Parashat Tazria-Metzora meets Corona

Hebrew

The double portion Tazria-Metzora is unparalleled in its ability to dissuade us of any notion that the Torah is interested only in lofty matters. The Torah is emphatically concerned with the most physical components of human life, and in great detail. We aren’t always comfortable with that realization. When we study Torah or listen to the Torah reading in the synagogue, we often want an escape from our routine and disconnect from painful, dirty and abhorrent things. We are not alone in that. Similar discomfort may be the reason (or at least one of the reasons) that the Midrash, and many rabbis ever after, take the word “metzora” out of context, separate the syllables, and read it as “motzi shem ra – speaking slanderously” (Leviticus Rabba 15:6). The portion then becomes an opportunity to speak against slander and gossip, undoubtedly an important subject in all times and places, but an evasion nonetheless.

Therefore, I reread the portion in hopes that some point of interest would emerge. Leviticus 14:3, struck a chord, “Behold, it is healed.” As I write this during the intermediary days of Passover, we, and the entire world, are thirsty for “Behold, it is healed,” for the good news of a cure. I continued to read. The details of the Biblical purification process are so far removed from Alcogel and face masks that I was tempted to write about gossip.

No. There is indeed something important here for us here. The afflicted person was separated from the community and lived in isolation until the disease was healed. The priest, in his paramedical role, confirms the patient’s health, but the patient does not return to the community immediately, as if nothing had happened.[*] There needs to be a transition and transitions takes time. Restoration can’t be instant. Something has indeed happened.

We entered the regime of physical distancing, sheltering in place and quarantine gradually. On Purim we met as a community, almost as usual, but some members were already in quarantine, and so we broadcast the morning service and Megillah reading on Facebook Live. The next Shabbat, there was no kiddush (!!). The following Monday, we decided in advance who would leave if 11 people showed up for minyan. It has now been more than a month since we met as a community in one physical space. We keep in touch through amazing technological means, but there is distance and disconnection. Something is changing; I dare say, we are all changing, even if only slightly and subconsciously. When the day comes that we hear the words, “Behold, it is healed,” and social distancing ends, we ought to be aware that not everything will necessarily revert to its previous state, as if nothing happened. When we meet in person again, when we can shake hands and even hug, I hope that we will also be sensitive to whatever changes have occurred, no matter how subtle.

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[*] This idea was inspired by R. Avital Hochstein, “Community and Corona” [Hebrew].

Photo: Electron microscope image of 2019-nCoV, the virus that causes COVID-19 from National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID) on Flickr

Ki Tissa: God’s 13 Attributes in Prayer and Action

עברית

On Mount Sinai, the Eternal presented Godself not only as “the Eternal your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt”(Exodus 20:2) but also as “an impassioned (or “jealous”) God, visiting the guilt of the parents upon the children, upon the third and upon the fourth generations of those who reject Me but showing kindness to the thousandth generation of those who love Me and keep My commandments” (vv. 5-6). Moreover, God sets an unambiguous condition forbidding the making of any visual image of Divinity.

The order is unequivocal, but only forty days later, the whole deal falls apart. Their anxiety when faced with Moses’s delay in returning to the camp causes the people to demand a physical representation instead of an abstract deity. Aaron succumbs to public pressure, and before long the people are dancing around a golden calf. Given the terms of the covenant set at Sinai, God’s immense wrath is unsurprising. God’s immediate response is a desire to destroy the people, and start over with Moses. Only the courageous mediation of Moses, who demonstrates double loyalty – to God and to the people – saves us and the punishment stops short of complete annihilation (See Exodus 32 for details).

