Shabbath Tchuvah: Haazinu

Shabbath Tchuvah: Haazinu

 Several texts are impacting me this year. There is the usual parsha, the last chapter of the Torah that is read publicly, Haazinu.  The  Daf Yomi ( the world wide Talmud  page of the day) ends Tractate Chulin  on this Shabbath. We are looking forward to reading the Book of Jonah on Yom Kippu. and we are winding down Selichoth,  the prayers of Supplication that are begun a week before Rosh Hashanah, many of which are incorporated into the Yom Kippur service.

Haazinu, this week’s parsha. Is the song/poem that Moses taught the Israelites just before his death. The previous chapter ends with Moshe instructing that the people be assembled to listen to this poem 

הַקְהִ֧ילוּ אֵלַ֛י אֶת־כׇּל־זִקְנֵ֥י שִׁבְטֵיכֶ֖ם וְשֹׁטְרֵיכֶ֑ם וַאֲדַבְּרָ֣ה בְאׇזְנֵיהֶ֗ם אֵ֚ת הַדְּבָרִ֣ים הָאֵ֔לֶּה וְאָעִ֣ידָה בָּ֔ם אֶת־הַשָּׁמַ֖יִם וְאֶת־הָאָֽרֶץ׃

Gather to me all the elders of your tribes and your officials, that I may speak all these words to them and that I may call heaven and earth to witness against them.

כִּ֣י יָדַ֗עְתִּי אַחֲרֵ֤י מוֹתִי֙ כִּֽי־הַשְׁחֵ֣ת תַּשְׁחִת֔וּן וְסַרְתֶּ֣ם מִן־הַדֶּ֔רֶךְ אֲשֶׁ֥ר צִוִּ֖יתִי אֶתְכֶ֑ם וְקָרָ֨את אֶתְכֶ֤ם הָרָעָה֙ בְּאַחֲרִ֣ית הַיָּמִ֔ים כִּֽי־תַעֲשׂ֤וּ אֶת־הָרַע֙ בְּעֵינֵ֣י יְהֹוָ֔ה לְהַכְעִיס֖וֹ בְּמַעֲשֵׂ֥ה יְדֵיכֶֽם׃

For I know that, when I am dead, you will act wickedly and turn away from the path that I enjoined upon you, and that in time to come misfortune will befall you for having done evil in GD’s sight and provoking anger by your deeds.

The motivation for the poem is that it will explain the  misfortune [that] will befall you  as a consequence of having done evil in GD’s sight and provoking anger. The poem helps maintain faith in the face of severe punishment. The poem tells us that the misfortunes are justified by the evil behavior that caused them. It allows for Gd to be thought of as just. it does not rule out the possibility of Mercy, but the transgressions are so severe that the punishment is deserved. This context is needed to maintain faith (and the behaviors that follow from it)  after misfortunes like the holocaust. The problem presented by this worldview is that people can never be good enough. The prophecy of Moses predicts their sin.

 This year, when the titans of artificial intelligence are reporting the danger of their product, the poem becomes more important.  Large language models primarily predict the next set of symbols, the next word.  They have a huge collection of word sequences from which to choose the most likely next word. They are perpetuating cliche. Poetry is the enemy of cliche. The words answer to rhythm, rhyme, sound. These are properties that can be imitated by large language models. But poetry also requires elements of uniqueness, unexpected combinations.   Solomon Shereshevsky   was a man who was said to have  remembered everything. He was a living large language model. He hated poetry. He could memorize it but he could not understand it. Personally, I am never sure I understand the poem. Haazinu is a poem that is blocked from comprehension; it is the incomprehensible way of Gd. 

As we say selichoth this season  I am inundated with poetry that is difficult to understand. There is an easy problem and a hard problem. The easy problem  is that some of the words are contracted or referential to Torah and the prophets.  My highly  annotated editions of Selichot  allow me to decode the contractions and look up references. The hard problem is understanding the message which includes a significant component of vengeance against our enemies and self blame for the misfortunes. Those lead to a choice. Should I understand the poems of selichot to be the transmitters of a  tradition that I am  now having trouble with  because the ambient culture has made some of these concepts objectionable?  Should I try to understand vengeance in a different way?  Should I adapt myself to the tradition?  For now, I will  just leave it confused

Some of these ideas about the difficulties involved in relating to other peoples as a Jew are seen in the book of Jonah. Gd sends Jonah to Nineveh to try to save that City because the city has been so evil it merits divine destruction. Jonah runs away from these instructions. He goes AWOL. Gd threatens the destruction of a party of innocent people who are accompanying and think they are helping Jonah. A great storm threatens to destroy the ship. Jonah instructs the sailors to throw him overboard. He will sacrifice himself for the Gentiles.  That successfully calms the sea. Jonah is maintained in an underwater object and comes around to promise that he will carry out the commands of Gd. Jonah goes to the  Nineveh and saves the city by rousing their repentance. Jonah is angry that Nineveh is saved. Jonah sits in a tent outside the city to see what will happen. The sun beats down on his head and God makes a tree to shade him which brings him great joy. The next day, Gd destroys the tree. The tree was a metaphor about how the world works. Jonah should have felt more Mercy for human beings and animals. 

