The Holiness Within Us: Acharei Mot—Kedoshim.23

The Holiness Within Us

D’var Torah for Acharei Mot—Kedoshim

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

April 25, 2023

The double-portion comprising this week’s Torah reading is Acharei Mot—Kedoshim, (“following the death—holy”), Leviticus 16:1-20:27.

These portions follow the calamity that befell two of Aaron’s sons, Nadav and Avihu, on the day of inauguration of the Tabernacle. Having offered “a strange fire” to God, they were struck dead by a fire that came from God. The tragic incident, discussed by rabbis and commentators for centuries, is vague, perhaps on purpose. What they did that provoked such an immediate and extreme reaction from God is not clear. Perhaps the purpose of this episode is to remind people of the dangers associated with religion, and in particular either drawing too near to God, or doing so without proper preparation.

The focus of Acharei Mot—Kedoshim is not on the tragedy itself however, but rather on how we should approach God and holiness—a counterpart to Nadav and Avihu’s wrongful behavior.

While the first of the two portions focuses on sacrifices, the second, Kedoshim (“Holy”), takes a surprising turn. It doesn’t speak of sacrifices or prayers; rather, it turns our attention to the way people should interrelate to one another. Found precisely at the center of the Torah, at the Torah’s heart as it were, the laws of Kedoshim comprise the section of the Torah sometimes called The Holiness Code. These verses are read not only during the regular cycle of weekly readings, but also on the afternoon of Yom Kippur—the holiest day in our Jewish calendar.

These laws contain the essence of Jewish thinking: holiness isn’t found only in our complex and diverse relationships with God. Holiness exists in the way we treat one another. Just as we would bring to God our best offerings, both in material and in spiritual terms, so we must behave with our fellow human beings, and indeed, with the earth and all its creatures. Some of these laws outline sexual morals and ethics (including the infamous laws against homosexual relations, now understood in terms of dominance and subjugation rather than as an expression of love and equality). 

Respecting the elderly; paying the day laborer at the end of the workday; leaving the edge of one’s field unharvested (for the poor, the homeless and even for foraging animals) are examples of behavior that bring holiness into our lives.

Even for an atheist, these laws are representative of decency and goodness. How much more so for believers in a higher force! 

Back when these laws were written into the Torah, there were basically two ways of connecting with divine forces: prayer and sacrifice. The Holiness Code brings a new idea into human awareness: that interpersonal relationships in themselves contain holiness or—at the very least—are pathways to God.

How we speak to one another matters. How we treat one another makes a difference. Seeing the holiness that is inherent in ourselves as well as in others is the same as seeing God in the world around us. It’s as simple as that.

© 2023 by Boaz D. Heilman

Israel at 75

 Israel at 75

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

April 21, 2023

As the State of Israel is set to celebrate its 75th Independence Day, it still faces existential threats. In fact, Israel is the only country in the world that faces such threats, as well as frequent acts of violence and terrorism. Ironically, and not by coincidence, it’s also the only Jewish state in the world.

While by and large international support for Israel remains strong, false narratives that undermine its existence have become more strident in recent years, once again paralleling—and once again not by coincidence—the rise in anti-Semitism all over the world.

The constant repetition of these narratives in the social media and as part of almost every political discussion have not failed to leave a mark on American Jews. A few years ago, a fifth grader in a class I was teaching walked in and declared without the least amount of doubt in his voice, that in creating the State of Israel the Jews simply marched in and kicked out the Arabs who were already there. While that child could possibly be excused from not knowing his history, what his words reflected was what he learned at school and probably heard at home as well. Gone were the comprehension, excitement and even religious fervor of a previous generation of Jews—those who survived the Holocaust or witnessed its horrors from afar, those who saw the numbers tattooed on their arms and intrinsically understood in their hearts and souls what Israel’s existence meant.

Now however a new generation has arisen that takes for granted Israel’s existence without understanding either the historical context that led up to its creation or the deep and lasting effect it has had both on the Jewish People and on the world as a whole.  

