Tag Archives: Israel

Shoftim, Deuteronomy 16:18-21:9

Link to Parsha: http://www.hebcal.com/sedrot/shoftim

Breathing New Life into Ancient Teaching

By Rabbi Shira Milgrom

One of the joys of Jewish life in the Land of Israel is the way ancient texts can be used in ordinary moments of daily life. A rabbinic colleague tells the story of a Jerusalem traffic jam: traffic had come to a complete halt, and drivers were leaning on their horns in frustration. The taxi driver (who was driving my colleague) finally stepped out of his car and reprimanded the driver behind him, with a full, verbatim quote of Exodus 14:15, in its original Hebrew:

“Why are you yelling at me? Speak to the people of Israel and tell them to move!” (The translation here is meant to reflect the use of the text.) Never mind that in the original context it is God speaking to Moses at the Sea of Reeds.

At another moment of Israel’s story—a moment neither joyous nor quotidian—members of Israel’s judiciary community brought a different Torah text to bear on Israeli society. It was 1982. Israel was in control of southern Lebanon when Lebanese Christian Phalangists attacked the predominately Muslim refugee camps of Sabra and Shatila, and many were killed. Huge protests in Israel against the killings forced the government to take action, resulting in its convening a commission to assess the responsibility of the Israeli government and army. The Kahan Commission, established by the Israeli government, was chaired by Yitzhak Kahan, president of Israel’s Supreme Court. It concluded that the Gemayel Phalangists bore direct responsibility for the massacres in the refugee camps, and that Israel was to be held indirectly responsible. It is to this second charge, that of indirect responsibility, that we turn our attention.

The Kahan Commission used as the basis of its argument an esoteric text from this week’s parashah:

“If, in the land that the Eternal your God is assigning you to possess, someone slain is found lying in the open, the identity of the slayer not being known, your elders and magistrates shall go out and measure the distances from the corpse to the nearby towns. The elders of the town nearest to the corpse shall then take a heifer which has never been worked, which has never pulled in a yoke, and the elders of the town shall bring the heifer down to an everflowing wadi, which is not tilled or sown. There, in the wadi, they shall break the heifer’s neck. The priests, the sons of Levi, shall come forward; for the Eternal your God has chosen them for divine service and to pronounce a blessing in the name of the Eternal, and every lawsuit and case of assault is subject to their ruling. Then all the elders of the town nearest to the corpse shall wash their hands over the heifer whose neck was broken in the wadi. And they shall make this declaration: ‘Our hands did not shed this blood, nor did our eyes see it done. Absolve, Eternal One, Your people Israel whom You redeemed, and do not let guilt for the blood of the innocent remain among Your people Israel.’ And they will be absolved of bloodguilt. Thus you will remove from your midst guilt for the blood of the innocent, for you will be doing what is right in the sight of the Eternal” (Deuteronomy 21:1–9).

Why must the elders and magistrates of the town nearest to the corpse go through this strange ritual and ask for absolution? Because they are presumed guilty. They bear indirect responsibility for the murder, because it occurred under their jurisdiction, on their watch, in their territory. Quoting directly from the Kahan Commission:

“A basis for such responsibility may be found in the outlook of our ancestors, which was expressed in things that were said about the moral significance of the biblical portion concerning the ‘beheaded heifer’ (in the Book of Deuteronomy, chapter 21). It is said in Deuteronomy (21:6-7) that the elders of the city who were near the slain victim who has been found (and it is not known who struck him down) ‘will wash their hands over the beheaded heifer in the valley and reply: our hands did not shed this blood and our eyes did not see.’ Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi says of this verse (Babylonian Talmud,Sota 38b):

“The necessity for the heifer whose neck is to be broken only arises on account of the niggardliness of spirit, as it is said, ‘Our hands have not shed this blood.’ But can it enter our minds that the elders of a Court of Justice are shedders of blood! The meaning is, [the man found dead] did not come to us for help and we dismissed him, we did not see him and let him go—i.e., he did not come to us for help and we dismissed him without supplying him with food, we did not see him and let him go without escort.’. . . . When we are dealing with the issue of indirect responsibility, it should also not be forgotten that the Jews in various lands of exile, and also in the Land of Israel when it was under foreign rule, suffered greatly from pogroms perpetrated by various hooligans; and the danger of disturbances against Jews in various lands, it seems evident, has not yet passed. The Jewish public’s stand has always been that the responsibility for such deeds falls not only on those who rioted and committed the atrocities, but also on those who were responsible for safety and public order, who could have prevented the disturbances and did not fulfill their obligations in this respect.”

