Arguments That Destroy, Arguments That Heal: Korach.23

Arguments That Destroy, Arguments That Heal

D’var Torah for Parashat Korach

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

June 21, 2023

 

The image of the earth opening up to swallow the rebel Korach and his followers is well represented in art and the movies. It’s a powerful visual—and a forceful message to anyone who might think of standing up against religious leaders and institutions.

The story of this week’s Torah portion (Korach, Numbers 16:1—18:32) may also be familiar: Korach is a powerful member of the Kohathite clan, the highest ranked among the Levites, second only to the priests. Sensing dissatisfaction among the people, Korach challenges Moses and enlists enough support to instigate an open rebellion. His argument, however, shows cynical manipulation. If, as Moses suggests, all Israelites are holy, then what makes Moses more so than anyone else?

This argument, which Korach makes in the presence of the entire community and with a large armed cadre backing him up, is understood by Moses as questioning God’s will. The predictable and terrifying outcome does not lag far behind. 

While some may see this story as a stark warning for anyone who might disagree with a religious leader, belief or institute, the early rabbis draw another conclusion from it. In the Mishna’s tractate Pirkei Avot—the Ethics of the Fathers—they contrast Korach’s dispute with that of the early first-century rabbis Hillel and Shammai: “Every dispute that is for the sake of Heaven, will in the end endure [be of lasting value]. But one that is not for the sake of Heaven, will not endure. Which is the controversy that is for the sake of Heaven? Such was the controversy of Hillel and Shammai. And which is the controversy that is not for the sake of Heaven? Such was the controversy of Korach and all his congregation” (Pirkei Avot 5:17).

The vast body of literature that derives from this teaching is summarized by the Rav Kook (1865-1935), the first Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi of British Mandatory Palestine. The Rav explained that any body of learning is best understood only when it complements or completes another. In other words, the whole is made up of all of its parts. When one piece, one voice or opinion is missing, there is no completion—sh’leimut—and no peace—shalom.

Even though the Talmud recounts many arguments between students of Hillel and Shammai, ultimately these discussions in themselves serve as the model for all subsequent Jewish learning. One could say that the truth of the Torah’s teachings can best be perceived through discussion and debate, not by declaration—no matter how sharp or incisive—of one voice alone.

Korach’s argument was not about the meaning of this verse or another. He did not try to illuminate some difficult passage or shed light on the relationship between God and Israel. He was in it for power and authority. His, and his alone.

Korach’s style of arguing is evident when individuals or groups attack, slander or insult others. It is harmful and destructive to all society. The controversies between Hillel and Shammai, on the other hand, were part of a long-lasting relationship of camaraderie and even affection between the two great rabbis. Together they established a unique process of thinking and deliberating—respectful, civil and considerate—a system by which Halakha, Jewish Law, is still resolved to this day. 

Today, we all could benefit from this type of debate in everyday social and political discourse. We’ve been seeing way too much of the other, the way of Korach and his fellow conspirators. 

For the sake of sh’leimut and shalom, creating a better society is in our hands. In fact, it’s our responsibility.

 

© 2023 by Boaz D. Heilman

Putting God’s Word to the Test: Sh’lach L’cha.23

Putting God’s Word to the Test: Sh’lach L’cha

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

June 14, 2023

The Torah’s preferred method of teaching seems to be trial and error: God sets up a test for individuals or nations to see how they might react. The ones who are tested invariably fail (only Abraham passes successfully all 10 tests). The lesson then follows: Now here’s the right way to do it!

As they wander in the Sinai Wilderness, the Israelites are tested time and again, and the lessons never fail to follow. In this week’s Torah portion, however (Sh’lach L’cha, “Send for yourself,” Numbers 13:1—15:41), the stakes are much higher. It isn’t only the Israelites who are tested. So is God, and it is Moses who sets up this trial.

The instruction given by God for Moses to send spies to scout the Promised Land recalls God’s command to Abraham: Lech L’cha, “Go for yourself.” In both cases, the way the command is phrased, freedom of choice is given. Go if you will; send if you will. The choice is yours. There are no further instructions. Let the outcome be what it may.

Abraham, as noted, does not fail. On the other hand, the twelve spies that Moses sends out come back with mixed results. Returning forty days later, they all report positively on the richness of the land. However, they also claim seeing giants there, occupying impenetrable fortresses and armed to the teeth. Only two of the twelve—Joshua and Caleb—remind the Israelites that with God’s help, they can overcome every obstacle and will ultimately conquer the land. 