Jonah did not want to save Nineveh. The Abarbanel  says that Jonah foresaw that Nineveh would come and attack his Nation. Rashi says that he did not want to demonstrate how easily the enemy repents in contrast to the kingdom of Israel. One way or another, Jonah's interests were primarily in Israel survival even if it was to the detriment and destruction of another great city. Gd save us from our enemies. Gd save us from the repentance of our enemies 

Tractate Chulim ends with an analysis of a famous story. There are a few times in the Torah where a reward is stated for the performance of a mitzvah. One of these is obedience to a parent which is rewarded by long life. Another, it's a commandment to shoo away a mother bird before taking her eggs or chips. That is also rewarded by long life. In the story reported at the end of Chulin, a man instructs his son to shoo away a bird and take some eggs. The son dutifully climbs a ladder, shoos away a bird, takes the eggs, falls off the ladder and dies. The Talmud asks:  where is the length of days?  What happened to the promised reward?  The text struggles with the question and comes to the conclusion that the reward occurs in the world to come. The text recognizes how unsettling this incident was and it resulted in at least one famous heretic, “The Other” ( the subject of "As A Driven Leaf").  

In these days before Yom Kippur, I want my repentance accepted.  I am willing to surrender a good deal of my rational faculty to that end. I do not know if it is enough. 

 

Rosh Hashanah: The End

 I listened to “The Doors” when I was old enough to handle their dark messages. I think that one phrase summarizes it:

 “ This is the end

My only friend

The End. “

I could see this as ridiculous and true (a feeling I have become increasingly familiar with).  The end is when it is all over. It is not my friend.  The end  can be conceived of as a friend to one who is suffering. But growing up as the son of struggling holocaust survivors raises the bar of the level of suffering that merits a friendship with the end. It was also helpful to hear that my parents considered that solution a few times in the depths of their misery and chose an alternative.  

Now we are at the end of the Jewish year. The Torah cycle comes to its concluding chapters. These are chapters of dire prophecy with a dessert of hope. The last message: Moses fails to enter the promised land. The chapter that we read next week, between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur describes the nation abandoning their  Lord and the  hiding of Gd’s face, the removal of Divine Grace, that ensues. Of course, there is a final redemption, but only after severe degradation; enough humiliation to make the End your friend. 

I just returned from the extraordinarily long prayer service (Selichot and Shacharith) reserved for the day before Rosh Hashanah, the last day - the end- of the year. The coda to that service is Hatorath Nedarim, the annulment of vows. The annulment of vows on the eve of Yom Kippur, Kol Nidre is far better known. The Kol Nidre is brief, not detailed and the message is often primarily  conveyed  by the  music. The Hatorat Nedarim before Rosh Hashana is more detailed, more Talmudic. It delves into the various ways vows are made, which vows can and cannot be annulled, and what justifies annulment. 

This year I understand the annulment of vows on the last day of the year differently. I understand that some vows cannot be kept.  Gd may not want the vow fulfilled.  The Annulment of vow recognizes that I may have  to live (or die) with disappointment. The vow is a statement of capability, and I will overestimate that capability. I will not be able to do everything I dream of. (The annulment of vows formula specifically includes vows taken while dreaming).  I will probably not live up to the goals I imagine I could reach.  That may be a good thing. It may be another way that the end is my friend. 

The mood that is generated by the music, poetry  and liturgy of Rosh Hashanah brings the end into focus. That view is reality. The one  true prophecy that we all have:  that everything will eventually end. The end is not your friend, but viewing it is therapeutic.

 Nitzavim Vayelech

This is an emotionally moving  season.  The cooling weather and shortening days kindle the inner warmth. In the Jewish Calendar we are approaching the days of awe, I am beginning to make the accounting of myself for the year past and thinking about how to improve the year ahead. 

Over the course of my life, the significance of this season has increased. This is the week when I commemorate my father's death. I will lead much of Shabbath service and chant the haftarah of this parsha. 

My eldest grandson was born in this week. When he is bar mitzvah, he will chant the same haftarah. Some element of my father's spirit will continue through him. 

