Rockets, refuge and retribution

The following is the text of the sermon I will give tonight at B'nai Jehudah, in my position as Rabbinic Intern.

Each day I wake up and check my phone for the news from Israel. Is this the day I need to prepare myself for a friend’s passing? How many people died overnight? Was it someone I knew? I walk through my day in a daze, unable to give work 100% of my attention, instead filled with dread and knots in my stomach, knowing my home is under fire. I find myself looking for airline tickets. I am sick with worry.

The country which I love with my entire being is under attack. My people, my neighbors, my friends are being terrorized and simultaneously engaged in this military action. The escalation has increased significantly from the kidnapping and murder of three Israeli teenagers, Gilad Shaar, Naftali Frankel, and Eyal Yifrach, to a revenge killing of Muhammed Hussein Abu-Khadir, an Arab teen, to an all out invasion into Gaza. 30 Israeli soldiers have been killed in this battle. Hundreds of innocent Arabs have been killed. The anguish I feel is all-consuming. I am plagued by questions of what to do with the bloodshed, the pain, and death.

The questions are ever-present. Our tradition says that we shall not kill, that we should protect ourselves against murder. So then, what does it mean to defend? How long can Israel sit and be bombarded with bombs before she acts, knowing there will be collateral damage in the wake? What do we do when people take a situation into their own hands, not consulting a higher power or the laws of human engagement?

In searching for these answers, I realized that this week’s Torah portion deals with just these complex ideas. It defines what רצח, murder is, tells us how to handle the bloodshed that occurs. The parsha even goes so far as to delineate what encompasses a city of refuge, who can go there and why.

Anyone who takes a life sustains some sort of punishment. The parsha specifies, for instance, that only one who murders another intentionally should be punished by a blood-avenger, or a close family member who becomes a state-appointed agent. Only certain objects or means of killing count as 1st degree murder. In Numbers 35:21, the explanation is that “if [a man] pushed [someone] in hate or hurled something at him on purpose and death resulted,” the instigator can be put to death. That insinuates that those people throwing rockets at Gaza, and those doing so from Gaza into Israel deserve punishment.

I think to myself “that cannot be right.” The idea of killing members of the Israeli army for sending rockets into Gaza doesn’t seem like a good solution to me, but nor does allowing Hamas operatives who bombard Israel with rocket fire to continue to do so. Following orders cannot be punishable by death, can it? The parsha doesn’t suggest what to do when people are dying on both sides of the conflict. It doesn’t clarify how to support Israel, while your moral compass is telling you that innocent death is wrong. Nor does it give an option for what to do when the people firing the rockets are simply following orders, not the ones making the ultimate decisions.

We, as Jews, come from a place that maintains the importance of life above all else. That claim is being threatened by the idea of a real-life situation where lives will be lost on a daily basis, on both sides of the conflict. My heart says that Israel must support herself, despite the death count, but then I hear another voice saying that any death is still death. The question then becomes, not how do we define murder, but how do we maintain our morality in this sea of death?

The Torah, as any good teacher does, offers some kind of hope and solution to this moral dilemma. This hope comes in the form of cities of refuge, ערי המקלט. The purpose of a city of refuge is to offer asylum to one who has accidentally killed another individual and is worried for his own life. He can turn to one of these six cities of refuge and be given peace of mind that he is safe and protected as long as he is within the city limits. At the time when the tribe where the murder took place is ready to prosecute, the suspected killer is taken to court and brought to justice. This is our first of two positives offered by the cities: a person gains protection until a court steps in to judge. The second positive we glean is that time is offered to let minds and hearts not directly emotionally involved in the circumstances preside over the trial.

Yet, how does this relate to modern-day Israel. The word מקלט in Hebrew means shelter, specifically air raid shelter. This is where Israelis go every time they hear the air raid siren, marking another rocket being launched at them. Therefore, Israel has a few more than six ערי-מקלט, we have thousands. These shelters literally save lives. They serve their purpose, of housing people from the barrage around them and give them sanctuary for a few minutes. Although these shelters are not necessarily used to shelter suspected killers, we see that the refuge is still imperative.