The overall negative report instills fear and hopelessness among the people. The Israelites—as expected— gripe and demand immediate return to Egypt. In the popular uprising that follows, Moses and Aaron are very nearly killed by the angry mob.

God—also as expected—is enraged and threatens to annihilate the entire Israelite nation. 

It’s at this point that Moses sets up the test for God. Quoting God’s vow to be more compassionate and forgiving, a promise made following the incident of the Golden Calf, Moses gives God the choice to be true to this vow or renege on it. 

In the past, Moses had cajoled God; he pleads with God, he even suggests that, should God decide to eradicate the Jewish nation, other nations might perceive God as weak and incapable of fulfilling His own promises. But this time Moses does something different and even more daring. In an astonishing display of chutzpah, Moses establishes an equivalence of sorts: You give us the freedom to make our own choices—we reciprocate. We give you the same freedom. Go ahead, back out, smite us if You will. Let whatever happens, happen.

And, amazingly, God relents. “I forgive as you have requested,” God responds (Num. 14:20).

The lesson here is for all of us: God’s promise is eternal. God does not go back on God’s word.

Without a doubt, there will always be consequences to our choices. But in the end, assuming we repent, God forgives. In the story of Sh’lach L’cha, the consequences are that the Israelites will be wanderers in the wilderness for forty years, one year for each day that the spies were out scouting the Land. Additionally, none of those who were alive at that moment—except for the two spies whose faith remained intact—would enter the Promised Land. Only those born in freedom, those who never known slavery, hopelessness or despair, will earn that right.

The Torah is a book of lessons, not only for us but also for God. The Torah is, after all, also a sacred Covenant, a listing of obligations and expectations that have the potential to raise and redeem people, but which also restrain God’s infinite power to punish and destroy. All are held accountable to their word.

© 2023 by Boaz D. Heilman

Rigidity and Flexibility in the Service of God: Beha’alotecha.23

Rigidity and Flexibility in the Service of God: Beha’alotecha

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

June 7, 2023

In this week’s Torah portion, Beha’alotecha (“When you kindle,” Numbers 8:1—12:16), the Israelites continue their wanderings through the wilderness. But despite Moses’s best efforts to bring harmony and order to the new nation, human emotions create havoc time and again. Underneath Moses’s vision of perfection, even with every tribe in place and every individual accounted for, dissatisfaction and frustration appear and grow into schisms and even open rebellion.

Sick of manna—the perfect food that miraculously appears for them every morning—the Israelites develop a craving for meat, whining (yet again) that things were better in Egypt. Burdened to exhaustion by their impossible demands, Moses complains to God, who tells him to gather seventy elders to help him in his tasks. “Bring them to the Tent of Meeting… and I shall draw upon the spirit that is on you and put it upon them” (Num 11:17 NIV). Despite Moses’s instructions, two of the seventy remain in their tents, but God’s spirit finds them even there and they, like the other chosen elders, begin to prophesy.

Moses’s attendant, thinking that a rebellion is brewing, urges Moses to arrest the two. But Moses responds with one of the most exalted visions he has for the newborn nation: “Are you zealous for my sake? Oh, that all the Lord’s people were prophets and that Lord would put His Spirit upon them!” (Num. 11:29, NKJV).

Nonetheless, a devastating fire breaks out as the result of the people complaining.

Later that night, however, a huge flock of quail descends on the campsite, and the people’s demands are finally met. Yet even then, their lust overcomes them, and they resort to devouring the meat even before it is cooked. Again God’s punishment is quick to follow. 

Even Miriam, Moses’s sister, suffers a moral downfall, chastising Moses “because of his Cushite wife,” Num. 12:1). This disgraceful display of racism results in Miriam being afflicted with skin disease, from which she is cured only after Moses pleads with God to restore her health.

There are many lessons to be drawn from these disturbing incidents. Both God and the Israelites need to work on their relationship! God’s famous anger tends to erupt too quickly, but then so do the Israelites’ passions. With this as an emerging pattern, the path to the Promised Land is going to be a long road!

Yet even God and Moses learn to yield every once in a while. In the section where the strict Passover rules are reiterated, a question arises: What if a person is incapable of following the rules precisely as dictated? What if someone is sick, or on a lengthy journey? Must they be “cut off” from their people? Is there no flexibility? 

The answer that Moses gives sets a precedent: in some cases, the rules may be eased. A late celebration is permitted. Rules are important, yet in order to work best, they also need to be flexible. 

That will be the task that Moses will set before the 70 chosen elders: setting the rules and yet making them flexible enough to meet the needs of as many people as possible. 