This week we have a double parsha. The first, Nitzavim, sets a scene 

אַתֶּ֨ם נִצָּבִ֤ים הַיּוֹם֙ כֻּלְּכֶ֔ם לִפְנֵ֖י יְ

You stand this day, all of you, before the ETERNAL your Gd

רָאשֵׁיכֶ֣ם שִׁבְטֵיכֶ֗ם זִקְנֵיכֶם֙ וְשֹׁ֣טְרֵיכֶ֔ם כֹּ֖ל אִ֥ישׁ יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃

your tribal heads, your elders, and your officials—the entire body of Israel,

טַפְּכֶ֣ם נְשֵׁיכֶ֔ם וְגֵ֣רְךָ֔ אֲשֶׁ֖ר בְּקֶ֣רֶב מַחֲנֶ֑יךָ מֵחֹטֵ֣ב עֵצֶ֔יךָ עַ֖ד שֹׁאֵ֥ב מֵימֶֽיךָ׃ 

your children, your wives, and the stranger within your camp, from woodchopper to waterdrawer.

The theme of intergenerational transmission is immediately stated. It is an element of the inclusive nature of the covenant.  The covenant extends to 

וְאֵ֨ת אֲשֶׁ֥ר אֵינֶ֛נּוּ פֹּ֖ה עִמָּ֥נוּ הַיּֽוֹם׃

and with those who are not with us here this day.

It extends to those yet to be born. (Perhaps it also extends to those not yet ready to hear it.) It extends to my parents, to me, to my children, grandchildren and beyond. 

This is the all inclusive assembly.  Every stratum of society, from the elite to the lowliest are nitzavim, standing. The work of  woodchoppers and water drawer is  given greater definition in the Book of Joshua (Chapter 9).  The Gibeonites, a Canaanite tribe that joined the Israelites under false pretenses, are relegated to these jobs. This verse reminds me of my parents' struggles to find work as immigrants to the U.S.  It reminds me of how this covenant conferred dignity on my father when he plucked chickens  for tips.

The noun that corresponds to nitzavim is netziv, a word that means pillar. Nitzavim implies the constancy of a supporting column.  When the structure is destroyed, often remnants of the columns remain. The ruins are venerated, but they support no thing; they support the imagination; perhaps they support the sky. For me, at least some of the structure remains. 

The second parsha , the third from the last parsha of the Torah, is Vayelech. The chiastic (closed loop) structure of the Torah is revealed. The third parsha from the beginning of the Torah is Lech Lecha. The root for both words, lech, go, is the same. Lech Lecha tells of Abraham's adventure as he sets out into an unknown land  and his obedience to Gd which wins the promise from Gd that the land will someday be the home of his descendants. Vayelech deals with Moshe's legacy  of laws and literature. Moses brings the descendants of Abraham to the edge of the promised land, but Moses is specifically denied entry. Moses generated a legacy that is independent of geography; Moses generated a legacy that could survive exile and disappointment. 

 This week, I recite the haftarah in honor of the  anniversary of my father's Death. It is the haftarah reserved  for my gandson's Bar Mitzvah.  The haftarah contains verses that remind me of my father's story:

מִי־זֶ֣ה ׀ בָּ֣א מֵאֱד֗וֹם חֲמ֤וּץ בְּגָדִים֙ מִבׇּצְרָ֔ה

Who is this coming from Edom,

In crimsoned garments from Bozrah—

The verse conveys surprise that  someone is  coming from Edom, the land of Esau and his garments are חֲמ֤וּץ , chamutz. .  This is the only place in tanach that  חֲמ֤וּץ  appears (hapax legomenon), and it is translated as red.  Presumably the word is related to חָמֵץ,  leavened, a condition we might describe by the derogatory "ripe. The implication is that the clothes evidence a harrowing experience.  This person that we are wondering about  has told us nothing.  It was not necessary. We know something about him just from his appearance.  

מַדּ֥וּעַ אָדֹ֖ם לִלְבוּשֶׁ֑ךָ וּבְגָדֶ֖יךָ כְּדֹרֵ֥ךְ בְּגַֽת׃

Why is Your clothing so red,

Your garments like those of someone who treads grapes?

We know that the garments are not red from trampling grapes.  They are red from blood.  But do I  want to confront the story of this blood? The  source of the blood is ambiguous.  Is it  even blood (do I believe the story) ?  Is it  the enemy's blood? Is it the blood of brothers? A mixture?  What horrors and moral compromises were necessary to survive Treblinka and the holocaust. 

Over the years, I learned that my father was a pillar of  righteousness.

My father worked in the laundry at Treblinka. He was working for the Nazis (Edom). He was washing the (chamutz, filthy) clothes.  Presumably most of the clothes were from people who had been sent to the gas chambers. These stolen  clothes had to be washed before they were sent back to Germany. It was a relatively benign job.

One day his capo (his Jewish supervisor) saw that his relatives were on the transport. Unless the capo found jobs for them they would be sent to death. The capo told my father that my father's service in the laundry was no longer needed and he would be replaced by the capo's relatives. That meant that my father would go to the gas chamber. My father took a board and hit the capo over the head making him bleed. This was clearly a capital offense.

