nei i quarant’anni di peregrinazioni nel deserto, dopo l’uscita dalla schiavitù d’egitto, gli ebrei vissero nelle capanne e durante i loro spostamenti la nuvola della presenza divina li proteggeva e li accompagnava indicando loro il percorso.
ancora oggi gli ebrei di tutto il mondo si costruiscono delle capanne in ricordo di questo evento e vi trascorrono il maggior tempo possibile, qualcuno ci dorme, i più ci consumano i pasti principali. alla capanna si attribuisce un significato legato al senso di precarietà, le regole per la sua costruzione sono molto rigide e vanno in questa direzione: si deve abbandonare la sicurezza e la stabilità delle nostre case per abitare – per otto giorni – in questi ricoveri temporanei e strutturalmente precari, attraverso i quali si devono poter vedere le stelle.
nella discussione che fa la mishnà – la legge orale – viene riportato però il parere di rav yehudà che sostiene una tesi diametralmente opposta: la sukkà dovrebbe essere stabile. una tesi di minoranza, la sua.
di minoranza ma illuminante: che cos’è la stabilità? che cos’è la sicurezza? se le capanne simboleggiano la protezione divina allora rav yehudà forse vuole dirci che dovremmo ricercare altrove, dovremmo riuscire a sentire la presenza protettiva di dio come l’unica forma di stabilità e di sicurezza possibili.
adesso che sta per finire sukkòt. con l’augurio che questa sensazione si prolunghi il più possibile.
One of the cornerstones of Judaism is the possibility of Teshuva – return. Man is endowed with a divine spark which is manifest in his free choice: He can utilize his free choice to emulate God, to seek God. Alternatively man can choose to follow his baser side, and sin. At times, a conscious choice is made, while at times man is pulled as if by a magnet. His animal instincts control him, and he does not utilize his capacity to choose; rather, he chooses not to choose. The result is debasement, impurity and sin. When this happens man can wallow in sin and impurity, sinking to lower and lower levels, or man can choose to break the shackles of ignominy and seek God. At such times, man may identify a different magnet pulling him toward God and away from his own inconsistencies and spiritual pain. This process is known as Teshuva.
But is Teshuva always obtainable? Is it an inalienable right? Can we always return ? or can the abyss become so deep that there is no return? This question is discussed in the Talmud:
Scripture says, “None that go unto her return neither do they attain the paths of life.” (Mishlei 2:19) But if they do not return, how can they attain [the paths of life]? ? What it means is that even if they do turn away from it they will not attain the paths of life. Does it mean then that those who repent from idolatry die? [Avoda Zara 17a]
The Talmud teaches that not all sins can be erased. The spiritual scar can be too deep to be removed by mere regret; the penitent will perish, his penance notwithstanding. Why repent, then, if death will follow? Rashi grapples with this unavoidable question, and offers a new vantage point: In such a case, death is not necessarily a punishment, but a result of the struggle between good and evil waged within the penitent. The struggle to destroy the powerful evil inclination, which had enjoyed so many victories with this individual, will prove overwhelming for the spiritual resources this person has accrued, and the person will perish.
While death may be seen as the result of the return, death itself can bring about atonement(1) and the penitent can be assured a place in the world to come. In fact, a number of sources regard death as a necessary aspect of atonement in some cases.
R. Matthia b. Heresh asked R. Eleazar b. Azariah in Rome: Have you heard about the four kinds of sins, concerning which R. Ishmael has lectured? He answered: They are three, and with each is repentance connected – If one transgressed a positive commandment and repented, then he is forgiven, before he has moved from his place; as it is said: “Return, O backsliding children.” (Yirmiyahu 3:14). If he has transgressed a prohibition and repented, then repentance suspends [the punishment] and the Day of Atonement procures atonement, as it is said: “For on this day shall atonement be made for you … from all your sins.” (Vayikra 16:30) If he has committed [a sin to be punished with] extirpation or death through the Bet Din, and repented, then repentance and the Day of Atonement suspend [the punishment thereon], and suffering finishes the atonement, as it is said: “Then will I visit their transgression with the rod, and their iniquity with strokes” (Tehillim 89:43). But if he has been guilty of the profanation of the Name, then penitence has no power to suspend punishment, nor the Day of Atonement to procure atonement, nor suffering to finish it, but all of them together suspend the punishment and only death finishes it, as it is said: “And the Lord of hosts revealed Himself in my ears; surely this iniquity shall not be expiated by you till ye die.” (Yoma 86a)
Sin and the accompanying pleasure, cause damage to the soul. Some type of atonement is needed to recreate the delicate balance between body and soul. Different types of sin require different types of atonement. The worst type of sin – the desecration of God’s name – requires death as atonement.
