You Read About Samson, All From His Birth; He Was The Strongest Man Who Ever Lived On Earth (Traditional)

          Earlier this week, June 6th, was the 78th anniversary of the Allied invasion of Normandy, otherwise known as  D-Day. On June 6th, 1944, Canadian, American, British, Australian, and other allied forces, crossed the English Channel, established a beach head on the several beaches on the French coast around Normandie, and began a 10-month bloody arduous journey that led to the surrender of Nazi Germany and the end of WWII in Europe. In the years and decades that followed, it has often been suggested that these men saved the world from Hitler’s 1000 Year Reich. Those that died on the beaches of Normandie, those that died on the roads that ultimately led to Berlin, and those that survived those 10 months of fighting and made their way back home all engaged in something heroic. Those allied forces participated in something extraordinary, and, indeed, that makes them all heroes.  However, these heroes who saved the world were not perfect souls, without flaws,  with negative or even destructive human qualities. 

          This week's Parsha is Naso. It covers a variety of topics. First, we read that once again, God commands Moshe to count. This time Moshe takes a census of the families in the tribe of Levi. Each family has a very specific role concerning the maintenance of the Mishkan (the Tabernacle). After the census, we are reminded that anyone in contact with a corpse is considered impure and must be removed from the camp for a period of time. We are also told that besides capital punishment, certain crimes toward members of the community are punishable by fines. We read about Sotah, the bitter waters a woman accused of adultery must drink. If she survives the ordeal, then she is innocent. On the day the tabernacle was finally completed, each leader of each of the twelve tribes brought gifts. Each day, a different tribe brought these gifts.

          Before the twelve tribes bring their respective offerings, we read about those individuals who, if they so choose, can take upon themselves vows of abstinence. They are called Nazarites, and, indeed, they “volunteer” for a type of “spiritual heroism”.  In the Haftarah for Parsha Naso, we read about the birth of the most famous Nazir, Samson. However, as “spiritual heroic” as the Nazir might be; the vow of abstinence consists of no wine, no grapes, no haircut, and no contact with the dead (including parents and siblings). The Nazir puts himself in a circumstance where he tests his “spiritual strength”.  His abstinence is a vow of purity; he shall not have any contact with death. "All the days of his abstinence he is holy to God." (Num. 6:8). Interestingly, enough, the minimum time frame of this vow is only 30 days. That is all it takes to be considered heroic within this community: thirty days, no grapes, no haircuts, and no contact with death. Ironically, when the Nazir's vow expires, sometime after thirty days, he cannot just re-enter society. Instead, he must bring two offerings to the Kohen: a burnt offering and a sin offering. A sin offering: imagine that! Here is an individual who has voluntarily taken on more restrictions. Here is an individual who has successfully achieved a higher degree of piety. Now, in order to re-enter society, that individual must bring a sin offering. Is this the price for greatness? What is the  Nazir’s sin? The Nazir, in his/her attempt to achieve a higher level of piety,  voluntarily cut him/herself off from the community. This contradicts much of what we read in the book of Leviticus and even in Numbers. One is separated from the community when deemed impure by coming into contact with death. Separation from the community is a means of maintaining the spiritual purity of the community. The object is to remain in the community and elevate the holiness and purity of the community. Nazir's actions contradict the aims of the community and only emphasized the individual. The Nazir cannot join the community in Kiddush. The Nazir cannot prepare appropriately for an upcoming holiday with the rest of the community. According to Halacha, one prepares for a holiday by cutting hair, washing clothes, and preparing festive meals. Nor can the Nazir, along with the community help those who grieve. As a result, the Nazir must atone for voluntarily separating him/herself from the community.  Torah recognizes that there are those individuals who may adopt certain fanatical love for Mitzvot and God. However, it is quite clear that the laws regarding the Nazir do not condone fanatic behavior. On the contrary, the restrictions are quite minimal, the time frame is minimal, and the message is clearly unmistakable. Fanaticism, as in the case of the Nazir or voluntarily cutting oneself off from the community in order to achieve a higher level of spirituality, is a sin. One must atone for this behavior.