Were we to consider these cities of refuge as actual cities again, we might still be able to imagine it in today’s escalating skirmish. I know intrinsically that there is not one individual that is firing these rockets into Gaza or into Israel. Rather, many people are responsible for each rocket being sent over the wall. Many of these people are likely the unintentional killers we hear about in our parsha. The intention of their commanders may be to kill, but they personally do not wish to kill anyone. That moral dilemma and conscience weighs strong. This is where the cities of refuge come in. Those who know they have taken innocent lives may search in vain for a way to rationalize what they have done or are currently doing. They are the ones who need the cities of refuge. They need a place to put distance between themselves and their actions, to be judged by an outside party with no revenge to be had.

The Torah delineates six rules of how exactly we go about the process of negotiating a legal decision when it comes to murder. This is supposed to be about what happens when one person commits murder, detailing how the murder should be avenged, or not avenged, and how to bring resolution to the initial conflict. However, we are not told what to do when multiple deaths occur and it is not one person doing the killing, but one people against another. Nor are we given the guidelines for what to do when there are chains of command, with a Commander telling his soldiers what to do, therefore potentially changing the onus from the person doing the action to the Commanding Officer.

Perhaps, when this war is over, a conclusive solution can be reached. The International Criminal Court of the United Nations, a supposedly unbiased body, might be able to try those in the upper echelons of both Hamas leadership and the Israeli military. I don’t want to see my brothers and sisters as killers, but nor do I want to see my neighbors as killers either. I lived and worked with Arabs. I ate lunch with them everyday. I shared gossip with them. They aren’t killers either. Many of them are my friends as well. I want to see retribution, so Israel maintains her right to exist, and so I don’t feel this moral dilemma of who is responsible for these deaths.

Yet right now, there is no solution. At least not one that will leave everyone happy and all parties feeling they have gotten what they ask for/deserve. Each party is currently grieving and feels they are in the right with regard to killings in this Operation. Each party wants to gain justice. But if both sides continue to pursue justice on their own, they will continue to bring death, hatred and pain to the world. 

Unfortunately, these six rules for what to do when homicide occur do not have a timeline attached to them. They do not say exactly when we should enact the process and how to carry it out. Especially during times of war when emotions are high and anger flies faster than the rockets in the sky.

For now, we must recognize that there is no easy solution. Yet, there can be a tempering of hate and anger, a conscious effort to fill the world with more love and peace. Although naive, the more love we bring into the world, the more we counter the hate around us. We must recognize that these laws of what to do with homicide were put down for us, as the Jewish people, to bring expiation. If we acknowledge that, we can cease to take life and death matters into our own hands.

How do we bring about this tempering of hate and anger? We must reach out to our Muslim neighbors, engaging them in conversation and friendship. We can give money to Israeli organizations like OneFamily and the Reform Movement in Israel (the IMPJ) who help make life in these places of refuge a little easier. We can write our Congressmen/woman, urging them to suggest respite for both Palestinian and Israeli children caught up in this struggle. We can and must make our voices heard.

This Shabbat, may we gain peace and and understanding with our brothers and sisters. May we merit to live in a place where rockets do not rain down and hatred is not the modus operandi. May this Shabbat bring us compassion and time to consider how we can bring betterment to our broken world.

Contracts, Contacts and Commandedness

This week’s parsha, called מטות, meaning tribes, is a difficult one. Found in Numbers 30:2-32:42, it comes at a time when the Torah isn’t necessarily engrossing, meaning we could easily pass it over and feel we hadn’t missed much. However, the beauty of Torah is that we don’t skip parshiot (Torah portions), just because we don’t find them the most enthralling. Rather, we find something in that portion that speaks to us and go from there. In fact, this idea, that there is always a takeaway, no matter how large or small, is helpful for us in life. When we are faced with a situation, even if we feel it will not end well or there is no purpose, we must attempt to find the good in that scenario.

Our parsha does still have meaningful takeaways. Before we discuss, however, let us get an overview, so at least we know what is being addressed. The parsha starts off talking about vows and obligations. First, we are told that when a man makes a vow or takes an obligation upon himself, he must uphold it. [The word vow, in Hebrew, נדר, neder, is the same word in the name for the service that begins the evening of Yom Kippur, כל נדרי, Kol Nidre. This specific reading is discussing our nullification of vows for the coming year, our forgiveness of lost vows in the past year. We do this, because as Jews, we recognize how important our vows are, and therefore treat them as holy entities. The foundation for these vows comes from this week’s parsha.] The other vows discussed are the ones a woman makes, either in her father’s or husband’s home. As women were either property of their husband or father, this covers almost all circumstances. Once a woman makes a vow, whether in her father’s or husband’s house, she must uphold it. However, her husband or father has the final say. If the man doesn’t say anything about the vow, the woman keeps it; if the man disallows the vow, than the vow is nullified and she is free from sin before God.