The German officer who was supervising the area said that my father would be burned alive on the board that he used to hit the capo. The other laundry workers came to my father's defense. They explained the story to the German officer. The German officer took out his gun and gave it to my father to shoot the capo. My father refused! The officer shot the capo and my father continued to work on the laundry until the uprising.

What is this blood? Whose blood?

 Ki Thavo: impact

The Passover Seder ( the most lasting ritual among American Jews) contains  texts from this week’s parsha. 

אֲרַמִּי֙ אֹבֵ֣ד אָבִ֔י וַיֵּ֣רֶד מִצְרַ֔יְמָה וַיָּ֥גׇר שָׁ֖ם בִּמְתֵ֣י מְעָ֑ט וַֽיְהִי־שָׁ֕ם לְג֥וֹי גָּד֖וֹל עָצ֥וּם וָרָֽב׃ 

“My father was a fugitive Aramean. He went down to Egypt with meager numbers and sojourned there; but there he became a great and very populous nation.

In the parsha, these words are recited  when the first fruits are brought to the temple. They are part of the re-assertion that Gd has kept the pledge to deliver the descendents of Abraham to a Promised Land. These words connect the  Israelite to the nation and its history. 

The hagadda gives a Midrashic interpretation: 

[what] Laban the Aramean

sought to do to our father Jacob:

Pharaoh condemned only the boys to death,

but Laban sought to uproot everything,

The Aramean is Jacob. He is cast as an Aramean because  he has fled to his uncle’s land, Aram (Syria?).  Laban is cast as trying to destroy the seed of the nation. Laban’s murderous intent is not clear from the text. His anger and envy are stated. Laban seems to have been ambivalent about Jacob’s family. 

וַיַּ֨עַן לָבָ֜ן וַיֹּ֣אמֶר אֶֽל־יַעֲקֹ֗ב הַבָּנ֨וֹת בְּנֹתַ֜י וְהַבָּנִ֤ים בָּנַי֙ וְהַצֹּ֣אן צֹאנִ֔י וְכֹ֛ל אֲשֶׁר־אַתָּ֥ה רֹאֶ֖ה לִי־ה֑וּא וְלִבְנֹתַ֞י מָֽה־אֶעֱשֶׂ֤ה לָאֵ֙לֶּה֙ הַיּ֔וֹם א֥וֹ לִבְנֵיהֶ֖ן אֲשֶׁ֥ר יָלָֽדוּ׃

Then Laban spoke up and said to Jacob, “The daughters are my daughters, the children are my children, and the flocks are my flocks; all that you see is mine. Yet what can I do now about my daughters or the children they have borne?

Perhaps Laban would have preferred Jacob and family to have stayed in Aram with him. That plot could have led to the destruction of the people not by murder, but by assimilation. The Israelites would be lost אֹבֵ֣ד, among the Arameans and never emerged  as they eventually did from Egypt ( where they were persecuted). 

Onkelos is aligned with the Haggadah. He translates the Torah passage:

לָבָן אֲרַמָּאָה בָּעָא לְאוֹבָדָא יָת אַבָּא

Lavan the Arami wanted to destroy my forefather.

Two things are clear: this is an origin story and the (fore)father is an Arami. He is not a Canaanite. Israel is not the indigenous people returning to the homeland of our origin. The founder, whether he is Abraham ( who was born in Aram) or Jacob ( who returned from Aram, escaping from Lavan) [or some later Hebrew or Jew] is an invader. The promised land has ethical difficulties from day one.

The (fore)father is escaping, a victim of persecution. He was forced to migrate under a threat of death. Does that justify the invasion? It does not guarantee a welcome. The locals shout: "send them back to where they came from." The exiles cannot go back, they have been banished; there is no longer a "place they came from." This is a foundational story of desperation. 

To me, identifying Abraham as the Arami is simpler. When  Abraham was told to leave his father’s home, the family was living in Haran, which seems to have been in Aram. The family that Abraham left spawned Laban ( the Arami). Abraham could certainly be called an Arami. The word Aram is contained in his (birth)name: A(b)ram. Gd had commanded Abram to set off wandering. The original promise of the land was made to Abraham. 

Identifying Abraham as as the wandering Arami of this declaration  is inconvenient because it is not exclusive enough. Abraham’s descendants include the Ishmaeliites, the Edomites and others. Making Jacob the subject excludes those (competing) tribes.  It makes the declaration nationalistic. The recitation, whether in the Temple or at the Passover Seder  asserts loyalty to the nation. 