At this point, God realizes (as God also did after the flood) that even divinely-created humans are unable to function as God desires, and therefore it is necessary to moderate the terms of the covenant:

The Eternal passed before him and proclaimed: “The Eternal! the Eternal! a God who compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, extending kindness to the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin; but does not remit all punishment, rather visits the iniquity of parents upon children and children’s children, upon the third and fourth generations.” (Exodus 34:6-7)

Considering the people’s proven weakness, the emphasis here is not on the Eternal’s impassioned jealousy but rather on God’s graciousness.
At Sinai, “visiting the guilt of the parents upon the children” preceded “showing kindness to the thousandth generation of those who love Me and keep My commandments.”
Now “extending kindness to the thousandth generation” and “forgiving iniquity, transgression and sin” precede “does not remit all punishment, but visits the iniquity of parents upon children...” Moreover, God’s graciousness is no longer limited to those who keep the commandments. It is now extended to all.

The expansion of God’s grace serves as the backdrop for far-reaching statements by Rabbi Yohanan and Rabbi Yehuda:

Rabbi Yoḥanan said: Were it not explicitly written in the verse, it would be impossible to say this, as it would be insulting to God’s honor. The verse teaches that the Holy Blessed One, wrapped Godself in a prayer shawl like a prayer leader and showed Moses the structure of the order of the prayer. He said to him: Every time the Jewish people sin, let them act before Me in accordance with this order, and I will forgive them. The Eternal, the Eternal [is repeated because] I am God before and after a person sins and does repents, because God is always merciful and gracious.
Rabbi Yehuda said: A covenant made with the thirteen attributes will not return empty. (emphasis SMZ; Babylonian Talmud Rosh Hashanah 17b).

On the basis of these statements, Exodus 34:6-7a became the foundation upon which the Seliḥot prayers for forgiveness are built, and we return to them repeatedly. The words in bold seemingly promise that reciting these 13 Attributes together, in a praying community, will always lead to the desired result, our sins will be forgiven and everything will be fine. 

Life experience teaches otherwise. 

One rabbi who knew this well, Rabbi Avraham Saba, who was exiled by the Spanish Inquisition, explains the gap between promise and reality:

We often see many times that we wrap ourselves in a tallit and are not answered. Rather, the divine will is that whenever Israel acts according to this list of God’s deeds, are compassionate and kind to the poor, are patient and loving with one another, and forego their right to punish, etc., then they are promised that the attributes will not return empty-handed.  (emphasis SMZ, Tzror Hamor on Exodus 34:5, h/t Rabbi Shai Held).

Reciting the 13 Attributes is not meant only to awaken God’s mercy in heaven but also to internalize them so we can realize them on earth. The golden calf does not represents the Eternal in the world; rather we, human beings created in God’s image, do so when we walk in God’s ways by being merciful and doing acts of loving kindness for one another.

Parashat Vayechi: Joseph Returns to the Pit

עברית

Thirty-nine years[1] after his brothers cast him into a pit, Joseph returns to the scene.

A midrash in Bereishit Rabbah (100:8) wonders why when Joseph and his brothers are on their way back to Egypt after burying Jacob in Hebron, approximately three months[2] after his death, the Torah suddenly notes “Joseph’s brothers saw that their father was dead” (see Genesis 50:15). What has changed, and why are they suddenly afraid of Joseph again?  

The rabbis suggest several possibilities. I want to focus on the comment of Rabbi Isaac who said, “He went and looked into that same pit.” Joseph’s brothers saw that he left the caravan, took a side path and looked into the pit where they had thrown him 39 years before.

They saw where he went, but they didn’t know what he was thinking. Perhaps he was planning revenge against them now that their father was no longer around to control him? Perhaps he would throw them into another “pit,” the jail operated by Potiphar, and then sit down to a meal with Benjamin ignoring their distress just as they had ignored his. What goes around comes around.

Therefore they fabricated an additional testament in the name of Jacob and sent a messenger to plead with Joseph: “Forgive, I urge you, the offense and guilt of your brothers who treated you so harshly” (Genesis 50:17). I contend that this is a fabrication because Jacob, in his last words to his sons, reprimanded Reuben, Simon and Levy for their evil deeds. Surely, he wouldn’t have passed over what the brothers did to Joseph, if he had known about it. Apparently everyone kept silent for all these years, in order not to ruin Jacob’s joy of being reunited with Joseph.