Then, the people are commanded by God (via Moses) to fight the Midianites. Moses tells them to take 1000 soldiers from each tribe, and go attack. We don’t hear of the battle, just that every male from among the Midianites is killed. The fighters bring back spoils, the women, and children. Those women who have “known” a Midianite man are to be put to death, as are all of the male children. Everyone and everything else goes to the people, split up so that those who fought get a greater percentage of the spoils.

The last part of the parsha discusses how 2.5 of the 12 tribes don’t want to enter the land of Egypt. They ask Moses if they can stay in Transjordan, and he is appalled. These people have wandered with the Israelites for 40 years and now don’t want part of the land of Israel? Even more so, they aren’t willing to fight for the land that God has promised them. When Moses addresses them with this issue, they clarify and suggest that they just want to take advantage of the good land that they have already seen. These people, of the tribes of Gad and Reuben, and half of Manasseh, have no intention of dismissing the rest of their people. Rather, they want to set up a community and let their cattle stay in Transjordan, at which point they will send soldiers into Israel and help the rest of the Israelites fight off the opposing peoples there in the land. That settled, Moses concedes.

First of all, Moses’s immediate distrust of these 2.5 tribes is jarring. Yes, Moses has spent the past 40 years leading these people through the desert and working tirelessly to get them where they need to go (Israel), but he should also have grown to trust them as well. Yet, as much as these tribes may want to make decisions for themselves, they must have an awareness of the people around them. If that is the case, they would and should be conscientious of those around them and their expectations moving forward.

Due to this, we must look at Moses’ actions more closely. But first, we must understand that Moses is under a lot of pressure. He has been charged with leading the Israelites into the land of Israel, while simultaneously knowing he himself will not gain entrance. Not only that, he must continue to teach his predecessor, Joshua, and guide him for assumption of the role of leader. Why does he mistrust these tribes and their desire to stay in Transjordan? Why is it such a big deal that they might not enter to fight in Israel? Is there something about the twelve tribes presenting a united front?

Moses’ first comment to the Gadites and the Reubenites, in Numbers 32:7 is to ask “why will you turn the minds of the Israelites from crossing into the land that the Eternal has given you?” He doesn’t trust the two groups of people to just stay in Transjordan themselves. Rather, Moses believes that they will take other people or whole tribes with them, meaning he must be very cautious. Because of this, Moses reminds them that this is exactly the same behavior that their fathers exhibited when sent to survey the land in Numbers 13 and 14. They turned their backs on the land and then subsequently turned the minds of the rest of the Israelites.

In addition, Moses sees the motives of the Reubenites and the Gadites as what they truly are: purely economic in nature, says Isaac Arama, writing in the 15th century. He continues on that Moses therefore does not apologize for what might be seen as over-reacting because he didn’t. Fearful for the future of the Jewish people, Moses must consider everyone in his decisions, not just these particular tribes. He is aware that these tribes have a share in the land and must not forsake it. The love of the land and the material possessions associated with it took hold of the Reubenites and the Gadites, making them forget their obligation to the people.

However, they do not forget this obligation. Once reminded that they will “bring calamity upon all the people” if they turn away from God again (Num 32:15), they stepped forward and took responsibility for their actions, making an oath to help the rest of the people going to settle the land of Israel. Of course, the Torah would not be Torah without a few more curveballs. When the people, in the next verse, recognize what Moses is saying, they say they will build pens for their sheep and towns for their children. Midrash (Numbers Rabbah 22:9) suggests that by putting their cattle before their children, they will not find blessing from their wealth. Therefore, we see that these tribes will still suffer from settling in Transjordan, because they put such emphasis on their material goods!