A  litany of curses that take up most of the parsha. These are characterized as punishments for failure to adhere to the commandments. These curses are  an undoing of the opening. The chapter starts with a celebration of the miracle of the Exodus from Egypt, the liberation from slavery

וַיּוֹצִאֵ֤נוּ יְ

מִמִּצְרַ֔יִם בְּיָ֤ד חֲזָקָה֙ וּבִזְרֹ֣עַ נְטוּיָ֔ה וּבְמֹרָ֖א גָּדֹ֑ל וּבְאֹת֖וֹת וּבְמֹפְתִֽים׃

The LORD freed us from Egypt by a mighty hand, by an outstretched arm and awesome power, and by signs and portents.

It ends with a return to Egypt and status inferior to slavery.

וֶהֱשִֽׁיבְךָ֨ יְ

 מִצְרַ֘יִם֮ בׇּאֳנִיּוֹת֒ בַּדֶּ֙רֶךְ֙ אֲשֶׁ֣ר אָמַ֣רְתִּֽי לְךָ֔ לֹא־תֹסִ֥יף ע֖וֹד לִרְאֹתָ֑הּ וְהִתְמַכַּרְתֶּ֨ם שָׁ֧ם לְאֹיְבֶ֛יךָ לַעֲבָדִ֥ים וְלִשְׁפָח֖וֹת וְאֵ֥ין קֹנֶֽה׃ {ס}

The LORD will send you back to Egypt in galleys, by a route which I told you you should not see again. There you shall offer yourselves for sale to your enemies as male and female slaves, but none will buy.

The curse is presented as a progression. It starts with natural disasters – drought and disease - and progresses to defeat , exile and subjugation. It starts with the national and moves on  to the personal. The atrocities described evoke the holocaust. It is distressing that this ancient text, describing the most repulsive scenes Moshe can imagine, does not quite equal the reality of Poland in 1942.

How did this text prepare the Jews in the Eastern European exile? When the persecution came, did they see it as the expected fulfillment of the prophecy? Did the passage, heard (by many) innumerable times since childhood, add a sense of familiarity to the persecution? Was there some comfort in the prediction? Did it make the nation more cooperative and thus help the evil enemy?

Exile from the promised land is an important element of the chastisement. Foreign status strips the migrant of the protections granted to the citizen. The disenfranchised alien is the easiest victim of abuse. The refugee is willing to endure some additional degradation as part of the price of survival. But even this will be denied.

In the overall arc of the parsha, as applied to more recent history, Zionism emerges as an answer that  conforms to the tradition. The blessings of the promised land include a measure of security that emerges from the reunification of the nation. The wandering Aramean foundation story  questions the validity  of adverse possession.

 Different nations seem to hear Gd’s words differently.

 And then there is propaganda. 

Ki Theitze: passion

 Ki Theitze: passion

A hidden power resides in the written word. It is a communication from a ghost, an entity without substance, often a dead person. Receiving the message requires skills that have become automatic: translating pictures into letters, letters into words, words into meaning. The complexity of the process engages some critical facilities, algorithms that question the accuracy of transmission and the validity of the message. Processes that quiet the questioning are also engaged. Reading generates a tickle asking : "who am I, really?"

Many people read for pleasure. What is that pleasure? The acquisition of information? The resolution of a mystery? The titillation of a  romance? They all share  the tickle. 

Ki Theitzei is a very exciting parsha. It provides the pleasure  of excitement and the questions that accompany the feelings. 

Ki Theitzi opens with: 

כִּֽי־תֵצֵ֥א לַמִּלְחָמָ֖ה עַל־אֹיְבֶ֑יךָ

When you go out to battle against your enemies

The stage is set in the first four words. Merely going out, leaving the familiar, the first two words, involves courage. In the modern world, we have a large sphere of familiarity. When I drive my car to the airport, get on a small plane, fly to San Juan Island, I have not gone out. I have stayed inside the familiar. Going out means that you do not know what will confront you.

" Go out to battle "raises the emotional intensity enormously.  Now there is mortal danger; you could die. It is a battle. You may need to kill. If you meet people you cannot identify, you may need to kill them, even in a state of doubt. You will have to live with your deeds. You may be killed and your children will become captive slaves. You may kill, and you will be haunted.  It is an intense opening. 

The first sentence assumes (a Gd granted) victory. Now we deal with the consequences. The instructions for dealing with the captive woman is a rich soup of indulgence and prohibition, cruelty and kindness. 

The parsha shows some guarded tolerance for passion. It is allowing the captive to become a wife or a concubine.  In the Torah, such  a compromise with passion is shocking.  This contrasts with prevailing American culture. Modern movies celebrate passion.. Passion is a source of the greatest pleasure; even if the object of desire is never attained. In American culture, passion is beautiful. My assumption (based on the tradition as I have it) is that: In the Torah, passion is dangerous. In the Torah, passion is not an excuse, certainly not a valid motivation. The guarded tolerance seen here is a very rare exception. 