Israel’s high-tech contributions outpace those of just about every other country in the world. Israel leads the world in biomedical technology and collaborates closely with other countries in extending life expectancy and improving the quality of life. Israel is in the forefront of countries battling climate change. The State of Israel provides medical and other aid to third-world countries and to regions affected by natural disasters such as earthquakes and hurricanes.

And these are just some of the literally dozens of technological innovations and humanitarian actions that Israel is known for.

Contrary to shrill cries from both international communities and from within Israel itself, the State of Israel is still a viable democracy—the only one in the entire Middle East. Its political system, though at times confusing and chaotic, is not in mortal danger. And while politicization of the judicial process is a danger we must all be concerned with, Israel’s judiciary system is not enroute to an early demise—at least not any more than our own courts in the United States. Israel’s democratic system is vibrant, as is evident from the weekly demonstrations that have been taking place there since the last election. Hundreds of thousands of its citizens have been taking to the streets on a weekly basis to demonstrate against the increasing political power of the religious Orthodox parties. And yet not a single fatality—thank God! No looting, no storefront windows smashed or defaced with racist graffiti, only—here and there—a handful of protestors arrested and soon released. Such is the power of freedom in Israel, the right to protest and share your own opinion and perspective on just about any subject. 

Ironically, while always remaining vigilant and constantly assessing potential threats to its safety and security, Israel remains a stabilizing strategic element in the region. Standing up to Iranian dreams of expansionism, including keeping a watchful eye on Iran’s plans to produce nuclear arms, Israel has also kept Syria from imploding under its own weight of autocratic dictatorship; Lebanon, from being completely overtaken by Iran’s military proxy, Hezbollah; and, despite the Palestinian Authority’s leader Mahmoud Abbas’s claims, Israel has enabled Abbas to retain power even as Hamas—yet another terror organization funded and armed by Iran—continues to undermine the Palestinian Authority’s power structure.

Globally, despite occasional disagreements, Israel remains among the most reliable allies the United States has anywhere in the world. And while—for international strategic reasons—Israel has chosen not to provide Iron Dome technology to Ukraine, earlier this month, exactly one day after joining NATO, Finland announced that it would purchase Israel’s David’s Sling, a ground-based air defense system that would help protect and defend Finland along its 832-mile border with Russia. 

These decisions and policies by themselves would make Israel the number-one enemy for many anti-Western countries and political entities around the world, but there is more behind the hatred and calls for dismantling and destruction, with Israel standing alone as the only country in the world that faces such calls on a regular, daily basis.

For while most of the world remembers the Holocaust and honors its dead victims, many still refuse to grant the living remnant of the Jewish People its inalienable right to determine and defend itself. While some accuse Israel of being an occupying power, the truth is that most Moslem and Arab States aren’t in the least interested in a side-by-side two-state solution. Time and again, Israel’s government accepted this political compromise while the Arabs rejected it. Incitement at schools, in the media and at weekly Friday sermons encourages and celebrates the murder of Jews wherever they are—in the West Bank or in Tel Aviv, in Israel or abroad.

The current rise in anti-Semitism in the United States and elsewhere around the world is not the result of any action on the part of Israel’s government. At question are neither Israel’s boundaries nor the so-called “settlements.” The outright denial of our history and legacy, the rejection of our legitimate connection to the Land of Israel, are in truth the latest incarnation of the age-old, vile and senseless hatred of the Jewish People. 

Anti-Zionism is anti-Semitism.

If we Jews have learned anything at all from our history it’s that we must be able to defend ourselves. It’s the legitimate right of every individual, race, religion and nation, a right that still today—as it has been for millennia—is denied only to the Jewish People.

In order to understand today’s Middle East, it’s imperative that we understand its historical context. In order to remain strong as a people that has made inestimable contributions to human civilization, it’s essential that Jews all over the world continue supporting Israel even as it carries on its mission of providing a home for persecuted Jews, protecting Jewish lives, and defining the meaning and purpose of our collective Jewish experience. 

Happy Independence Day, Israel! May you stay safe and strong and continue being a beacon of light for all who seek freedom, truth and knowledge all over the world. L’chayim! To life!