In the end, this oath swearing and Moses’ repetition of the oath (Moses repeats the oath back to the two tribes, changing it slightly to invoke the name of God and adding a conditional statement (see Numbers 32:22-23)), demonstrate to the reader the idea of conditional contracts. Halacha felt this was very important and made sure to include aspects of it in the Shulchan Aruch, posited by Rabbi Meir.  This sets up four conditions that must be upheld in order to make the contract valid. These conditions are: 1) it must be stated twice as both a positive and negative, 2) the positive must come first, 3) the condition, the “if,” must come before the consequence, the “what” and 4) the condition must be fulfillable. This being used as the foundational circumstance that brought about conditional statements, we see just how important this situation was. Although it needed to be handled tenderly, it was eventually resolved and brought to light, with both parties satisfied with the conclusion.

In many ways, this is just another example of how Moses serves as leader to the people, channeling God and attempting to do the best he can with the time and circumstances he has. He demonstrates that he must treat everyone and every situation objectively, while also looking at the greater picture of where he is and what needs to happen for the success of the Jewish people.  We see that Moses knows how important the land of Israel is and ensures that some selfish behavior does not cause the entire people to lose this birthright. Moses serves as a valiant leader, as a conduit for God, and handles this situation with fairness and equanimity.

May our Shabbat too be filled with a sense of fairness, where we understand the greater circumstances around us, while we simultaneously take time to deal with each individual situation we face. May we be strong and persuasive leaders like Moses, knowing what is right and what is important.

Pinchas and Protective Edge

This week's parsha, Pinchas, BaMidbar 25:10-30:1 is an odd one. It doesn't stand out as much as last week's (Parshat Balak), but it has a seemingly strange conglomeration of events and laws that occur or are prescribed to the Jewish people. We are first faced with the end of the story that ended last week's parsha: the Israelite men cohabiting with Moabite/Midianite women. Pinchas is named as the one who kills the Israelite Zimri and his Midianite woman, Cozbi. For his service, God tells Pinchas that he will always have a part of the covenant and the priesthood, because he acted for God, was jealous for God and atoned for the people.

Next comes the census. After forty years of wandering in the desert, Moses wants to know who is with him and to which tribe they ascribe. He needs the count of all men over the age of twenty in order to know how to distribute the land once the people get into the land of Israel. He counts out all the people, and when the results are compared to the first census, the numbers are pretty similar. The census may actually be a foreshadowing to what will happen next in the parsha (after a short break for women's inheritance rights), with Moses being told he will die, asking for a predecessor and having Joshua appointed. Joshua is appointed איש אשר-רוח בו, because there is spirit in him (Numbers 27:18). He is charged with the responsibility, but more importantly, he is charged with leadership. He must lead the people, them following him wherever he goes.

However, the intervening story is an incredible one of women's rights, not often espoused in our Torah. We hear the daughters of Zelophahad asking for land inheritance, even though they are not sons and therefore would not normally be given inheritance (at this time, land was passed on patrilineally). God takes their plea and sets down the laws of inheritance, making land go first to a son, then to a daughter, then to the man's brother and continuing. Women get something in the end!

Lastly, we are given the laws for sacrifices, moving from daily sacrifices, toward the one for Shabbat, for Rosh Hodesh, and then for the חגים, the holidays. We are told how many of each animal to sacrifice, with what to do the sacrifice, and when in particular on that holidays. The holidays are given in order, starting with Passover.

This week, I am struck by a parallel between the census and Joshua's appointment as leader, and the current situation in Israel, named in English, Operation Protective Edge. Getting updates on my phone every time there is a siren in Israel, I am constantly bombarded with these news flashes. Each one makes the knot grow a little tighter in my stomach. I am homesick. I am desperate. I want to be back in Israel. A mentor asked why I didn't just hop on a plane, go back there. I responded that I have responsibilities, a job, things I cannot simply abandon. She suggested that if it's that important, the people will understand. In the end, I felt that as much as I have a responsibility to Israel, I also have a responsibility to things to which I have already committed myself. Yet I still find myself daily checking prices for flights to Tel Aviv.