It’s a pattern that still holds to this day.

© 2023 by Boaz D. Heilman

A Trial in Pittsburgh: A Turning Point for American Jews

A Trial in Pittsburgh: A Turning Point for American Jews

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

June 2, 2023

Four and a half years ago, on Shabbat morning Oct. 27, 2018, an armed man walked into the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh and opened fire, killing 11 worshippers: Joyce Fienberg, age 75; Richard Gottfried, 65; Rose Mallinger, 97. Jerry Rabinowitz, 66; brothers Cecil and David Rosenthal, 59 and 54 respectively; husband and wife Sylvan and Bernice Simon, 86 and 84; Daniel Stein, 71; Melvin Wax, 88; and Irving Younger, 69 years of age. May the memory of each and every one of them be a blessing. 

The murderer has been charged with 63 federal crimes, including 11 counts of obstruction of free religious exercise resulting in death, and 11 counts of hate crimes resulting in death, legalese jargon meant to disguise the fact that this was the worst anti-Semitic attack in American history.

And perhaps that’s one of the purposes of justice in America—to obstruct the connection between a crime and its emotional impact and weigh every case in simple terms of right and wrong, guilt and innocence.

In the case of the Tree of Life Massacre, however, nothing is as simple as it seems. To begin with, the guilt of the killer has never been in doubt. No one disputes that he pulled the trigger. Rather, what the defense hopes to prove is that his actions were not the result of religious hatred per se, but rather the result of a deranged mind. Just another senseless mass killing in a country that is becoming numb to violence and hatred.

But this crime wasn’t senseless, and that’s one reason why this trial is so important. An attack on a synagogue on a Shabbat morning is never accidental. Its motivation cannot be anything but anti-Semitism, the longest and most violent hatred in human history, now re-emerging in America. 

Three days ago, four and a half years after the massacre, the trial finally opened. 

One reason for this long stretch of time has been the COVID pandemic, which put a near-halt to almost all court cases. Another reason has been a lengthy wrangling over the death penalty, which the prosecution seeks. 

Yet without a doubt, one of the main reasons for the delay has been the defense attorney’s goal to let time intervene, “to get distance between the event and the trial in the hopes that the impact of the event will have somewhat dissipated.”  While, in itself, this is indeed one of the paths Justice must take—to take the emotions out of the picture and examine the facts as objectively as possible—for many of us this is impossible.

For me, at least, anti-Semitism isn’t history. Though not a direct victim, I grew up with intimate knowledge of the Holocaust. There isn’t a day in my life that I can recall when its horrors and pain were not a factor in my consciousness. No amount of time will separate my emotions from any act of anti-Semitism, least of all one so horrendous as the Tree of Life Synagogue shooting.

In the opening statement, Prosecutor Soo Song pointed to the arsenal with which the murderer arrived at the Tree of Life Synagogue: Three Glocks and an AR-15. His goal, stated Song, was to “destroy, to kill and defile.” As she described for the jury the killing of each victim, “the defendant betrayed no emotion but some family members of the victims began to weep.”  It's clear that for many, the pain is still as intense today as it was four and a half years ago.

In the opening arguments for the defense, lawyer Judy Clarke acknowledged that her client was the shooter. However, she claimed that his motive was not specifically anti-Semitism, but rather his belief that he was acting to stop HIAS—the Hebrew Aid Society, a Jewish-American nonprofit organization that provides humanitarian aid and assistance to refugees. In the mind of the killer, argued Ms. Clarke, the refugees were hostile “invaders.” In other words, he was defending what he saw as his country from those who wished to harm and destroy it. 

In this line of argument, what’s on trial in this case is the killer’s misguided patriotism, not his hatred for Jews, despite the fact that that he posted these precise thoughts and opinions on several white supremacist websites.

Anti-Semitism may not be the killer’s only hatred, but it is the one that led him to a synagogue full of Jewish worshippers on a Sabbath morning. This is not the working of some deranged mind. His act was calculated and reasoned out.

The synagogue attack four and a half years ago has led to many changes in our lives. There’s hardly a temple, Federation or any other Jewish institution anywhere in the United States today that hasn’t hired security personnel and held safety training for its members and employees. After 9/11, a national organization, Secure Community Network, was created by the Jewish Federations of North America. This organization has grown exponentially over the past five years, expanding most rapidly especially after the Pittsburgh shooting.  