The Talmud continues and recounts the story of a woman who apparently was guilty of idolatry among the host of sins she had committed:
Was there not that woman who came before R. Hisda confessing to him that the lightest sin that she committed was that her younger son was fathered of her older son? Whereupon R. Hisda said: Get busy in preparing her shrouds – but she did not die. Now, since she refers to her [immoral] act as the lightest sin, it may be assumed that she had also adopted idolatry [and yet she did not die]! – That one did not properly repent, that is why she did not die. (Avoda Zara 17a)
The thesis of the Talmud remains intact; returning from idolatry causes death (as atonement). In this case the Talmud insists that while she was guilty of idolatry, her return was not complete, nor sincere. Hence no death needed to immediately follow in order to guarantee atonement, for no atonement was forthcoming due to the lack of regret. The Talmud retells another version of the same story:
Some have this version: [Is it only] from idolatry that one dies if one repents, but not from other sins. Was there not that woman who came before R. Hisda who said, ‘Prepare her shrouds’ and she died? – Since she said [of her guilt] that it is one of the lightest, it may be assumed that she was guilty of idolatry also.
This woman did die; the Talmud’s thesis is upheld once again – return from idolatry causes death. The Talmud then explores whether idolatry is the only offense with this result and tells us an incredible tale:
And does not one die on renouncing sins other [than idolatry]? Surely it has been taught: It was said of R. Eleazar b. Dordaya that he did not leave out any harlot in the world without coming to her. Once, he heard that there was a certain prostitute in one of the towns by the sea who accepted a purse of coins for her hire. He took a purse of coins and crossed seven rivers for her sake. As he was with her, she blew forth breath and said: ‘As this blown breath will not return to its place, so will Eleazar b. Dordaya never be received in repentance.’ He thereupon went, sat between two hills and mountains and exclaimed: ‘O, ye hills and mountains, plead for mercy for me!’ They replied: ‘How shall we pray for thee? We stand in need of it ourselves, for it is said, “For the mountains shall depart and the hills be removed!” So he exclaimed: ‘Heaven and earth, plead for mercy for me!’ They, too, replied: How shall we pray for thee? We stand in need of it ourselves, for it is said, “For the heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax old like a garment.” He then exclaimed: ‘Sun and moon, plead for mercy for me!’ But they also replied: ‘How shall we pray for thee? We stand in need of it ourselves, for it is said, “Then the moon shall be confounded and the sun ashamed.” He exclaimed: Ye stars and constellations plead ye for mercy for me!’ Said they: ‘How shall we pray for thee? We stand in need of it ourselves, for it is said, “And all the hosts of heaven shall moulder away.” Said he: The matter then depends upon me alone! He placed his head between his knees, he wept aloud until his soul departed. Then a bat-kol was heard proclaiming: ‘Rabbi Eleazar b. Dordaya is destined for the life of the world to come!’(2) Now, here was a case of a sin [other than idolatry] and yet he did die! – In that case, too, since he was so much addicted to immorality it is as [if he had been guilty of] idolatry. Rabbi [on hearing of it] wept and said: One may acquire eternal life after many years, another in one hour! Rabbi also said: Not only are penitents accepted, they are even called ‘Rabbi’! [Avoda Zara 17a]
We are told of a habitual sinner who, remarkably, is introduced as “Rabbi”, although his behavior is not consistent with this appellation. Careful reading of the passage indicates that he is referred to as “Rabbi” posthumously, and only in retrospect. In life this man was indeed a sinner: he did not teach, nor even study.(3) His only concern was fulfilling his own sordid desires. Only in death does he become a Rabbi.(4)
Even with the issue of ordination cleared, the story remains difficult. What is the meaning of the bizarre behavior of the prostitute, and why does she say what she says? Why does he take her words so seriously? What is the meaning of his conversation with the mountains and hills, the sun and moon and stars? Why does he merit to be called Rabbi? And finally, why does he die?
Whether his dialogue with hills and mountains is real or imagined,(5) it provides a fascinating description of what Teshuva is not. The rejection of his impassioned plea leaves us with the understanding that the answer to man’s prayers does not lie in the forces of nature: When it comes to repentance or return, nature cannot help man. The image is stark: Here is a man who succumbed to his own base nature. His desires dictated the type of man he would be, and the forces of nature cannot lead him to spiritual healing.
The message is essential to our understanding the dynamics of Teshuva: Teshuva is not made of worldly stuff. The secret of Teshuva does not lie within the cosmos. Teshuva is metaphysical. It was created before the physical world.(6) Teshuva is a return to God; as God transcends time space and matter, man who forges a relationship with God can transcend his past. This concept can be described utilizing a mathematical formula: Infinite plus finite remains infinite.(7) Reality is God. Only this infinite reality existed before the creation of our physical, limited world. The only aspect of our existence that is “real” is that which is in relationship with this infinite reality – God. Finite man who has a relationship with the infinite God can thus move beyond the physical boundaries of time and space to transcend the mistakes of his past. What is real is the present relationship with God.
Eleazar approaches nature but his efforts are rejected. As far as nature is concerned, man today may stop doing what he did yesterday; rehabilitation is possible, but Teshuva, metaphysical cleansing and healing, is not.