Passion has its moment in the post-Mosaic canon. The story of David and Bathsheba makes this passion, with its murderous and adulterous aspect, an immortal story.  The product of this liaison becomes David's successor, the wisest of men, Shlomo ( my namesake). David was a man of passion. 

The Midrash Tanchuma on Ki Theize uses another story of David as the exemplar of the consequence of succumbing to passion. The Midrash  connects the captive wife with the hated wife of our parsha, the mother of the firstborn son who may not be denied the right of [double portion] primogeniture  and, ultimately, the wayward child who is killed by the  system.   David's second son, Absalom is the product of David's union with Maacah bat Talmai, whom the Midrash identifies as a captive woman. Absalom, with his treasonous rebellion,  becomes the model  of the wayward son, the ultimate product of the passion for the captive woman. Solomon, David's successor, the paradigm of wisdom, is the product of the adulterous and murderous passion for Bathsheba. 

Is passion good or bad; is it an overwhelming force or is it a force to fear and tame and control. I am confused.  I cannot say  that history plays out independent of passion, maybe it is like fire. 

Passion permeates the parsha, but most of it is subtle and goes by other names. Greed, as presented in the parsha is  unjustified acquisition.  Hiding from helping another or  keeping a lost object is the passion of selfishness. Acting on passion always involves resolving the internal conflict between inertia and action. The resolution of passivity also has the  scent of passion; it is the first step in ‘going out, כִּֽי־תֵצֵ֥א. 

In the parsha, desires are assumed, but limits are set: 

כִּ֤י תָבֹא֙ בְּכֶ֣רֶם רֵעֶ֔ךָ וְאָכַלְתָּ֧ עֲנָבִ֛ים כְּנַפְשְׁךָ֖ שׇׂבְעֶ֑ךָ וְאֶֽל־כֶּלְיְךָ֖ לֹ֥א תִתֵּֽן׃ {ס}

When you enter a fellow Israelite’s vineyard, you may eat as many grapes as you want, until you are full, but you must not put any in your vessel.

Denial of greedy behavior evolves into concern for the destitute, which is also expressed with intensity: 

לֹא־יַחֲבֹ֥ל רֵחַ֖יִם וָרָ֑כֶב כִּי־נֶ֖פֶשׁ ה֥וּא חֹבֵֽל׃ {ס}

A hand mill or an upper millstone shall not be taken in pawn, for that would be taking someone’s life in pawn.

The theme of power, and the attempt to control its abuse, runs through the parsha. The worker must be paid in a timely manner; the debtor cannot be made destitute by compound interest, the pawn shop client deserves dignity. Power over others leads to consequences, and the human lord is not omniscient, the unexpected will happen.

The rules are inconvenient, they can be expensive, they can be obscure. The rational edicts, the ones that seem kind and respectful, are comforting, they feel  justified.   But justice seems to be a timebound concept and there are  new ways to change our sense of what is right and wrong that are being employed. 

There is a chiastic structure to the parsha. The end reflects the beginning. The parsha opens with a victory against an unidentified enemy. It ends with the obligation to obliterate the memory of Israel’s eternal enemy, Amalek. 

The Amalek of my parent's generation. the Nazis, tried to annul the material progress the Jews had achieved. As the Jews were emerging from their oppression of disenfranchisement in Europe, now able to achieve their newfound dreams; just as they were seeing the European enlightenment as an alternate path to the Old Torah that taught them to eternally hate Amalek, the force of cancellation rose (again?) to create another eternal enemy, whose memory must be erased and can never be forgotten.

Now Jew-hatred is fueled by reports that the state of Israel is violating what many of the laws in this week’s parsha have evolved into: human rights. It is such a severe accusation that the attempt to find justification feels uncomfortable. There are tradeoffs. Greater concern for civilians means more soldiers are killed and wounded. Does victory bring a better peace than settlement? I cannot validate a murderously antisemitic organization Hamas. I just want it to end. I want it never to happen again. Justice is a dream. 

There is much more to write... but you must pursue your passions. 

Shoftim: Choices

 

The parsha  starts by instructing the people to choose judges and officers. I have a sense that the meaning of choice has changed over the centuries. The chapter does not make it clear who the choosers are or how the choices are made.

 I am familiar with my own era. I live in a time when people believe that they make individual choices based upon their reason and their feelings. There is a large industry  that works to manipulate those thoughts and feelings and generate consensus that is most advantageous for the manipulators.  Their methods are very careful to maintain a sense of individual choice. The sense of individual choice is very important in this society. It is probably the most fundamental aspect of what we call liberty. In American schools we learn the quote from Patrick Henry: Give me liberty or give me death.