The Kahan Commission honored the Torah, breathed new life into ancient text, and held the Israeli government to moral standards that its citizens expected: a brilliant—and all too rare—moment.

For more information on the events leading to the establishment of the Kahan Commission, click here.

Milgrom, Shira. "Shof'tim: Breathing New Life into Ancient Teaching." ReformJudaism.org. (Viewed on August 30, 2014). http://www.reformjudaism.org/learning/torah-study/shoftim/shof%E2%80%99tim-breathing-new-life-ancient-teaching

D’var Tzedek

By Rabbi Joshua Rabin

On December 16, 2012, 23-year old Jyoti Singh was raped by six men while riding on a bus in New Delhi, India. The attack reportedly lasted over two and a half hours, and Singh died two weeks later in Singapore from her injuries. Four of her attackers were found guilty and sentenced to death by hanging.

Although Singh’s rapists were convicted for their horrific crime, the sad reality is that most cases of violence against women in India go unpunished. According to a report by the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR), only 40 percent of rapes in India are reported and only 26 percent of rape cases tried in court result in convictions. The CFR notes that India’s slow, underfunded and corrupt criminal justice system “exacerbated the plight of rape and sexual assault victims” rather than helping them achieve justice. Furthermore, the CFR reports that political and religious leaders promote a “culture of complicity” around violence against women, pressuring women and their families not to report these crimes or blaming the assaults on women themselves. Although we should find a small degree of comfort in knowing that Singh’s attackers were brought to justice, there is no doubt that there are countless women who will never receive the justice they deserve.

Parashat Shoftim, which begins with the Israelites standing on the precipice of entering the land of Canaan, recognizes that the emerging Israelite society must have a mechanism for justice to be served, and so dictates that a court system be constructed. However, our parashah is not content simply to command the Israelites to appoint judges upon entering the land of Canaan. Instead, the Torah specifies a code of morality that the judges must abide by: “You shall not judge unfairly; you shall show no partiality; you shall not take bribes, for bribes blind the eyes of the discerning and upset the plea of the just.”

While our parashah could have stated the importance of impartial and ethical leaders in general, it is particularly prescient in singling out the judicial system as an area of society that must be free of corruption. In a report by the United States Agency for International Development (USAID), judicial corruption is described as a serious impediment towards international development, for when the institution charged with enforcing the rule of law is compromised, “anti-corruption strategies are deprived of essential measures that are needed to increase the risks and reduce the benefits of corruption and to punish corrupt acts.” As a result, when our parashah tells us that upright judges must be chosen, God is providing the Israelites with a roadmap for an entire society to be guided by justice.

In taking a closer look at the language of Parashat Shoftim, we see that the challenge of creating just judicial systems lies in the human fallibility of the judges. Contemporary biblical scholar Jeffrey Tigay notes that by empowering all Israelites to “resist and protest abuses of authority,” this mitzvah from our parashah makes a striking distinction between what God will provide for the Israelites, and what the Israelites must create for themselves.

The 13th-century legal work, Sefer Ha-Hinukh, states that God commands the Israelites to prevent corrupt behavior “until the commands of the Torah cease to be dependent on the trustworthiness of each individual.” Explaining this interpretation, biblical scholar Nehama Leibowitz argues that by creating honorable systems of justice, the Israelites will “habituate the public to the rule of law and equity which will become second nature.” By insisting upon a just system of governance, the Torah is teaching us that we are the only obstacle to fully actualizing the potential of all human beings, and that creating institutions guided by justice is the first step in teaching an entire society what it means to pursue justice within the reality of daily living.