The brothers concern is understandable, revenge is a natural motion but Joseph rises above it:

Have no fear! Am I a substitute for God? Besides, although you intended me harm, God intended it for good, so as to bring about the present result—the survival of many people. And so, fear not. I will sustain you and your children.” Thus he reassured them, speaking kindly to them (Genesis 50:19-21).

Joseph overcame his sexual urges when seduced by Potiphar’s wife, and now he overcomes the urge for revenge. Therefore, rabbinic literature refers to him as “tsaddik - righteous.” Moreover, Midrash Tanhuma (Noah 5:1) emphasizes that Noah and Joseph are called “righteous” because they provided food for God’s creatures. There is no work more elemental or more elevated than this.

Joseph looked into the pit, felt the severity of his situation at the time and rose above the natural inclination to seek revenge. Thus, he became a living example of the mitzvah that the Torah would later command Jacob’s descendants after they left Egypt: 

You shall not oppress a גר stranger, for you know the feelings of the stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt” (Exodus 23:9). 

Do not throw others into a pit because you understand that experience, you understand the misery of a person chased from his or her home, of a people exiled from their land.
What is hateful to you (plural) do not do onto others.

Leviticus 19:34 raises the threshold: 

The stranger who resides with you shall be to you as one of your native-born; you shall love him as yourself, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. 

Altogether, the Torah warns us to be concerned about the well-being of the stranger 36 times. The many repetitions are necessary because the behavior being demanded is indeed difficult. The temptation to think “After everything we have been through no one would dare blame us if we were to oppress others as we ourselves were oppressed” is alive and well. The Torah commands us to resist the temptation.

Human nature tends to forget pain. Therefore, perhaps “You know the feelings of the stranger” should be read as a command “You must know,” if you have forgotten what it means to be a stranger, it is your obligation to make the effort to recover that knowledge. Joseph could have gone straight back to his high office in Egypt. He chose to take a detour in order to look at the pit, because he did not want to forget. His willingness to feed and support his brothers and their families despite remembering full well what they did to him entitles Joseph to be considered righteous, and makes him an example of keeping the Torah’s commandments.

Like Joseph, we also are likely to forget. We have returned to the Land. We still remember exile but are beginning to forget. The facts are known but the feeling is dulled. Therefore, we must take a detour from the natural path and make an effort to remember. To look into the pit, to experience the pain, and to love the stranger because we were strangers in the land of Egypt, to love the refugee because we were refugees in the lands of the north and wherever we were exiled.

I am not talking about theoretical strangers and refugees but rather about real people, the asylum-seekers who live here in the State of Israel, who have fled for their lives from real dangers of violence and famine. Some people ask: “How do we know who is a genuine refugee and who is ‘just coming along for the ride?’” The question is appropriate, and there are international rules for determining these matters but the bureaucracy moves very slowly. Therefore, the lack of clarity and human suffering continue. That being the case, how should we act? According to Rabbi Aaron Leibowitz, we must act according to the established principle of Jewish law that whenever we have doubt about implementing a law stated in the written Torah, we must be strict. We must widen our concern beyond the “poor of our city.” We must also love the stranger, providing basic necessities for those seeking protection in our country. These are mitzvot from the Torah, and we must be strict with ourselves about keeping them.

If you would like recommendation about opportunities to help, leave a comment or contact the Consortium for Israel and the Asylum Seekers because we were strangers in the Land of Egypt.

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I am grateful to Leni Wesly for the inspiration and to Rabbis Shai Held and Aaron Leibowitz for helping me find the language to express it.