© 2023 by Boaz D. Heilman

Physical and Social Illnesses: Tzaria-Metzora.23

 Physical and Social Illnesses

D’var Torah for Tazria-Metzora

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

April 19, 2023

Of the entire Torah, hardly any section is any more obsolete than this week’s double portion, Tazria-Metzora (“Conception-Leprosy,” Leviticus 12:1—15:33). Almost as soon as these portions were committed to parchment, their particulars became generalized and expanded.

Not that the subject matter isn’t important. Both portions deal with health issues that have been of the utmost concern forever—and are still so today. Conception and childbirth are at the core of the many rifts that are tearing our society apart today, and the COVID-19 virus with all its variants continues to cause if not actual panic, then at least foreboding and apprehension.

However, the skin disorders that the Torah portions discuss are so vague that any course of clinical observation and treatment became impossible from the very start. Tzara’at, the name given by the Torah to the skin disease that it attempts to describe, was mistranslated into Greek as lepra, giving rise to the misconception that it was leprosy, or as it is known today, Hansen’s disease. Yet even by the time of the earliest commentaries on the portion, the disease was explained as midrash—allegory—rather than literally. 

Whatever the disease was, its symptoms were not restricted to the human body. Tzara’at could be found in clothing; it could also appear on house walls, both within and on the outside. The treatment varied as widely as the symptoms—from exclusion from any social interaction to the tearing apart and rebuilding of homes, and burning any object found within such a “diseased” house.

Based on linguistic tweaking, the rabbinic explanation was that the cause of the disease was gossip and slander. The disease turned from a physical sickness into a social one.

Today we would be justified in expanding these vices to also include bigotry and prejudice.

The “spots” and “discolorations” that we observe on one another may be real or imagined; but when we use them to judge one another, what are actually doing is spreading a disease that can be fatal both to ourselves and to others. When we belittle others because of the color of their skin or for any other physical feature that doesn’t fit a trendy social image, we cause irreparable damage not only to the other person, but also to ourselves and, by extension, our entire social system. 

The allegorical explanation of these Torah portions is quite different from their original meaning and intent. Sickness—understood since the dawn of awareness as a form of divine punishment—is given a new explanation: it is caused and spread by us through ignorance and malice.

© 2023 by Boaz D. Heilman

An Unforgiveable Sin: Shemini.23

 An Unforgiveable Sin: Shemini

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

April 11, 2023

Following a break from the weekly Torah readings for Passover (there were special readings for each day of the holiday), this week we continue with the narrative of the Dedication of the Tabernacle.

It is the eighth day of the ceremony (Shemini means “eighth” and the portion is comprised of chapters 9:1—11:47 in the book of Leviticus). As the portion commences, Moses and Aaron offer the first official sacrifice. Done precisely according to God’s instructions, they next bless the congregated people.  But then two of the sons, Nadav and Avihu, commit a fatal error. Without being commanded, they too offer a sacrifice, bringing what the Torah mysteriously calls a “strange fire” to the altar.

What happens next is terrifying. In the presence of their father and uncle and before the entire people, a fire emanates from God and consumes the two errant brothers.

The Torah does not explain what the “strange fire” was, leaving it up to our imagination—and to the interpretation of the Rabbis, who offer four possible reasons for this calamity: 1) Nadav and Avihu brought fire from the kitchen rather than the eternal flame; 2) they were inebriated; 3) they did not consult with one another; 4) their act was disrespectful to Moses and Aaron.

Unauthorized to offer sacrifice on their own, Nadav and Avihu took upon themselves greater power than they were given. No matter the motivation, this was either a far-reaching excess of zeal or, as the rabbis suggest, an actual rebellion.

The misuse of religion for power and personal glory is nothing new. Wars, terrorism, slavery and state-sanctioned religious institutions such as the Spanish Inquisition are all motivated by the same urge. Oppression and even extermination of entire peoples in the name of God are among the greatest evils committed in the name of religion and God. The story of Nadav and Avihu comes as a stern warning against this evil. 

Religion is there to inspire and offer hope; it encodes morality and ethics. Religion enables us to imagine what forces might be out there, controlling both nature and our own, often irrational, behavior. It can unite a people and help them endure and survive even the harshest conditions. It must not be used to oppress or persecute.