When people discuss choice the common ground is rationality. Over the last several centuries, the belief: that a set of understandable laws drive the events of the world, has led to the idea that compliance with those laws, the laws of nature and the laws of mathematics, are the only valid bases on which to make public decisions. Although Gödel’s theorem proves that there is a flaw in this approach( that not every truth can be derived rationally and or some statements that are rationally derived are false) rationality has certainly been a strong tool and has garnered almost universal credibility.

 

When the Torah asks that we choose judges and officers , and requires them to be: impartial, people who do not accept bribes, people who pursue Tzedek ( justice), everything feels right. It is completely compatible with a rational worldview. Then, the prohibition of a nearby tree appears.

 Sifrei  (quoted by Rashi) relates the prohibition to planting an asheira, a tree that was part of some local system of idol worship. Based upon the additional word  kol, all, this is expanded to any tree. Prohibiting a competing belief system works within a rational framework. On a deeper level, this is a warning against attempting to beautify the surroundings even if  the beautification expressing some hidden set of beliefs. It is a demand that the rules be followed rather than aesthetics. It tells us to be careful of what we call aesthetics. It certainly calls into question the line from Keats's  Ode on a Grecian Urn

  "Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all

                Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."

 

I am very interested in the prohibition of idolatry and magic. Much of our modern world would have seemed magical to a person even a century ago, all the more so to a person who lived millennia in the past. To communicate by whispering into a box and include both audio and video is magical. There are few people who deeply understand exactly how those systems work. But we believe that they work through the universal laws that have been discovered and are independent of belief systems. This system of laws of physics is accepted as God's work. It is the appeal to forces outside of this system that constitutes prohibited magic and associated idolatry.

 

When I was growing up, many small superstitions were preserved by my parents. I remember the prohibition on walking over another child because it would stop them from growing. The preservation of these superstitions is not a simple matter. There is an element admitting to  not knowing what is real. Regardless of the potential of rationality, no one has command of enough knowledge to know how the world works for sure.

 

Maimonides held that magic and witchcraft are totally false

רמב׳ם הל עבודה זרה 11:15

 
 וּדְבָרִים הָאֵלּוּ כֻּלָּן דִּבְרֵי שֶׁקֶר וְכָזָב הֵן

All the above matters are falsehood and lies

A statement like this reflects a very deep respect for rationality. This level of respect for rationality could make it a competitor with the strict interpretation of the words of the Torah. Operationally, we consider the words of  the Torah subject  to interpretation, even requiring interpretation.

Ramban Holds that there are hidden forces in the world that could be subject to human manipulation but only at God's discretion.  On the pasuk:

לֹֽא־תִלְמַ֣ד לַעֲשׂ֔וֹת כְּתוֹעֲבֹ֖ת הַגּוֹיִ֥ם הָהֵֽם׃

you shall not learn to imitate the abhorrent practices of those nations.

 

Ramban comments:

 וְעַתָּה דַּע וְהָבֵן בְּעִנְיְנֵי הַכְּשָׁפִים,כִּי הַבּוֹרֵא יִתְבָּרַךְ כַּאֲשֶׁר בָּרָא הַכֹּל מֵאַיִן עָשָׂה הָעֶלְיוֹנִים מַנְהִיגֵי הַתַּחְתּוֹנִים אֲשֶׁר לְמַטָּה מֵהֶן, וְנָתַן כֹּחַ הָאָרֶץ וְכָל אֲשֶׁר עָלֶיהָ בַּכּוֹכָבִים וּבַמַּזָּלוֹת לְפִי הַנְהָגָתָם וּמַבָּטָם בָּהֶם, כַּאֲשֶׁר הוּא מְנֻסֶּה בְּחָכְמַת הָאִצְטַגְנִינוּת, וְעָשָׂה עוֹד עַל הַכּוֹכָבִים וְהַמַּזָּלוֹת מַנְהִיגִים מַלְאָכִים וְשָׂרִים שֶׁהֵם נֶפֶשׁ לָהֶם.

And now, know and understand concerning the subject of sorcery, that when the Creator, blessed be He, created everything from nothing, He made the higher powers to be guides for those below them. …  one of His mighty wonders that within the power of these higher forces, He put configurations and capacities to alter the behavior of those under them.

The Ramban’s Position respects the simple meaning of the text. It also reflects a combination of humility, an admission of an incomplete understanding of how the world works, and an acceptance of the prevalent model of his time.

No one knows what can be done and what powers can be unleashed. In our world, we will consider those powers to be tapping nature and we would call the utilization  of those powers science.

I do not think that the limits of rationality have been reached. Great things remain to be discovered, explained, and utilized. But rationality is not enough to give me direction in this world. The Torah asks  that my opinions, that I consider rational, sometimes be abandoned. When the chapter talks about going to war, it instructs that the soldier not to consider  the relative strength of the opposing force but to believe that God will help him. I need that principle to guide many decisions.