         So where is the heroism? Heroism is not found in self-absorbed large actions. Heroism is not found in a one-shot deal. Heroism is not found in loud rhetoric. Heroism is found in the humility of small and usually selfless actions. Heroism is found in the constancy of appropriate behavior. Heroism is found in the quiet deeds that improve the community and the world without calling attention to oneself. Heroism occurs as part of something bigger than the individual. Heroism is the acceptance of the daily Mitzvot of Torah Study, Ethical/Menschlikite behavior, Prayer, and Gemilut Hasidim (Acts of Loving Kindness). We learn that heroism and greatness are something we can all achieve. 

Peace,
Rav Yitz

Get Back Home Where You Belong ( Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia - "Row Jimmy Row")

I am always intrigued how our children’s opinions are affected by western culture, the mass media and even our community’s values and standards. When we discuss the concept of heroism, greatness, and what it means to be a hero; the influence of Western Culture and the mass media is most evident. For our nine year old son, heroism is manifest in saving a life and defeating the bad guys by putting one’s own life at risk. For our daughter who has been participating in the Holocaust Educational program entitled “Names not Numbers”, heroism means surviving the most heinous conditions. Yes, the fireman who saves a child from a burning building, the soldier who jumps upon a grenade saving the lives of his company, and the survivor of the Holocaust are all heroes. I completely agreed with them but then I offered a much more subtle, less dramatic definition. Sometimes heroism is evident by dealing with cancer treatments, by going through hard work of rehab. Sometimes heroism is waking up every morning and going to work in order to support a family. In all these cases, heroism is a function of the strength and integrity of the individual’s soul.  In all these cases, heroism is a function of the individual having a sense of sanctified purpose.

This morning we read from Parsha Naso. The Parsha’s 176 psukim make it among the longest single parshiot in the entire Torah.  Its length is also reflected in the wide variety of topics covered including: further description of Priestly obligations, the dedication of offering that each tribe brought prior to the Mishkan’s opening and laws concerning the wayward wife. Each of these seemingly disparate narratives and laws focuses upon a specific segment of the population. However all of the narratives and laws contain a common thread, how to raise the level of holiness. The Parsha also provides a mechanism for the most common individual to achieve spiritual greatness. The individual merely swears a vow to forego wine, grapes, grape products and haircuts for thirty days.  This vow of abstinence could be annulled if the individual comes into contact with death, a corpse. These are the three requirements of spiritual greatness: 30 days, no haircuts, and no grape products. Once those requirements are satisfied, then the Nazir has briefly lived on a higher spiritual plane than need be. As a result the Nazir achieved a higher level of spiritual greatness. Kol Yemai Nizro Kadosh Hu L’Adoshem – all the days of his being a Nazir, he is Sanctified to HaShem (Num. 6:8). Rashi clarifies that “all the days of his status as a Nazir as sanctified” refers to Zo Kedushat HaGuf Milhitamei L’Meitim – the sanctity of the body, which is manifest through abstinence from becoming impure through contact with the dead. Rashi explains that striving towards a higher level of Kedusha, of Holiness is attainable for all of us if only for a limited period of time. Theoretically the possibility of an “inner hero” resides in all of us.

Torah teaches us a valuable lesson. Very often we confuse greatness with size. “Greatness” is not only the courage to make “big” decisions. Greatness is not only initiating or responding to big events and crises. Very often, more often than not, “heroism” and “greatness” are not only big steps but rather the small initial steps that someday build into greatness. All of us can achieve “Greatness” and be “Heroes”. When a child hears this, when an adult learns this, then they become truly empowered to make the mundane activities such as: going to work, going to school, getting involved in the community, engaging in a small simple act of Gemilut Chasadim, sanctified holy and heroic deeds and behaviors.