Let us now return to an earlier part of the story. At the point of rapture, air escapes from the woman, and she looks at her client Eleazar and says, “As this air will not return to its place, so will Eleazar b. Dordaya never be received in repentance.” Her behavior and words confound us. Does she discuss the spiritual status of all her clients? Is such a service included in her price? The word used in the text is heficha; Rashi explains that a wind (or spirit – Hebrew word is ruach) blew forth. The first time a derivative of heficha is used in the Torah is when man is given his soul.
“And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed (vayipach) into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.” (Bereishit 2:7)
Apparently what this woman is saying is that his soul had become impossibly soiled.(8) Her motivation is obscure: Perhaps, being accustomed to having total control of her body and suddenly, unexpectedly, losing that control, enables her to recognize that Eleazar is lost in a similar way.(9) This shocks Eleazar: He always thought of himself as redeemable; he probably didn’t think he was all that bad. He probably told himself that he was a decent fellow who just likes to party a bit, never noticing the extent to which he had deteriorated spiritually. He thought of himself as a basically decent person who would always be able to mend his ways. Suddenly, this woman’s cynical laugh tells him that he is hopeless. He is devastated by the mere thought and decides, then and there, to seek change.
He seeks a way back but is told that he is hopelessly degenerate, suffering from malignant deterioration. This may be the meaning of his name ‘Ben Durdaya’ – the son of hitdardarut, the one who deteriorated further and further until all seemed lost.(10)
His first name, though, is Eleazar, which means ‘God can help’. No matter how far any sinner deteriorates he remains Eleazar, God can always help. When he walks away from the prostitute, separating himself from his sin, he seeks purity, not mere rehabilitation. He wants his soul to be pure again, as pure as it was the day he was born. He turns to nature in an attempt to turn back the clock, but is told that such a request is impossible. Nature can neither control nor impact the past.
When he makes his plea to nature, Eleazar repeatedly beseeches: “Ask for mercy for me”, the Hebrew word being rachamim. The root of this word is ReCheM, which can also be rendered ‘womb’: rachmanut is the type of mercy a mother has for her child – it is almost unlimited. But when we recall that this is a man who has slept with countless women we realize that the term rachamim also describes the area and nature of his sin. He wants to go back to the moment of birth, to start all over again. He wants purity.
This explains his next action: “He placed his head between his knees, he wept aloud until his soul departed.” Eleazar assumes a “fetal” position and then cries until his soul departs. He symbolically reverses the process of birth and life in an effort to achieve the purity possessed by a soul when it is brand new. Though nature shunned him he knew that he possessed within himself the ability to find peace and serenity. He says “The matter then depends upon me alone”. (11) The “me” is Eleazar, the individual whom God can help despite the deterioration, the individual who has a divine soul, no matter how soiled it has become, no matter how degenerate, who always has the capacity for Teshuva.
This is why he is called “Rabbi”: He teaches us a valuable lesson, that Teshuva is always possible even if death is the result. He does not let the naysayers sway him from a path of holiness, and he does not let his years of corruption prevent his pursuit of holiness. He does not allow his past to destroy his future, and in one glorious moment, he finally understands why he was born and seeks God with all his heart and all his soul – even to the point of losing his life.(12)
While his gesture is grand and his resolve admirable, why did he need to die? The Talmud says that his corruption was so all-consuming, his indulgence so addictive, that it was as if he was an idolater. He worshipped(13) his own lust with all his heart and all his soul and all his possessions. He was willing to cross seven(14) rivers; he took all the money that was required, for his soul was consumed by his addiction. In order to be healed he needed to use the same forces: he now needed to serve God with all his heart all his soul and all his possessions. Perhaps this intense reversal is what led to his death. Perhaps his death was actually a kindness(15) on the part of God; for such a corrupt man to have reached a spiritual high is quite impressive, but how would this man conduct himself on a day-to-day basis? With his addiction subdued or under control, what would his life have been? Would he have been able to sustain this religious high with any consistency? Or was death an escape? Perhaps the only way he would gain a share in the world to come was by leaving the world at the time of his pinnacle, the moment he cried and achieved purity.