Above all, I do not understand the world

 

 

 

 Re'eh: the vision of society

 The fifth book of the bible. Devarim, is Moshe's speech to the Israelites as the are about to enter the Promised Land.  The nation is about transition into a settled life.  Gd's promise is about to be fulfilled. Moshe's mission will end.  The nation is entering a land that Moshe will only see from a distance. 

As the book continues, the descriptions and instructions become more concrete.  The people are instructed in what may be done and what should not be done. In this week's parsha many of the instructions involve building and maintaining a unified people. 

I grew up balancing my Jewishness with being American. In the 1970's, until the ascendancy of America First in 2016, American values were close to universal values. The US stood for liberty for all; it was the country that did not tolerate  oppression; it offered refuge to the desperate; it fought against hunger and disease everywhere. The US was the capital of divine justice through kindness.  The institution that acted on these values, the American government , had rescued my parents from the holocaust, allowed them to rise from penniless poverty to middle class home-ownership and  retirement in Florida.  These were values I could not  reject.  Then came America first.  

America was spending more on European  military defense and the benefits were vague.  Why did the burdens of world hunger and disease fall (disproportionately) on Americans?  Cheaper (exploited) foreign labor was filling jobs that people (legitimately) born in this country could (theoretically) fill. All true. I question the need to look at it that way. But the questioning opened my eyes to some of the propaganda that substituted for truth in the descriptions of wars against communism in Asia and Latin America. I also saw the "rescue" of my parents in a new light: they were the fortunate exceptions. 

Jet travel and the internet created  markets  with billions of consumers and allowed the emergence of monopolies that could supply the whole world.  The (inevitable) Markov process that concentrates all wealth into one entity began. It is a process that is aided by nationalism of the rich and fought with the nationalism of the poor. 

And it all begins with our parsha. 

The parsha includes a dream of a centralized society, built around a capital city

The parsha imagines a society that merits the blessing of Gd. It cares for those who are excluded from economic opportunity because of circumstances (the widow, the orphan) or privilege ( the Levite). There is a great , centralized capital

Much of the parsha is deals with poverty. At one point we are presented with a contradiction:

אֶ֕פֶס כִּ֛י לֹ֥א יִֽהְיֶה־בְּךָ֖ אֶבְי֑וֹן There shall be no needy among you in 15;4 and

כִּ֛י לֹא־יֶחְדַּ֥ל אֶבְי֖וֹן מִקֶּ֣רֶב הָאָ֑רֶץ For there will never cease to be needy ones in your land, in 15;11

I do not want to resolve the contradiction by emphasizing the "among you," (Ibn Ezra's solution)  On can live in a neighborhood where the poor are banned, hence not visible (re'eh). This solution is an efes, a zero.

The subsequent verses state that the absence of the poor is predicated on adhering to the commandments. The commandments demand helping with the poor with loans, fair employment and support.  Fulfillment of these statutes would minimize the number of poor people.

I think that he word evyon is related to the word for stone, even. (Hebrew has strong letters that are full consonants and weaker letters, like yad and vav that are really vowels and thus, subject to omission. Omitting these letters from Evyon yields even - stone) There is an aspect of poverty that is stone-like: A degradation of worth, not meriting consideration, a fungible existence. These are the people stepped over (or stepped on).

Contrast this with another word for the poor: ani. This is a word that conveys the idea of begging. A merchant is sometimes called a canaani , perhaps because he entreats the purchaser. There are circumstances when people beg although they are not degraded; and there are certainly people in great need who do not beg. Both should be in our field of vision.

The word dal (which appears as part of the word yechdal in the second sentence) also means poor. Its fundamental meaning is lacking. It is the objective aspect of poverty.

In many parts of the world, starvation is limited to behaviors that seem volitional (although they are usually driven by psychiatric disease).  In my rich, American, world anyone who is starving and asks (begs) for food will be fed. In this sense, perhaps, there are no needy. The Utopian statement: there shall be no needy among you is fulfilled. But that does not seem sufficient. There is still lack (dal) and disrespect for the less fortunate and, perhaps worst of all, a failure to see the needs of the needy.

I enjoy the wealth of America. It allows me to feel generous.  I have enough that I can comfortably give. Perhaps this is not a sustainable situation, and fewer people will have "enough." There are also major problems with philanthropy: the voluntary (and arbitrary) distribution of (excess) wealth. The donor decides on the recipient(s). Some of the richest people in the world support exploration of Mars and beyond for eventual human settlement.  Maybe I cannot see far enough. Maybe they are too rich to see the needs of ordinary  contemporary earthlings. 

In all this, where does that Capital for the Jewish people sit.  I have been to the new Jerusalem. Those visits make me wonder what the prayer for "rebuilding Jerusalem" means.  I am not sure, but I still say it and I am glad.