What we are seeing today is a new mentality among the Jewish community. For the last hundred years, Jews have been reevaluating our place in history and our legitimate rights as human beings and as a people. Discrimination in western Europe and pogroms in eastern Europe led to the creation of self-defense groups and eventually to the creation of the State of Israel and the Israel Defense Force. 

In America, perhaps out of the fear of rocking the boat, perhaps out of our hopeful but unrealistic perception that anti-Semitism was a thing of the past, we’ve mainly kept silent.

As American Jews, our main recourse today is the judicial system. The trial that just opened in Pittsburgh must be seen as a turning point, a wake-up call, a benchmark by which anti-Semitism in America will be judged from this point on. 

The world as a whole is looking at Pittsburgh to see what America’s reaction to this violent hatred will be. For the Jewish American community, the massacre serves to remind us that we must never—never! —let down our guard.

Terror will never stop us. If anything, this reminder of the reality of our existence may motivate us to dig deeper into our roots and legacy, to acknowledge with greater pride our cultural and religious identity; never to cringe in fear, but rather always to stand up in defense of our human and civil rights.

Four and a half years ago, on Shabbat morning Oct. 27, 2018, the lives of 11 men and women were taken from them because they were Jewish. May their memories be the building blocks on which a new world arises—a world in which hatred and violence are not tolerated—not against Jews, not against Blacks, not against refugees from war-torn and impoverished countries, or against any other minority.

This is my prayer.

© 2023 by Boaz D. Heilman

Crimes of Passion and Indulgence: Naso.23

 

Crimes of Passion and Indulgence

D’var Torah for Naso

By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

May 30, 2023

As the Torah continues assigning roles for different clans and tribes, it also recognizes that not everyone is going to be happy with their given position. We are not cogs in a machine; we are unique human beings, each with different abilities and talents; we have different likes and dislikes. We are given to emotions and passions.

Naso (“Count Up,” Numbers 4:21—7:89) is the longest portion in the Torah. The entirety of chapter 7 is a complete listing of the contributions that each tribal leader brought to the Tabernacle, 35 gifts each, all exactly the same, all necessary for safeguarding the Tabernacle. This unanimity had a purpose—to illustrate the harmony and equality between all the tribes, regardless of their size or social status. Yet beneath it all lie discords brought about by our very humanity. 

The two extreme emotions this portion warns against are religious zeal and romantic passion. How well we know that these, more than any other, have the potential to spill over and become violent! The laws surrounding each of these cases are therefore numerous and complex. In each instance, the individual concerned is subject to regulations whose purpose is to take any action out of his hands and transfer resolution to a court of judges and/or priests.

The nazirite is a person who devotes his entire life—or any portion of it—to the fulfillment of a fervent vow made to God. He is made easily recognizable by his unshorn hair and abstinence from wine or any other fermented drink—in fact, even from grapes and raisins. Like priests, a nazirite is not permitted to show any outward sign of mourning, even for close relatives. His return to normal society and behavior is marked by a celebration and several sacrifice offerings. Though faith serves an important role in our individual and societal well-being, religious zealotry is still the cause of too much hatred and violence, and a return to moderate behavior is indeed cause for celebration.

More complicated is the case of the sotah—the wayward or unfaithful woman. (Even though acts of sexual violence are not committed exclusively by men, the vast majority are, with one theoretical reason being inborn tendencies of male aggression.) Tragically, in many of these so-called “crimes of passion” evidence is rarely necessary, suspicion is sufficient. In Naso we find some of the earliest—if not the very first—laws that attempt to put a stop to these acts of jealousy and violence. The Torah commands that a woman suspected of being sotah must be referred to a court of priests whose duty it is to administer a sordid ritual meant to prove her guilt or innocence. While degrading and frightening, this ritual is designed to prove the woman’s virtue—and at any rate, its primary purpose is to take the entire matter out of the violent partner’s hands. 

Our passions are part of our humanity, but when carried to extremes, they become dangerous to ourselves and others. It is precisely because we cannot always control them that the Torah imposes strict checks and regulations. To our modern sensibilities these rules may seem archaic, but in reality their purpose—saving a life—was, and still is, crucial.

Finally, Naso contains the Priestly Benediction (Num. 6:24-26). Recognizing the diversity of humanity and each individual’s unique modes of thought and behavior, Moses sets before us an ideal vision in which each person’s contributions become part of a multi-layered tapestry. Some gifts may stand out for brilliance and intensity, but never so much so that they cause others to lose luster or disappear entirely. 

It is through both wisdom and discipline that society endures.

© 2023 by Boaz D. Heilman