Dvar Tzedek

By Rabbi Rachel Kahn-Troster

As the Israelites wind down their adventures in the desert and prepare to enter the Promised Land as a free generation, they must again confront their faith in God’s ability to protect and provide for them. At the heart of Parashat Chukkat is the puzzling episode of Moses and the rock that yields water. Through Moses and the costly mistake that he makes, this parashah teaches us the proper way to express trust in God. The challenges that Moses and the Israelites face in finding the right way to engage in and express their belief in God challenge us to think about the ways we demonstrate commitment to our values in the public sphere.

In this episode, the people complain of thirst and of feeling abandoned by God. Moses is commanded by God to assemble the people and to order a specific rock to yield water. This is constructed as a highly visible spectacle: God specifies that the miracle must take place l’ayneihem, before the very eyes of the people. Instead of immediately obeying God’s commandment and speaking confidently to the rock—showcasing the miraculous benevolence of the Divine—Moses chastises the people and asks, “Will we get water for you from this rock?!” This question shifts the focus away from God to God’s human agents, and does so in an exceedingly public forum. Moses proceeds to hit the rock, making it appear that he is the cause of the water that gushes forth. The desired immediate result—salvation from thirst—is achieved, but the theological goal—demonstrating God’s power to the people—is not. God’s rebuke to Moses, that he “did not trust Me enough to affirm my sanctity in the sight of the Israelite people,” emphasizes that through his public outburst Moses squanders an opportunity to reinforce the faith of the people and inspire them to trust in God.

A midrash notes that Moses had doubted and challenged God prior to this episode, but until now had done so only in private and therefore without censure. The confrontation at the rock, however, is impossible for God to overlook. Moses is punished not for lacking personal faith, but for not inspiring faith in the Israelites. Here, Moses allows the Israelites to see the cracks and fissures in his own faith in God. This weakness is reflected in the Israelites’ future poor behavior and outbursts against God. Indeed, later in the parashah, the people complain again about the difficulty of life in the desert. They have not learned to trust in God.

This passage suggests that our public actions, ones in which we commit our names and our reputations, can have significant impact, and that they need to be constructive in order to be effective. As social justice activists we need the courage to declare the importance of bringing justice to the world. Learning from Moses, we should make sure that our declarations are positive, have substance and invite participation. We must project and inspire confidence. We must speak to the rock.

Yet, much of what passes for “action” or activism today is superficial, even though in this age of Google it sometimes seems like nothing is private and that everything we do—from the petitions we sign to the donations we make—is part of the public record forever. We go onto Facebook and become fans of many different causes with a few mouse clicks. We wear a T-shirt with a cute slogan or slap on a bumper sticker. These forms of discourse are public but they are shallow. A public display with little to back it up is not that different from Moses’s outburst in the desert. It may deliver water, but does not inspire larger, more lasting results or change the consciousness of our audience.

To truly make a difference, we have to be willing to engage our values in public in a way that has meaning. We can call or write to our elected officials. We can attend a rally or a speech, and text our friends to join us there. We can write a letter to the editor or an op-ed. When we make donations to causes we believe in, we can allow those organizations to use our names in their lists of supporters. Or we can take a real risk with our Facebook friends and online followers, and actively engage them in an in-person conversation about the causes we believe in. Real engagement requires more than a mouse click.

We need to take up the challenge given to Moses by God to sanctify God’s name publicly and in a substantive way. There is real risk involved in taking a confident stand in the sight of others, but there are also real rewards.

Kahn-Troster, Rachel. "Dvar Tzedek 5774." American Jewish World Service. (Viewed on June 28, 2014). http://ajws.org/what_we_do/education/publications/dvar_tzedek/5774/chukkat.html

Miriam – Water Under the Bridge?

By Rabbi Bradley Artson

Careers of public figures take on a life of their own, ebbing and flowing with shifts in public opinion and the latest values.

While featured prominently in the Torah, Miriam’s claim to fame always paled in the face of her more visible brothers. After all, Aaron was the first Kohen Gadol (high priest), the link between the Jewish people and their religion, and Moses was the intimate friend of God, transmitting sacred teachings to the people.

Compared to those two leaders, Miriam simply faded into the background. True, we celebrate her beautiful song at the shores of the Red Sea, but even that poem is overshadowed by Moses’ far-lengthier song. Today, Miriam’s fame rests less on any specific accomplishment and more on the fact that she was a woman.

Three thousand years ago–and in most parts of the world even today–being a woman was itself disqualification from public recognition or accomplishment. With so few female heroes, Miriam stands out precisely because we are now more sensitive to just how difficult it is for a woman to gain public recognition. Today’s parasha comments on the death of this prophet, that “Miriam died there and was buried there, and the community was without water.”

Rashi (11th Century, France) noticed the strange juxtaposition of Miriam’s death and the shortage of water, and assumed that there must be a connection between the two. “From this we learn that all forty years, they had a well because of the merit of Miriam.” Miriam’s Well entered the realm of Midrash as testimony to the greatness of this unique leader.

As the Jews wandered through the wilderness, lacking adequate water would have been fatal. However, the power of Miriam’s integrity, piety and caring was such that God provided a moving well of water, one which followed the people throughout their wanderings until the moment of her death. Without Miriam, there was no more water.

Miriam’s place in Jewish legend points to two lessons we can carry with us through our own personal wildernesses. While male prophets emphasize the power of words, the centrality of rules of conduct, of sanctity and of justice, Miriam’s prophecy was one of deed. Rather than stirring speeches or administration of justice, Miriam focused on teaching her people how to sing in moments of joy, and she saw to their sustenance during their period of exposure and fragility.

Miriam’s example, paralleled by countless women after her, is one of action–deeds of love and support. Without Miriam’s efforts, no one would have been able to listen to the words of Moses or to study God’s Torah. Acts of caring and love–that is the special gift that women give humanity. Notice, also, that no one comments on her well, on how important and valued her contribution is until after she has died.

The tragic reality is that for most women, after-the-fact recognition is often the only kind that is given. The women who work in the homes raising children, the women who work in the schools teaching students, the women who work in hospitals tending the sick, these and countless other women perform the difficult, tedious tasks that sustain and make human life possible.

While medallions and press releases accompany the splashier achievements of some men, many women quietly provide wells of nurturing and support without public attention or commendation. Only when they are no longer able to serve are their services noticed, and then only because they are missed. Why didn’t anyone notice Miriam’s well while she was still alive?

It may be too late to change Miriam’s status among her own generation, although many Jewish men and women are now, belatedly, giving her the prominence that her compassion and nurturing deserve. But it is not too late for our generation to re-examine its own values and heroes today.

Do we sufficiently honor those whose contribution is quiet support of others? Do we still relegate such vital care to one specific group, or have we each undertaken to make ourselves not only disciples of Aaron, not only children of Moses, but also personifications of Miriam–using our hands and hearts, just as she did, to irrigate the lives of our people and of all people?

Artson, Bradley. "Miriam - Water Under the Bridge?" MyJewishLearning.com. (Viewed on June 28, 2014). http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Bible/Weekly_Torah_Portion/hukkat_artson5762.shtml?p=0