rock, the word is Holiness.  It is to be a permanent reminder of the potential of the rock to turn into soft soil, a source of life and blessing; or to harden and turn into iron and bronze, becoming a weapon of cruelty and oppression. 

The choice is ours.

Chazak, chazak v’nit-chazek—be strong, be of courage, and we shall all be strengthened.


© 2013 by Boaz D. Heilman





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