Our conclusion must be that Teshuva is always possible, though at times the effects of sin are so profound that they cannot be elevated. Death alone brings atonement. The uplifting message of the story, indeed the message and teaching of Rabbi Eleazar ben Durdaya, is that Teshuva is always accessible, purity always possible, a share in the world to come always available, even for the worst of sinners.(16)
NOTES
1. See Mishna Makkot 3:15 (23a). (return to text)
2. The Arizal in Likutei Halachot says that Eliezer ben Durdaya was a reincarnation of Yochanan Kohen Gadol who spent his entire life as a righteous man and served as Kohen Gadol for 80 years, only to leave the path of Torah and became a heretic. This soul was possessed by Eleazar who spent his entire life as a sinner, until his last breath when he repented. For more on Yochanan Kohen Gadol see Emanations pages 249-258. (return to text)
3. His name is never mentioned again in rabbinic literature, no teaching is recorded in his name, no students or teachers are mentioned. (return to text)
4. Rav Moshe Feinstein makes this point as well, and insists that the use of “Rabbi” here is a posthumous title, never enjoyed in life. Iggrot Moshe Yore Deah Volume One, Section 135. (return to text)
5. Tosfot Chullin 7a says that it was an imaginary conversation which transpired only in the mind of Eleazar. (return to text)
6. See Bereishit Rabbah 1:4, Zohat Bereishit page 134b, for more on this topic see Emanations page 187f. (return to text)
7. See Explorations, Parshat Vayakhel. (return to text)
8. Rav Yehonatan Eibeshitz says that her intention is to dissuade him from repenting, that he may as well not bother. (return to text)
9. This suggestion is made by the Ben Yehoyada. (return to text)
10. I heard this suggestion said in the name of Rav Yehuda Amital. Also see Siftei Chaim by Rav Chaim Freidlander (volume one page 3) while he doesn’t openly make the suggestion it is implied. The Maharal (Netiv HaTeshuva chapter 8, and Chidushei Aggadot Avoda Zara) identifies the name with the Aramaic meaning of spoiled grapes. (return to text)
11. See Siftei Chaim by Rav Chaim Freidlander who develops this point. (return to text)
12. Halachic authorities debate whether such a death constitutes suicide. See Respona Shvut Yaakov Volume 2 section 111, where in the context of discussing the suicide of a repentant sinner who sought his “deserved” punishment he introduces the example of Eleazar ben Durdaya and says this was not a case of suicide. He brings the commentary of Rashi from the start of the passage, who explains the death of the sinner who repents as being the result of a broken heart, but not suicide. Also see Shem Gedolim section “Yud” subsection 17. (return to text)
13. When the Talmud says he heard of a certain prostitute, the Hebrew word is Shoma, which is spelled the same as Shema, the commandment to believe in one God, and the verse in the Torah that preceeds the command to love God with all one’s heart soul, and possessions. (return to text)
14. The number seven often refers to the totality of the physical world. (return to text)
15. Rav Menashe Klein came to the same conclusion, that his death was a kindness on God’s part. See Mishne Halachot volume 13 section 214. (return to text)
16. The Shelah Hakadosh makes this point regarding Eleazar ben Durdaya and says therefore even Elisha ben Avuya could have repented – even though a voice from heaven told him not to bother. Shaar Otiot Emek Bracha. (return to text)
By Rabbi Marc D. Angel
The root of deepest human sadness is embodied in the word “separation.” We feel this sadness especially at moments of transition: when we say goodbye to a child who is leaving for college or moving out of town; when we say goodbye to a loved one whom we won’t be seeing for a long time. Parents cry at the weddings of their children. Their tears, to be sure, are tears of happiness; yet, they are also tears of pathos, of separation.
There is the poignant separation of divorce, of breaking off close relationships; and the ultimate separation of death. Saying goodbye to a dying parent, spouse, relative or friend must be counted among the saddest of human experiences.
It is at moments of separation that we feel our emotions surging in uncontrollable waves. We are at our best and at our worst. We come to recognize that we are not in control of everything, that we cannot hold things still, freeze time, freeze relationships. We cannot prevent death.
“Reunion” and reconciliation are at the root of the deepest human joy and satisfaction. Seeing a loved one after years of separation, reuniting with family and friends–these experiences bring tears of happiness. We feel the completeness of our lives. Things are now right. The joys of reunion are implied by our belief in an afterlife where we will ultimately be reunited with loved ones who have passed on. Death, in other words, is not a final separation. It, too, will be followed eventually by reunion.
Separation and reunion seem like opposites. They are not. They are two sides of one coin, two harmonious notes in the rhythm of life. One without the other is impossible, just as it is impossible for there always to be light and no darkness, always sunshine and no rain.
The three themes in the Musaf of Rosh Hashanah may be considered in light of the themes of separation and reunion. The first section describes God as King, the Being that has control over life and death. When we contemplate this image of God, we react with fear, with a sense of separation. We realize that we are not ultimately in control of our lives–God is. We feel awed by God’s power, we feel separated, even alienated.
The next theme, though, is “zikhronot”–God remembers. He acts with kindness. God is a compassionate Parent who is concerned with our lives. We are not forgotten or forsaken. Our lives are not random or anonymous. We are remembered, we are brought closer to God and to each other.
The third theme, “shofarot”, serves as a bridge between the poles of separation and reunion. The shofar reminds us of the akedah story, a symbol of separation, where a father was to sacrifice his beloved son. Abraham, alone with Isaac on a forsaken mountain, realizes that God is the ultimate king with control over life and death.
But the shofar is also reminiscent of the revelation at Mt. Sinai. At that time, the Israelites were crowded together, united, touching shoulders. There was reconciliation between the people and God.
Rosh Hashana reminds us of the root of our greatest sadness and our greatest happiness. Memories of past separations come to mind, memories that will never leave us and that we experience intensely. But we also experience reunion. We are together in the synagogue. Members of our family have returned; friends and neighbors have come together. We are glad.
Separation is an inevitable part of life. The family and the community help us deal with these separations as best we can. A synagogue provides us the opportunity to pray and to study together, to increase our happiness, to enable us to participate in acts of kindness, caring and sharing.