[1] “At age seventeen, Joseph tended the flocks with his brothers” (Genesis 37:2)     

     “Joseph was thirty years old when he entered the service of Pharaoh” (Gen. 41:46) [13 years]

     Seven years of plenty (Genesis 41:47) [20 years]

     Two years of famine before Jacob comes to Egypt (Genesis 45:6) [22 years]   

     “Jacob lived seventeen years in the land of Egypt” (Genesis 47:20) [39 years]  

[2]  There are 70 days of embalming and mourning in Egypt (Genesis 50:3), plus the time it took to get to Hebron and seven days of mourning there (verse 10), and now they are on the way back to Egypt. 

בפרשת ויחי תש"פ: יוֹסֵף הָלַךְ וְהֵצִיץ בְּאוֹתוֹ הַבּוֹר

English

נער שהושלך לבור וחוזר להביט בו כעבור 39 שנה,* מה הוא מרגיש?

הנער הוא יוסף והשאלה שלי מבוססת על מדרש בבראשית רבה (ק:ח) התוהה מה קרה אחרי קבורת יעקב, בדרך חזרה למצרים, כשפתאום כתוב: "וַיִּרְאוּ אֲחֵי-יוֹסֵף כִּי־מֵת אֲבִיהֶם." עברו כשלושה חודשים (ראה בר' נ: ג-יג) מאז שיעקב נפטר, מה ראו שרק עכשיו הם קולטים? ולמה הם שוב חוששים מיוסף? הרבנים העלו כמה אפשריות, בינהים:

רַבִּי יִצְחָק אָמַר הָלַךְ וְהֵצִיץ בְּאוֹתוֹ הַבּוֹר.

 אחיו ראו שיוסף נפרד מן השיירה והלך בדרך צדדית כדי להביט בבור שאליו הם השליכו אותו. הם רואים אבל אינם יודעים מה עובר בראשו. אולי הוא מתכנן נקמה עכשיו שאביהם לא נמצא כדי לרסן אותו? אולי הוא ישליך אותם לבור אחר, בית הסוהר של שר הטבחים המצרי, ישב לאכול לחם עם בנימין ויתעלם מצרתם, כמו שהם התעלמו מצעקותיו. מידה כנגד מידה.

לכן הם ממציאים צוואה נוספת בשם יעקב, ושולחים שליח להתחנן לפני יוסף:

אָנָּא שָׂא נָא פֶּשַׁע אַחֶיךָ וְחַטָּאתָם כִּי־רָעָה גְמָלוּךָ  (בר' נ:יז).

אני טוענת שהציווי הזה כוזב כי במילותיו האחרונות לבניו, יעקב נזף בראובן, בשמעון ובלוי על מעשיהם הרעים, ולא יתכן שהוא היה פוסח על העוול שעשו ליוסף לוּ ידע על אודותיו. נראה כי משך כל השנים כולם שמרו על שתיקה כדי לא לגרוע משמחתו של יעקב כאשר הוא נפגש שוב עם יוסף.

חששם של האחים במקום, רגש הנקמה מובן, אבל יוסף מתעלה עליו ואומר:

וְאַתֶּם חֲשַׁבְתֶּם עָלַי רָעָה אֱלֹהִים חֲשָׁבָהּ לְטֹבָה לְמַעַן עֲשֹׂה כַּיּוֹם הַזֶּה לְהַחֲיֹת עַם-רָב׃ וְעַתָּה אַל-תִּירָאוּ, אָנֹכִי אֲכַלְכֵּל אֶתְכֶם וְאֶת-טַפְּכֶם... (בר' נ: כ-כא)

יוסף התגבר על יצר המיני במפגשו עם אשת פוטיפר ועכשיו הוא מתגבר על יצר הנקמה. על כן נקרא בספרות חז”ל ומסורות הדורות "צדיק". יותר מזה, מדרש תנחומא (נח ה:א) מדגיש כי נח ויוסף "נִקְרְאוּ צַדִּיקִים עַל שֶׁזָּנוּ אֶת הַבְּרִיוֹת." אין דבר בסיסי יותר או נעלה יותר מדאגה לתזונתם של הרבים.