How does that connect to the census and to Joshua. The census was taken as the people stood on the brink of entrance to the holy land. They were preparing to go in, to take their place in a land that had been their carrot, their promise for over forty years. There is no question that they knew it would not be easy or perfect, but they were going into the land. The census is our indication that this is real. Israel today also does a census, taking account of who lives within her borders and where they are. Yet, Israel must also must take into consideration the people living within her at-on-time borders, in Gaza, those who now attack her in hatred. Although not the same thing, we also needed to firmly determine who was part of the Israelite people, and who was not. That would be the indication for Joshua as to who he would take into the land.

Our census from entering the land and our census statistics from this past Israeli Independence Day are hugely different in number, and are not recorded according to tribe. But the census is a gathering of the people, forcing them to come together and share in their common identity. These past few days, we have been forced to come together as a Jewish people, to acknowledge that despite differences, we are one people and must rally behind whatever decisions our Israeli leaders make. Joshua and Moses both made unpopular decisions, but they had to be carried out. So too, must we continue to stand with Israel, understanding that we may not always agree with the decisions promulgated from the top, but that she and her citizens need our support and our prayers.

This Shabbat, as we prepare to read the counting of the people, may we also count our blessings. No matter where we are in the world. we have blessings, however big or small, and we must acknowledge them if we are to bring more love and peace into the world. May this Shabbat bring quiet to those around the world, and a calm to those who need it. May it be God's will. Amen.

Balaam's Ass

Rabbis called these chapters the "section of Balaam," determining that this was written at a different time from the rest of Numbers, or at least penned by another author. These chapters are in fact independent of the greater story of Numbers and therefore likely later inserted into the story. Why here? Why this story; that I am not sure of. The one connecting detail is that in both the preceding and continuing chapters, the Israelites are also camping at the border of Moab.

Summary: Balak, king of Moab, hires gentile soothsayer, Balaam to curse Israel. Balaam cannot do anything without God's permission, and tells Balak's messengers this news. However, after two rounds of messengers request Balaam's presence, God relents and permits Balaam to go. According the Ramban, God allows Balaam to go because God wants to show the gentile nations that even their own prophet has to bless God's chosen people. However, on the way, Balaam encounters a talking donkey. We'll return to that. Once this personification incident passes, Balaam and Balak go to curse the Israelites. This requires building seven altars and then sacrificing 7 each of bullock and rams, one on each altar. Once that occurs, Balaam opens his mouth and out come what is known in Torah as the four oracles. These 4 oracles each tell of the splendor of the people of Israel, how large they will be as a people and that those who curse the Jews will be cursed in return. The last oracle actually tells of the demise of the very same people who are trying to curse the Jews, the Moabites, at the hands of the Israelites. The curse backfires! Balaam is a prophet, speaking directly to God and telling the future of the Jewish people. The only occasion, I believe, where a non-Jew prophesies for Jews.

Now, back to the talking donkey. Interestingly enough, it makes one think of Shrek and the annoying talking Donkey. In fact, if I were in Balaam's shoes, I might also be deeply incensed by my donkey's lack of appropriate listening and action! However, what is interesting about this part of the parsha is that the donkey doesn't a) just start talking and b) start talking for no reason. First, he encounters an angel of God blocking his way on the road towards Moab, standing there with a sword drawn. He's terrified, so he balks. Balaam cannot see the angel, beats his donkey and tells him to get a move on. However, the angel is not so easily deterred. Now that Balaam and his donkey have turned from the regular path, the angel is positioned so there is no way forward, making the donkey squeeze up against one of the fences to the side. The donkey attempts to get by, squishing Balaam's foot in the process and therefore receives another beating. The third time, there is no way to get by, so the donkey promptly lies down where he is and endures a third beating. Only then does the donkey talk. Three beatings, and the donkey is silent (why couldn't God have showed a little more humanity for the poor creature!). Balaam, to his credit, doesn't seem surprised by his donkey's newfound ability to talk, and berates the donkey thoroughly for the mockery he has made of Balaam. The donkey, again, stays cool under pressure and reminds Balaam that he is the same donkey Balaam has risen all along, where he has never been in the habit of behaving such.