We seldom have the power to prevent separation and the anguish that goes with it. But we do have the possibility of increasing our sense of completeness by uniting with our family, loved ones, friends; by sharing, encouraging, by being part of the life of our community. Separation and sadness often come of themselves. Reunion and reconciliation require us to take the initiative.
It is the beginning of a New Year. The rhythm of life and death continues, the rhythm of separation and reunion. Let us be strong in facing the challenges and losses that confront us. Let us gain strength from reuniting with family and friends–and with God.
it happens! yesterday evening a gentleman was calling at nonna betta to make a reservation and, with a very elegant tone of voice, did ask me if a dress code was required. keeping from laughing i said no. at this point he, after to have suggested different “codes”, at last opted for a “smart casual”.
by Rabbi Ya’aqob Menashe
The Rambam (Maimonides) in Hilkhoth Teshubah (the laws of repentance), states that when an individual’s sins are being weighed on one side of the scale, against his merits on the other side, the sins that he committed once or twice are not added to the side of the sins. However, if the sins that he committed three times or more are found to be more numerous than his merits, then even the sins that he committed once or twice, which were originally omitted, are now added to the others and he is judged on all of them.
If, on the other hand, a person’s merits are found to be equal to or more numerous than the sins he committed three or more times, G-d forgives all his sins in the following manner:
Since the sins committed once or twice were not included, the ones committed three times are now considered the “first” and are forgiven. Since they have now been forgiven, a sin committed four times is now considered to be a “first” and is also forgiven. And so it continues till all the sins have been forgiven.
(See Rambam, Hilkhoth Teshubah, 3:5)
quoting my friends – the spizzichino sisters – il blog delle ragazze, i want to speak about this idea that was in my mind since long time ago. this is the idea: to manufacture kippot whole made by hair. a kind of tonsure but like a negative photography. this solution, i agree, may be against aesthetics.
then, seeing that jewish men must always wear the kippah, in particular in study halls and places of prayer, i did think to a real toupee with a label. on the label it is written – as magritte did – “this is not a toupee”.
in this way people who has been quitted by their hair can’t be ridiculed.
Thoughts on Parashat Shofetim, September 3, 2011
By Rabbi Marc D. Angel
Professor Eliezer Schnall of Yeshiva University, and his student Michael Greenberg, presented a paper at the annual convention of the American Psychological Association on August 7, 2011. They discussed an influential theory developed by the psychologist Irving Janis, known as “groupthink”.
Janis posited that tight-knit, smart and well-informed cliques can suppress dissent and create a “groupthink” phenomenon—where the general public goes along with the ideas of the inner power group. People either come to accept the dictates of the power group, or they are de-legitimized or ostracized. Dissent is crushed. Open and free discussion is not tolerated.
Dr. Schnall demonstrated how the deleterious effects of “groupthink” were consciously counteracted by the methods of operation of the Sanhedrin, the classic judicial system of ancient Israel. For example, when discussing cases in the Sanhedrin, the judges of lesser authority spoke first. The more senior judges offered their own opinions later.
This system was adopted in order to ensure free and open discussion. If the veteran “expert” judges spoke first, the other judges might be reluctant to express disagreement with them. The result would be “groupthink”—control of discussion by a small, powerful clique.
The Sanhedrin sought to avoid becoming insular. Outside experts were consulted. Disciples who watched the proceedings were allowed to offer their opinions. If the Sanhedrin reached a unanimous guilty verdict in capital cases, the defendant was acquitted! It was assumed that absence of dissension meant that group conformity was operating and that the defendant did not have a fair trial.
“Groupthink” is a highly dangerous phenomenon. It arrogates considerable authority into the hands of a small inner circle, and essentially causes the public to conform to the views of this power clique. This is the method employed by tyrannies. This is the method that enables small elite groups to impose their views on a passive or frightened public. “Groupthink” is quite evident in anti-Jewish and anti-Israel propaganda and in the “politically correct” movement. Individuals stop thinking for themselves, stop demanding facts, stop evaluating the “truths” that are imposed on them. If they resist the pressures of “groupthink,” they risk being branded as social and intellectual outcasts. They risk being isolated and ostracized.
In this week’s Torah portion, we read that the courts are to pursue justice, tsedek tsedek tirdof. Many commentators have understood this phrase to mean: you must pursue justice in a just way. The search for truth must be conducted in an open and free environment, without coercion or intimidation. People must feel free to offer their insights and opinions, and must not succumb to “groupthink.” Discussion and dissension are to be encouraged, not stifled.
Manifestations of “groupthink” are ubiquitous in our society, and it requires considerable astuteness and courage to resist its pressures. “Groupthink” is increasingly evident in religious life, where small groups of clerics/intellectuals seek to impose their narrow views on the public. They state what is “true” and expect the public to go along with their pronouncements. Those who don’t follow the dictates of the power group are branded as heretics. The tyranny of “groupthink” is rampant in religious fundamentalist circles of whatever religion. Small cliques of “authorities” are granted incredible status, bordering on or including infallibility, and they proclaim what is “true” and what is “heresy.” Discussion, debate, and dissent are ruled out. Woe unto the person who does not conform in thought or behavior to the dictates of the “authorities.”