יוסף הביט בבור, הרגיש בחומרת מצבו דאז והתעלה על הנטיה הטבעית לנקום. בזה הוא הדגים בחייו את מִצְוַת התורה לצאצאיו וצאצאי אחיו אחרי יציאת מצריים:

וְגֵר לֹא תִלְחָץ וְאַתֶּם יְדַעְתֶּם אֶת-נֶפֶשׁ הַגֵּר כִּי־גֵרִים הֱיִיתֶם בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם" (שמות כג:ט).

 אל תשליכו אחרים לבור, כי אתם מכירים את החוויה, את האומללות של אדם שנדחף מביתו, של עם שגולה מארצו אל ארץ נכריה. מה ששנוא עליכם, אל תעשו לאחרים.

ספר ויקרא מחמיר אף יותר "כְּאֶזְרָח מִכֶּם יִהְיֶה לָכֶם הַגֵּר" (ויקרא יט:כד) ובסה"כ התורה מזהירה אותנו על הגר שלושים ושש פעמים. החזרות הרבות נחוצות בגלל שההתנהגות הנדרשת מאתנו היא משימה קשה. הפיתוי לחשוב "אחרי כל מה שעברנו אף אחד לא יכול להאשים אותנו אם נחלץ אחרים כמו שלחצו אותנו" חי ובועט. התורה מצווה עלינו לעמוד בפיתוי.

כמו כן, טבע האדם משכיח את הכאב. לכן אפשר לקרוא את "וְאַתֶּם יְדַעְתֶּם אֶת-נֶפֶשׁ הַגֵּר" לא רק כתיאור מצב אלא גם כצווי: "ואם אינכם יודעים את נפש-הגר חובתכם להתאמץ להכיר ולדעת." יוסף יכול היה לחזור ישר למשרתו הרמה במצרים. הוא בחר לסטות מן הדרך כדי להביט בבור, כי הוא לא רצה לשכוח. נכונותו להזין ולכלכל את אחיו ומשפחותיהם למרות שהוא זוכר היטב מה עבר עליו מזכה אותו בתואר "צדיק" ומעמיד אותו כדוגמה לקיום מצות התורה.

כמו יוסף, גם אנחנו עלולים לשכוח. חזרנו ארצה, עדיין זוכרים את הנדודים אבל החוויה מעומעמת. לכן עלינו לסטות מהדרך הטבע ובאופן פעיל לזכור ולהזכר.

להביט בבור, בכאב ולאהוב את הגר כי גרים היינו בארץ מצריים, לדאוג לצרכי הפליט כי פליטים ‏היינו בארצות הצפון ובכל הארצות שאליהן הגענו שמה.

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אינני מדברת על גרים ופליטים תאורטיים אלא באנשים אמתיים, מבקשי המקלט החיים כאן במדינת ישראל, שנסו על נפשם מסכנות מוחשיות כמו אלימות ורעב. יש מי שמקשה: "איך אנחנו יודעים מי באמת פליט ומי סתם מנצל את המצב?" השאלה במקום. יש כללים בינלאומיים כדי לברר את העניינים אך הבירוקרטיה טוחנת לאט, לאט. לכן, אי-הבהירות נמשכת ואיתה הסבל האנושי. הקיפאון הרשמי אינו פוטר אותנו מאחריות, כיחידים או כחרבה.

עד לפתרון מדיני, איך עלינו לנהוג? לדברי הרב אהרון ליבוביץ': "כל עוד איננו יודעים מי הוא באמת פליט, עלינו לנהוג לפי הכלל ההלכתי 'ספקא דאורייתא לחומרא.'" כאשר יש לנו ספק לגבי ישומה של מצוה מפורשת בתורה שבכתב עלינו להחמיר. לא הסתפק בדאגה לעניי עירנו אלא גם לאהוב את גר, לדאג למחיתם בסיסית לאלו שמחפשים אצלנו מחסה: אלו מצות מן התורה, לכן עלינו להחמיר עם עצמנו ולהושיט יד לכולם.