Finally, Balaam has his eyes "uncovered" and sees the angel of God, who chastises and reprimands him for his reprehensible actions. Numbers Rabbah teaches that Balaam is able to converse with God whenever and wherever pleases him, "...with eyes unveiled" (24:4), clearly able to look at God, which is in contrast to the need for Balaam to have his eyes uncovered. That Balaam is able to look at God and converse with God, yet here, Balaam is unable to see the Holy God, strikes one as odd. This momentary blindness seems to come from Balaam's decision to do wrong, despite knowing that is against God's wishes. The way we see this anger is in the juxtaposition of the sword of the angel with Balaam's desire for a sword (which he would have been able to take from the angel if he were not blinded); as well as God being angry at Balaam in contrast to Balaam's anger with his ass. We can see these parallels as representative of how we too can connect to the world, that sometimes we are so deeply entrenched in our own world and ideas, that we cannot see that were we just to step outside of a situation, we might find peace and/or resolution.

The angel, considered an angel of God, is indeed angry with Balaam, sent to him to make him consider his next moves. The angel tells him, "כי עתה גם-אתכה הרגתי ואותה החייתי,"for you are the one I should have killed [for you were the one acting so atrociously], sparing the donkey (Numbers 22:33). The angel is appalled by Balaam's actions towards his donkey, even though the angel initially appeared out of anger that Balaam intended to go to Moab to curse the Israelites. We recognize this because Balaam didn't tell the messengers of Moab the second time around that he needed to speak God's word; he gave them the impression that he would indeed curse the Israelites (Ramban). Balaam, recognizing the magnitude of the situation and that he has acted displeasingly to God, apologizes and tells the angel that he will turn back if his continued action is still not acceptable. However, the angel tells him to continue on, but only say what God commands him.

Why does this angel not initially speak directly to Balaam? Even more strange, why is God angry with Balaam for continuing a journey that God permitted? And lastly, who is this angel, what is the connection between the angel and God? Balaam has already spoken with God multiple times, developing a relationship with him. There doesn't seem to be a need for the talking donkey as well, except maybe for comic relief. Why then? One reason the rabbis give is that Balaam had actually changed his mind and was intending to go against God and curse the Jewish people. Therefore, after God had already given Balaam permission to proceed with the mission, God sends an emissary to pass on his dismay. This emissary cannot speak directly to Balaam right away, must first test him and see just how much he has strayed since the previous night when he received God's blessing. Clearly, Balaam is not as clear-headed and ready for this mission as he was the night before. Something has shifted within him. Indeed, Balaam, who desires to use his words to curse the people, cannot control his own donkey, demonstrating to the angel that there is something amiss here (despite the angel being the adversary in Balaam's way).

The angel is an interesting figure in this story. We get an angel, called שטן, translated as adversary or one who opposes, which adequately describes the situation here. Yet, it doesn't hold up. This adversary seems contrary to God's own words previously. This angel seems to be a free agent, testing Balaam despite God not asking for such action. Yet, the Rabbis had their own thoughts on this issue, marrying this satan figure with the rest of the parsha, as well as a Jewish belief in God. During the time of the Persians, there was this way of approaching God that saw God as sitting on a throne, surrounded by minions, his angels, who went out and did his bidding. This creature, actually השטן, the satan, is the instigator, the adversary, making sure that people are on the right path. When we consider our adversary in that light, the angel makes much more sense and we are able to instead see him as a potential foil for Balaam (until Balaam proves his worth with apology). This idea may also make more sense in the greater scheme of the Torah. If we follow the assumption that this particular parsha was written later, the Persian idea of God could easily have been slipped into this pentatuch.

From this idea of the angel as adversary, whether or not sent by God, we learn to recognize that we always have adversaries in our lives, either people or events that challenge us, stop us from continuing down a certain path. Although we may know the path and be heading down it for the right reasons, we do not always think fully to the end step of our actions. This encounter Balaam faces with the angel is that extra step in the thought process, the extra aspect of reasoning that forces us to move beyond "I'm doing this," to contemplate, "what might the consequences of my particular actions be if I go forward with this." We are simply invited and given the opportunity to take a step out of our crowded head space and let in another voice, of reason, caution, concern.

We must always acknowledge that voice and allow it to find volume. That adversary may not actually show up in our lives, but we are able to be our own adversaries, simply holding ourselves back until we are fully aware of our activities going forward. This Shabbat, may we take the time to pause before we act, holding ourselves accountable for our actions and not be blinded like Balaam. And may we strive to serve others, but kindly, and consider them as we move about our days. Shabbat Shalom.