If “groupthink” is highly dangerous for society at large, it is perhaps even more pernicious for religious life. It injects a spiritual poison into religion, gradually sapping religious life of vitality, creativity, dynamism. Instead of fostering a spirit of discussion and free inquiry, it demands a ruthless conformity.
Instead of empowering religious people to think and analyze and debate, it forces religious people to stop thinking independently, to refrain from analysis and debate, and to suppress any ideas that do not conform to the framework of “groupthink.” It insists on abject obedience to “authorities”—even when we don’t agree with them, even when we don’t acknowledge them as our “authorities,” even when we are convinced that these “authorities” are leading the public in an entirely incorrect direction.
If we are to be responsible individuals, we must resist the tyranny of “groupthink.” We must insist on the freedom to think for ourselves, to evaluate ideas independently, to stand up against coercion and intimidation. We must strive for a religious life that is alive and dynamic.
We must pursue truth and justice in a true and just way.
Re’eh (Deuteronomy 11:26-16:17)
A Blessing and a Curse
‘See! I give you today (a choice of) a blessing and a curse. The blessing, when you listen to the commandments of God your Lord, which I command you today. The curse, if you do not listen to the commandments of God your Lord, and you deviate from the path which I command you today, in order to follow other gods which you did not know.’ (Deut. 11:26-28)
This week’s Torah portion begins with Moses placing before the people two choices: a blessing or a curse. These will be the results of following the word of God or alternatively abandoning the word of God and embarking on a path leading to idolatry.
These beginning verses encapsulate what follows. Much of this Torah portion is a polemic against idolatry, but in order to understand this, we first need to better understand the choice, i.e. the difference between the blessing and the curse.
Later on in this soliloquy, Moses describes the catastrophes and horrors which will inevitably result from deviation from the teachings of God:
‘And God will get exceedingly angry with that land, to bring upon it all the curses written in this book … And behold when all these things befall you, the blessing and the curse which I placed before you …’ (Deut. 29:26 and 30:1)
Then the text concludes with these immortal words:
‘See I have placed before you today life and good, and death and evil … I call upon heaven and earth to witness against you, life and death I have placed in front of you, the blessing and the curse – choose life in order that you and your children can live! (Deut. 30:19)
This text bears remarkable similarity with the beginning of our Torah portion, where the same formula was used: “See I have placed before you.” But here the text identifies the blessing with life, and the curse with death.
This, then, is the real choice for man: life or death.
This, then, is the real choice for man: life or death.
It is hard to imagine a more stark distinction than that between life and death. They stand at the opposite poles of the human experience. Why would anyone choose death over life? It would seem totally illogical.
Certainly, there are people for whom life becomes too painful, and they might choose to avoid their pain – some might choose drugs, while others go one step further and choose suicide/death. There are also those who seek to dull the reality of life, others choose to avoid life completely. But these are clearly maladjusted individuals. Why would the Torah have to speak at such great length about psychological maladies?
* * *
THE PRIMAL CHOICE
The choice between life and death has a famous parallel which was presented to man at the very dawn of existence:
And God the Lord caused to grow from the ground every pleasant tree to the sight and good to eat, and the Tree of Life was in the Garden (of Eden) and the Tree of Knowledge of good and evil … And God the Lord took Adam and placed him in the Garden of Eden, to work it and to guard it. And God the Lord commanded Adam saying: ‘From every tree in the Garden you shall eat. But from the Tree of Knowledge of good and evil, do not eat from it, for on the day that you eat from it you shall surely die.’ (Genesis 2:9,16-17)
One tree is associated with life, the other with death. Clearly, no sane person would choose death over life, unless, of course, there is a serpent whispering seductive thoughts, leading the listener to self destruction.
We continue to listen to the devious serpents, urging us to eat of the tree of death.
This description is a paradigm for all humanity. We have all been placed in a Garden of Eden, life and death presented before us, and we are told by God to choose life. But alas, we continue to listen to the devious serpents, real or imagined, encouraging us to partake of the tree of death, despite the manifold curses which accompany that choice.
The world, from its very inception, was created with choices. Ultimately, these choices are between life and death, but rarely do people see their choices in such terms. The possibility for evil or pain is part of the process of creation, or, perhaps, is a result of creation:
And, behold, it was very good … And, behold, it was good [in the Book of Genesis] alludes to the creation of man and the Good Inclination, and “very” alludes to the Evil Inclination. Is, then, the Evil Inclination “very good”? It is, in truth, to teach you that were it not for the Evil Inclination, no one would build a house, marry and beget children. (Kohelet Rabba 3:15)
The very creation includes the evil inclination, and without it one cannot speak of the world being very good. The possibility of evil is an essential part of the creation. This idea is expressed most clearly in this passage in the Book of Isaiah:
‘I am the Lord, and there is no one else, there is no God beside me; I girded you, though you have not known me. That they may know from the rising of the sun, and from the west, that there is none beside me. I am the Lord, and there is no one else. I form the light, and create darkness; I make peace, and create evil; I the Lord do all these things.’ (Isaiah 45:5-7)
Here, in unequivocal terms, God, “takes credit” for all phenomena, good and evil. To ascribe these things to any other power would necessarily impinge on the idea of monotheism. All things come from God.