זו התואריה, אם אתם רוצים לעזור הלכה למעשה דעת איך, תפנו אלי (כאן או בפרטי) או לפנות לאירגון הגג "לישראל ומקבשי המקלט".

שושנה מיכאל צוקר

הוד והדר תש"פ

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אני מודה ללני ווסלי על ההשראה ולרבנים ש"י הלד ואהרון ליבוביץ' שעזרו למצוא את השפה להביע אותה.

*יוֹסֵף בֶּן־שְׁבַע־עֶשְׂרֵה שָׁנָה הָיָה רֹעֶה אֶת־אֶחָיו בַּצֹּאן (בר' לז:ב)

וְיוֹסֵף בֶּן־שְׁלֹשִׁים שָׁנָה בְּעָמְדוֹ לִפְנֵי פַּרְעֹה (בר' מא:מו) [13 שנים]

שבע שנות שבע (בר' מא:מז) [20 שנה]

לפני שיעקב יורת מצרימה: כִּי־זֶה שְׁנָתַיִם הָרָעָב בְּקֶרֶב הָאָרֶץ (בר' מה:ו) [22 שנה]

וַיְחִי יַעֲקֹב בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם שְׁבַע עֶשְׂרֵה (בר' מז:כ) [39 שנים]

Parashat Ha’azinu: Creation on the path to completion

Hebrew

The Song of Moses in this week’s portion is overflowing with flowery, descriptive ‎language. One of most conspicuous images is the metaphor comparing God to a rock or ‎boulder, something stable and enduring. At first glance the verse, “The Rock! God’s ‎deeds are perfect” (Deuteronomy 32:4) is challenging. The Rock is enduring and strong ‎but is God’s creation perfect? Not so much. Alongside magnificent landscapes and ‎tremendous natural resources, and people who are loving, generous and brilliant in many ‎fields, there are horrifying natural disasters, horrendous diseases, murderers, thieves and all ‎sorts of unsavory characters.‎

The prophet Isaiah confirms the evil in the world and its origin in creation: “I form light ‎and create darkness, I make peace and create evil— I the Eternal does all these things” ‎‎(44:7). The Rabbis had trouble accepting the strident formulation that attributes evil to ‎God, and they moderated the verse before including it in the blessing for the creation of ‎light. Therefore, we pray, “I form light and create darkness, I make peace and create ‎everything.” This move moderates the language but not the facts. If God created ‎everything, God created evil. Therefore, God’s creation is not perfect.‎

Unless God didn’t actually create the entire world ex nihilo (from nothing). ‎

Genesis chapter 1 tells about a neat, orderly process in which God creates by speaking. ‎When creation is complete, God declares it “very good.” The gap between that and our ‎world is deep and wide. From whence has all the confusion and pain, evil and suffering ‎come? They have always existed. Genesis chapter 1 is a carefully constructed literary ‎work that not only reveals but also conceals. The Torah does not claim that there was ‎creation ex nihilo of a new world in which evil is a foreign implant. The primordial waters ‎are a symbol of danger lying in wait. God never calls the material world into being but ‎rather creates light and imposes order on the water and formless void, to facilitate “the ‎emergence of a stable community in a benevolent and life-sustaining order” (Jon D. ‎Levenson, Creation and the Persistence of Evil).‎

The order God imposed in the world might have been perfect, but it wasn’t stable. ‎Consequently, male and female people were created in God’s image and commissioned as ‎human agents to rule the world in the name of ‎the creator God (Genesis 1:38). Therefore, ‎at the end of the poem, Moses challenges us, “Take to heart all the words with which I ‎have warned you this day. Enjoin them upon your children, that they may observe ‎faithfully all the terms of this Teaching” (Deuteronomy 32:46) in order to continue ‎building a world that might, someday, reach perfection. ‎