Peace,

Rav Yitz

The Greatness Of Their Movement Is Just As Small As It Is Grand (John Barlow & Bob Weir - "Walk in the Sunshine")

While the Jewish world was celebrating Shavuot, it just so happened that the second day of Shavuot coincided with the Memorial Day Holiday in the United States.  During last Monday afternoon while walking with my children from lunch, I commented that it was Memorial Day in the United States. Our son asked what Memorial Day was. I explained that Memorial Day is the day when Americans remember all the soldiers who died while serving their country.  Our son thought for a moment and said that “I guess if you die for your country that must make you a hero.” Then he asked the next question. “Do you have to die for your country in order to be a hero?” I thought about the following Aggadah, (rabbinic legend) that a teacher once told me about the definition of a hero. One day Rebbe Yochanan was bathing in the Jordan River. Resh Lakish, who was a gladiator, also went to bathe in the river. Only seeing Rebbe Yochanan from the back with his long hair, Resh Lakish mistook him for a woman. When Resh Lakish called out to Rebbe Yochanan, needless to say, he was a bit surprised. Once the two men regained their composure, Rebbe Yochanan said, "Your strength should be devoted to Torah." "Your beauty should be devoted to women," replied Resh Lakish.  Rebbe Yochanan said, "If you repent, I will let you wed my sister, who is even more beautiful than I."  Resh Lakish undertook to repent, but the great gladiator was left so weakened by his decision to repent, he didn't even have the strength to gather up his gear. Then Rebbe Yochanan had him read Scripture and study Mishnah. Subsequently, Resh Lakish became a great man, a great scholar, and Rebbe Yochanan's right hand man (Babylonian Talmud Baba Metziah 84a).

This week's Parsha is Naso. It covers a variety of topics. First we read that once again, God commands Moshe to count. This time Moshe takes a census of the families in the tribe of Levi. Each family has a very specific role concerning the maintenance of the Mishkan (the Tabernacle). After the census, we are reminded that anyone in contact with a corpse is considered impure and must be removed from the camp for a period of time. We are also told that besides capital punishment, certain crimes towards members of the community are punishable by fines. We read about Sotah, the bitter waters a woman accused of adultery must drink. If she survives the ordeal, then she is innocent. On the day the tabernacle was finally completed, each leader of each of the twelve tribes brought gifts. Each day, a different tribe brought these gifts.

Of course, none of these events have anything to do with the Midrash about Resh Lakish's leaving the gladiator world and entering the world of Torah. However, before the twelve tribes bring their respective offerings, we read about those individuals who, if they so choose, can take upon themselves vows of abstinence. They are called Nazarites. In the Haftorah for Parsha Naso, we read about the birth of the most famous Nazir, Samson. The Nazir's vow of abstinence consists of no wine nor grapes, no haircut, no contact with the dead (this includes parents and siblings). His abstinence is a vow of purity; he shall not have any contact with death. "All the days of his abstinence he is holy to God." (Num. 6:8). Interestingly enough, the minimum time frame of this vow is only 30 days. That is all it takes to be considered heroic within this community: no grapes, no haircuts, and no contact with death. 

Ironically, when the Nazir's vow expires, sometime after thirty days, he cannot just re-enter society. Instead, he must bring two offerings to the Kohen: a burnt offering and a sin offering. A sin offering: imagine that! Here is an individual who has voluntarily taken on more restrictions. Here is an individual who has successfully achieved a higher degree of piety. Now, in order to re-enter society, that individual must bring a sin offering. Is this the price for greatness? What is the sin? The sin is that the individual, in his/her attempt to achieve a higher level of piety, must voluntarily cut him/herself off from the community. This contradicts much of what we read in the book of Leviticus and even in Numbers. One is separated from the community when deemed impure by coming into contact with death. Separation from the community is a means of maintaining the spiritual purity of the community. The object is to remain in the community and elevate the holiness and purity of the community. The Nazir's actions contradict the aims of the community. The Nazir cannot join the community in Kiddush. The Nazir cannot prepare appropriately for an upcoming holiday with the rest of the community. (According to Halacha, one prepares for a holiday by cutting hair, washing clothes, and preparing festive meals.) Nor can the Nazir, along with the community help those who grieve. As a result, the Nazir must atone for voluntarily separating him/herself from the community. In a very real sense, there is a bit of a mixed message. Torah recognizes that there are those individuals who may adopt certain fanatical love for Mitzvot and God. However, it is quite clear that the laws regarding the Nazir do not condone fanatic behavior. To the contrary, the restrictions are quite minimal, the time frame is minimal, and the message is clearly unmistakable. Fanaticism, voluntarily cutting oneself off from the community, is a sin. One must atone for this behavior.