* * *
BUT WHY?
But why would God create a world with these things? Furthermore, how can the Midrash label these things as “very good”? How can a God who is all good, who defines good, cause evil?
On the one hand, we can appreciate that if all things come from heaven – including pain and punishment – all of these things are motivated by God’s absolute love for us. As a parent must discipline their children, so does God treat us. It seems clear that if a parent responds to a child’s anti-social behavior with rewards, the child will most likely become a sociopath. Likewise, if God responds to the anti-social behavior of the masses with rewards and gifts, an entire generation or nation of sociopaths would result.
But there is more to it.
The verse cited above from Isaiah deserve a second reading. Close inspection of the text offers a fascinating insight. Light is formed, while darkness is created; peace is made while evil is created.
What is the difference between “formation” versus “creation”? Formation indicates an appearance of “something from something,” while creation indicates ex nihilo – “something from nothing.”
Despite the fact that evil was created by God, it does not emanate from God.
We may learn from careful examination of Isaiah’s words that light, or good, is derived/formed from a primordial source – from God, while evil is created. Despite the fact that evil was created by God, it does not emanate from God. Light is refracted from the supernal good, while the result of a separate act of creation results in the appearance of something new, not part of God, called evil.
The mystics described this process as tzimtzum, Divine contraction. This process of creation allows the appearance of something other than God, which needed to be created because it did not exist in God’s sphere. This concept is encapsulated in a one-line phrase in the Midrash:
No evil descends from heaven.
(Yalkut Shimoni Va’era 186)
The Midrash is clearly aware of the verse in Isaiah cited above, but simply assumes, as we do, that creation differs from formation; therefore, evil does not emanate from heaven, rather it is a by-product of creation.
Likewise, commenting on our Torah portion, Rabbi Chaim of Allepo (a student of Rabbi Chaim Vital) noted:
See! I give you today (literally, ‘I place before you’) a blessing and a curse. ‘Before you’ and not ‘on you,’ for no evil descends from heaven, rather it is placed before you. The choice is yours. (Torat Haham 419:3)
* * *
IS GOD COMPLETELY GOOD?
In a certain sense, this may sound like theological double talk. In a lengthy passage, the Zohar addresses this question:
True love of the Holy One, blessed be He, consists in just this, that we give over to Him all our emotional, intell, and material faculties and possessions, and love Him. Should it be asked: How can a man love Him with the evil inclination? Is not the evil inclination, the seducer, preventing man from approaching the Holy One to serve Him? How, then, can man use the evil inclination as an instrument of love to God? The answer lies in this, that there can be no greater service done to the Holy One than to bring into subjection the evil inclination by the power of love to the Holy One, blessed be He. For, when it is subdued and its power broken by man in this way, then he becomes a true lover of the Holy One, since he has learnt how to make the evil inclination itself serve the Holy One.
Here is a mystery entrusted to the masters of esoteric lore. All that the Holy One has made, both above and below, is for the purpose of manifesting His glory and to make all things serve Him. Now, would a master permit his servant to work against him, and to continually lay plans to counteract his will? It is the will of the Holy One that men should worship Him and walk in the way of truth that they may be rewarded with many benefits. How, then, can an evil servant come and counteract the will of his Master by tempting man to walk in an evil way, seducing him from the good way and causing him to disobey the will of his Lord? But, indeed, the evil inclination also does through this the will of its Lord.
It is as if a king had an only son whom he dearly loved, and just for that cause he warned him not to be enticed by bad women, saying that anyone defiled might not enter his palace. The son promised his father to do his will in love. Outside the palace, however, there lived a beautiful harlot. After a while the king thought: “I will see how far my son is devoted to me.” So he sent to the woman and commanded her, saying: “Entice my son, for I wish to test his obedience to my will.” So she used every blandishment to lure him into her embraces. But the son, being good, obeyed the commandment of his father. He refused her allurements and thrust her from him. Then did the father rejoice exceedingly, and, bringing him in to the innermost chamber of the palace, bestowed upon him gifts from his best treasures, and showed him every honor. And who was the cause of all this joy? The harlot! Is she to be praised or blamed for it? To be praised, surely, on all accounts, for on the one hand she fulfilled the king’s command and carried out his plans for him, and on the other hand she caused the son to receive all the good gifts and deepened the king’s love to his son.