The message of Shemini is clear: Faith is powerful energy, holding within it the potential to create as well as to destroy. The Torah teaches that the improper use of this power is an unforgivable sin. 

© 2023 by Boaz D. Heilman

 

A Slice of Humble Pie: A Passover Message.23

 A Slice of Humble Pie: A Passover Message

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

April 3, 2023 

While scrolling through the news feed the other day, I was struck by a posting about a fashion mavenista who advertised that for a mere $10,000 (financeable over a year for only 999 a month) she would post a personal thank you on Instagram.

At first I was astonished by the sheer chutzpa of this proposition. Then I remembered that memorabilia signed by famous people is actually lucrative business. So mah nishtanah? Why should this be any different from all other scams?

Human beings have always been awe-struck by fame and famous people. We call celebrities “stars” and are willing to practically throw ourselves at their feet for the slightest bit of recognition. I would call it a weird symptom except that it isn’t rare and actually goes back probably as far as humankind itself.

Just imagine what an autographed copy of the Torah would fetch today! (And how fortunate that this does not exist!)

The Passover story, replete with miracles and wonders, is actually an important lesson in the difference between excessive pride and down-to-earth humility. As was the custom in ancient days, Pharaoh saw himself as the epitome of culture and civilization, the very representative of the gods among whom he saw himself as a legitimate equal. He expected not only to be immediately obeyed, but also to be worshipped!

Moses, on the other hand, was the exact opposite—he ran away from the trappings of power, preferring the simple and anonymous life of a desert shepherd over all the riches and glory of ancient Egypt.

Today when we think of Passover, we think of the Seder dinner that we share with family and friends. Despite the work involved, we enjoy creating various dishes that mask the absence of any flour, and we celebrate the fact that the entire meal is centered on the crumbly and dry matzah, accompanied by a bitter spread that burns our mouth and brings tears to our eyes. 

One of my favorite Seder traditions is eating matzah shmura, the large, thick, circular and practically charred matzahs that are prepared by hand, under strict supervision from field to oven, following the most rigorous rules and regulations of Jewish Law. The burnt flavor and coarse texture of this special matzah don’t so much a reflect my level of religious observance as they serve to remind me of my family’s history of despair and redemption during the Holocaust and in the years since then. Matzah shmura adds personal relevance to the overall experience of Passover. 

Jewish tradition actually gives three different meanings to the humble matzah.

The Passover Haggadah calling it lechem ‘oni, “bread of affliction,” meant to remind us of our suffering at the hand of Pharaoh thousands of years ago.

The Torah has another explanation, telling us that the origin of the matzah is in the hurried departure of the Israelites from Egypt, which left no time for the dough to rise. As we may infer from the Torah’s teaching, matzah stands for the hurry and haste of the life of ordinary people, always short on time and energy yet always prepared, at a moment’s notice, to respond to God’s call.

And yet another interpretation for the humble pie we call matzah may be found in the detailed instructions for the sacrifices that were offered at the Tabernacle in the Wilderness and, later, at the Temple in Jerusalem. These gifts of food often included unleavened bread, made with the barest ingredients—flour and water—and nothing else.

With that, the offering of unleavened bread gains additional meaning: It reminds us to remain humble, not to let “hot air” inflate our egos, not to see ourselves as rich and powerful rulers, but rather as unassuming servants of a higher authority. 

The Torah commands us to eat matzah for seven days (or eight, if we follow more strictly the rules of Halakha, Jewish law). And while for some this may be difficult or even impossible, even if we partake of it for only one night or one day, we must remember its lessons: First, it’s a reminder of the suffering we endured for so much of our history. Second, that we must always be prepared to heed and follow God’s call. And third—just because we sometimes are blinded by our overly inflated egos—that a piece of humble pie every once in a while serves us all well.

May the taste and message of the lowly matzah be sweet in our mouths this Passover, and may any tears of bitterness be transformed into joy and gladness for us all. A zissen Pesach—may this be a sweet and happy Passover for the whole community of Israel and for all who celebrate (or pray for) freedom and justice.

© 2023 by Boaz D. Heilman