So where is the heroism? Heroism is not found in self-absorbed large actions. Heroism is not found in a one-shot deal. Heroism is not found in loud rhetoric. Heroism is found in the humility of small actions. Heroism is found in the constancy of appropriate behavior. Heroism is found in the quiet improvement of the community and the world without calling attention to oneself. Heroism was Resh Lakish. Heroism was coming into the community. Heroism was the acceptance of the daily Mitzvot of Torah Study, Ethical/Menschlikite behavior, Prayer, and Gemilut Hasadim (Acts of Loving Kindness). We learn that heroism and greatness is something we can all achieve. So I explained to my son, that sometimes Heroism and Greatness does not mean one has to die for one’s country. Sometimes heroism and greatness is doing the best one and even succeeding in extremely difficult circumstances. He nodded and said if he behaved, acted like a mentsch, and grew up to be a good person maybe that would make him a hero. I nodded my head and smile.

Peace,

Rav Yitz

Still I Know I Lead TheWay, They Tell Me Where I Go (Barlow/Weir - Estimated Prophet)

We were away on a mini vacation. We had a simcha in New Jersey which allowed us to spend Shabbat and Sunday morning with some of our cousins. When we arrived in Teaneck, we had several hours before Shabbat. Our cousin had promised to take her young children to the local firehouse, and we decided to tag along. My children had been to firehouses as part of school field trips, but this was a little different. We had a chance to spend some time with the captain of the firehouse, a big strapping guy of Irish descent who was probably a little younger than me. He was someone’s husband, and he was a father. This seemed to be a very important quality for my children. The kids asked him about the fire trucks, about the equipment. He even put on all his equipment including mask and air tank. The kids had a chance to hold the hose and spray water from it as if they were putting out a fire. I had a few moments to speak the captain and asked him about his experience during 9/11. Teaneck is located just across the George Washington Bridge maybe 10-15 miles from New York City. The captain explained that he was there, he like so many other braved the infernos and help put them out. He like so many other firemen also participated in the search and rescue mission after the towers came down. As he began to speak and share his story with me, my children gathered around both of us and just listened. I began to well up. When he finished sharing with us that horrible day and the days and weeks afterwards; it was time for us to leave and get ready for Shabbat. As we said good-bye, and thanked the captain, my children asked me if this man was a hero. I said yes, this man and many like him are heroes. My daughter thanked the Fire captain, and offered the following statement. “You’re wife and children must be very proud to know that you are a hero. Thank you for being a hero and keeping people safe.”

This Shabbat we read from Parsha Chukkat. Chukkat begins by telling us the Law for the Red Heifer. A Chok is a statute for which there is no logical reason. Unlike a Mitzvah, which is a commandment, and for which reasons and rationale may abound in order for the Mitzvah to make sense, a Chok is simply taken on faith. Unlike a Mishpat, which is a judgment that comes from a specific case/decision, a Chok is seemly plucked out of the air and there is no thought given to decisions. The Chok concerning the Red Heifer is that the individual Priest who prepares the mixture that will render the entire nation spiritually pure, will himself become impure from the mixture. However the Parsha continues the theme of Chukkat following the statute of the Red Heifer. A brief narrative concerning the death of Miriam, the lack of water and B’nai Yisroel’s resulting anxiety and lack of faith leads to the issuance of another Chok. Moshe and Aaron don’t know what to do; so God tells them: Kach et HaMateh v’Hakhaeil Et Ha’Edah Ata v’Aharon Achicha v’Dibartem El HaSela L’Eineihem V’Natan Meimav V’Hotzeitah Lahem Mayim Min HaSela V’Hishkita et HaEidah v’Et B’Iram – Hashem spoke to Moshe saying: Take the staff and gather together the assembly, you and Aaron your brother, and speak to the rock before their eyes that it shall give its waters. You shall bring forth for them water from the rock and give drink to the assembly and to their animals (Num. 20:8). This statute was directed at Moshe and Aaron. There was no apparent logic or reason for it. The Torah text offers a very simple explanation of Moshe’s sin and ensuing punishment. After striking the rock twice, water came out from the rock, and the assembly drank. God explains the reason for the harsh punishment. Ya’an Lo He’ehmantem Bi L’Hakdisheine L’Einei Bnai Yisroel Lachein Lo Taviu et HaKahal Hazeh el Ha’Aretz asher Natati Lahem: Because you did not believe in Me to sanctify Me in the eyes of the Children of Israel, therefore you will not bring this congregation to the Land that I have given them (Num. 20:12). The most humble man, who had the closest relationship to God, receives perhaps the most hurtful of punishments for a moment of weakness.