Therefore it is written, “And the Lord saw all that he had made, and behold it was very good”, where the word “very” refers to the angel of death (i.e. the evil inclination). Similarly, if it were not for this accuser, the righteous would not possess the supernal treasures in the world to come. Happy, therefore, are they who, coming into conflict with the tempter, prevail against him, for through him will they attainvbliss, and all the good and desirable possessions of the world to come. (Zohar, Sh’mot, Sec. 2, p. 163b)
The Zohar, in this remarkable passage, describes in the clearest of terms how it is possible for the “king” – a metaphor for God – to allow this scenario to unfold outside the palace. The impetus for evil is the king’s will. The king wishes for evil to be rejected, but this is not possible within the palace walls. Likewise, man prior to creation possesses a soul, but no free choice. He lives in the palace. Outside the palace, in this world, temptation exists – in order to be rejected.
Evil can be said to be good “incognito.”
Ultimately, all temptation is sent by God in order to be rejected. Therefore, evil can be said to be good “incognito.” Despite the allure of desire at the moment of passion, the sinner will one day come to realize that what he embraced is merely an emissary of the king/God which was meant to be rejected. This is the meaning of the Midrash, “No evil descends from heaven.”
Likewise, now we can understand how the term “very good” may apply to the evil inclination. By rejecting the evil inclination, man is enabled to reach a spiritual level unattainable in heaven, where only good is a reality. The Talmud adds that this is the desire of the Satan:
Rabbi Levi said: “Both Satan and Peninah had a pious purpose [in acting as adversaries]. Satan, when he saw God inclined to favor Job said, ‘Far be it that God should forget the love of Abraham.’ Of Peninah it is written, ‘And her rival provoked her sore for to make her fret.’” When Rabbi Aha ben Jacob gave this exposition in Papunia, Satan came and kissed his feet. (Baba Bathra 16a)
We further understand that our view of the world is somewhat skewed. We see evil as a reality, thus failing to realize that it is actually a servant of the King “dressed up.” Evil, by virtue of being a “creation,” does not really exist in the palace of God. Rather, it is the result of an act creation and will one day dissipate.
* * *
WHO IS SATAN?
But what is the evil inclination? The Talmud identifies it with other known adversaries:
Resh Lakish said: “Satan, the Evil Inclination, and the Angel of Death are all one.” (Baba Bathra 16a)
These three forces are instilled in the world as part of a cosmic balancing act, in order to give man free choice. The verse which we began with “See! I give you today a blessing and a curse” is only relevant if man has free choice.
Man’s evil inclination does not necessarily work by calling upon man to perform objectively evil deeds. Any action which distances man from God is sought out by the evil inclination. Furthermore, at times the choices with which man is faced are both positive, but one will bring man closer to God than the other.
In such cases, the evil inclination is particularly insidious, for man himself may be unsure which choice represents the good inclination, and which the evil. The litmus test must always be which of these choices will bring the individual closer to God. The Talmud expresses this succinctly:
If God created the Evil Inclination, He also created the Torah as its antidote. (Baba Bathra 16a)
The Torah is the only objective source which we possess which forces man to follow the good inclination. Following its rules, laws, morals, and systems of prioritizing, is what enables man to define right and wrong, and therefore to choose right from wrong. There are often situations which seem to fall in the “gray area.” It is precisely in such cases that we must remind ourselves that the Torah defines “right” and “wrong.”
Now we can return to this week’s Torah portion. One of the major attractions of idolatry was the possibility for local worship, “under every leafy tree” (Deut. 12:2). The motivation of such worship was immediate gratification, which resulted from man worshipping his own desires, and not God. We can appreciate how individuals who followed idolatrous practices could have deceived themselves into thinking that it was God that they were serving, here and now.
The Torah instead calls upon man to practice a centralized religion with its spiritual capital in a chosen place (Deut. 12:5). This would force man to objectify his religious practice and take it out of the realm of instinct.
How was the individual, who felt a burning need inside to reach out to God, to know if his desire emanated from a place of holiness, or self-destruction? The only possible answer is to follow the rules set out in the Torah.
If the “prophet” encourages practices alien to the Torah, he is to be executed.
How can we, as individuals, know if an apparently holy person is “the real thing” or a false prophet, a charlatan? Again, the objective system is Torah: If the “prophet” encourages practices alien to the Torah, he is to be executed.
At times, though, such issues are not as black and white as we would like. Once we realize that the evil inclination entices with arguments and experiences which are not intrinsically, objectively evil but are simply not the best way to relate to God, we are armed for this mortal spiritual combat.
Ultimately, the evil inclination leads to self-deception and destru. The choice between life and death is the result of the battle, but far more often than not, the battle is waged in more innocuous settings. The people entering the land would only be spiritually armed for the ensuing battles if they were made aware that a spiritual battleground awaited them, and they were armed with the ability to be victorious:
‘See I have placed before you today life and good, and death and evil … I call upon heaven and earth to witness against you, life and death I have placed in front of you, the blessing and the curse – choose life in order that you and your children can live! (Deut. 30:19)
Indeed, let us choose life, the Tree of Life – the words of the Living God – let us choose life!
Sorry, this entry is only available in Italiano.
i also like to talk about other things, not only about jewish artichokes, restaurants, jewish roman cuisine, kosher food…
for a better view of the image
« Newer Posts — Older Posts »