Certainly, it is possible to question the punishment as too severe for what transpired. Why does Moshe need to take the rod, the same rod he used to touch the Nile in order to begin the plague of blood? The last time God issued a command about drawing water from a rock; Moshe was commanded to strike the rock (Ex. 17:6). Why pick up the rod if he wasn’t going to use it? Now, without warning God has changed the way Moshe was to draw water from the rock. Now without warning of the punishment if Moshe fails to heed the directive, Moshe is unable to fulfill his mission and bring B’nai Yisroel into Eretz Canaan. The Parsha concludes with Bnai Yisroel defeating the Amorites and temporarily dwelling on the planes of Moav, on the Eastern side of the Jordan River.

Our commentators offer a variety of explanations for this apparently harsh punishment. Rashi explains that Moshe’s fall from the pedestal of “the Hero” because he hit the rock rather than speak as he was commanded. Rambam explains that Moshe’s error was the fact that he was incredibly angry with the people. Since Moshe is a direct emissary of God, the people mistakenly thought that God was mad at them as well when that was not the case. In this Parsha we are never told that God is angry at Bnai Yisroel. Rabeinu Chananel explains that the mistake was the fact that Moshe and Aharon had used the phrase HaMin HaSelah HaZeh Notzim Lachem Mayim – Shall we bring forth for you water from this rock?” The phrase suggests that Moshe and Aharon had forgotten that God was going to bring forth the water, not Moshe and Aharon. The statement intuits that Moshe was elevating himself above God. Instead Moshe should have rhetorically asked if God will bring forth water for you…. The Midrash Tanchuma and Abarbanel explain that Aharon and Moshe already fell from their heroic pedestals. Aharon had not yet been punished for his involvement in the episode of the Golden Calf and Moshe initiated the episode of the spies. God had never commanded Moshe to send spies. The Chiddushei HaRim explains that Moshe and Aharon’s failure and reason for punishment has to do with speaking to the Rock L’Eineihem – before their eyes – before the people. For the Chiddushei HaRim, Moshe’s ultimate shortcoming was that he wasted an opportunity to teach this new generation, this generation that was not familiar with slavery, nor familiar with life in Egypt, nor directly experienced the miracle of the Exodus.

While we may disagree with severity of Moshe’s punishment, perhaps we can appreciate why God could no longer support Moshe as the leader to bring Bnai Yisroel into Eretz Canaan. For God, leading Bnai Yisroel means serving as a role model. For God, being a leader, indeed, being heroic means possessing the strength, the courage and the faith to sanctify God when all reason, and context suggests that do so is ludicrous or even life threatening. For God, being a leader, engaging in heroic behavior means bringing others, family, community, or an entire people closer to a meaningful relationship with God. Most of us do not sit in such positions of authority. Most of us are not leaders of industry. Most of us are not role models for society at large. However, within our families, parents are role models for their children. Older siblings are role models for younger siblings. Within our community, we are all role models for other members of the community. We all are presented opportunities to draw other members into the community or to push members out of the community. The captain of the Teaneck Fire Department not only had the opportunity to act heroically on numerous occasions, including 9/11; he has the opportunity to teach children and adults what it means to act heroically and to lead through both word and deed. We can either engage or alienate. We can be honestly warm and friendly or we can speak Lashon Harah behind a person’s back. Depending upon what we do, we will either create a community that is vibrant, observant, thoughtful, and warm. Moshe, the greatest teacher, prophet, and transmitter of law and theology missed a glaring opportunity to teach Bnai Yisroel. When such a person with vast amounts of power and responsibility miss a sacred opportunity to teach, to explain and create an opportunity for the common folk to draw closer to God, then we can understand the harshness of the punishment. Hopefully my children now can begin to understand that leadership and heroism sometimes is as much the fulfillment of a Chok as it is the fulfillment of a Mitzvah.

Peace,

Rav Yitz