Contemporary philosopher Lenn Goodman writes that the Torah wants to show “how just institutions can create the good life it envisions,” commanding the Israelites to create societal structures that enable people to feel protected and valued. The situation in India supports Goodman’s claim, as Professor Mrinal Satish of the National Law University in Delhi argues that the way “the legal system deals with rape cases” results in the proliferation of violence against women in India. This is a clear instance of how a society’s ineffective and indifferent pursuit of justice not only fails to protect and value its citizens but condemns them to live lives of violence and fear.

American Jewish World Service continues to advocate for the passage of the International Violence Against Women Act (IVAWA) as a part of the We Believe campaign. We have the opportunity to send a clear message to our legislators that all countries must implement legal systems that support women in their pursuit to achieve justice. After all, ensuring that society’s most vulnerable people are treated justly is the only way to ensure that society will promote justice for all.

Rabin, Joshua. "Parshat Shoftim 5774: Dvar Tzedek." American Jewish World Service. (Viewed on August 30, 2014). http://ajws.org/what_we_do/education/publications/dvar_tzedek/5774/shoftim.html?autologin=true&utm_source=education&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=20140825-E-DT

Tol’dot, Genesis 25:19-28:9

Link to Parsha: http://www.hebcal.com/sedrot/toldot

Toldot: Hunting Down One Good Prayer

By Chaya Lester

In this week’s parsha we read that Isaac prayed for his barren wife Rebecca. It is notable that the term used here is “lanochach eshto”, which can be read literally as he prayed “standing before”, or “opposite” his wife. Midrash Rabbah picks up on this curious phrase and paints a picture of Isaac and Rebecca standing together, facing each other in shared prayer. It’s a poignant image of a couple working together in a striking face-to-face pose; an admirable Biblical model for partnership.

So one might ask, if this is such a partnership, why is it that it is Isaac’s prayer alone that is recorded & answered by God. Rashi explains that his prayers were heard because he was the son of a saint, whereas Rebecca is the daughter of an evil man. The poem I’m about to share attempts to take that answer one step further.

But first, let’s look briefly at a little of what we know about Isaac’s psychological makeup. Later in the parsha we read that Isaac’s eyes grew dim in his old age. The Midrash explicitly links Isaac’s blindness to his experience of being bound upon the altar beneath his father’s sacrificial blade. It records that angels witnessing the binding wept tears that dropped into Isaac’s eyes. Those very tears were taken as the cause of his blindness later in life.

Aviva Zornberg likens Isaac’s blindness to a type of psychological vertigo. She notes a remarkable phenomena where people who suffer traumatic experiences earlier in life can often, in later years, suffer from serious vision impairment. It is as if their compromised vision in old age is an expression of years of repressed emotion. Their blindness manifests a psychosomatic drive to un-see all the horrors that they had witness so long ago.

According to these findings, blindness can be an indicator of unprocessed trauma. As the text itself says, “Isaac’s eyes became dimmed from seeing.” His eyes were dimmed from the impact of all that he had seen. And so we return to the scene of Rivka and Isaac’s prayer for children with this in mind.

Yes, God hears Isaac’s prayers because he was the son of a saint; a man so saintly that he was willing to sacrifice his beloved son! We must ask ourselves what psychological impact did that near-sacrifice have on Isaac? And, most pointedly, what sort of an impact did it have on Isaac’s stance towards begetting and parenting his own children.

In keeping with their model of an honest face-to-face relationship, Rebecca in this poem urges her husband to do the laborious work of processing his past. She, in her own desire for children, begs him to confront whatever resistances he may have to generating his future generations.

It is striking that the opening & title of the parsha, “Toldot Yitzchak”, means the Generations of Isaac. Such a title could thus be seen as a testimony to his successfully stepping up to the task of continuity and child-rearing in the face of his own complex childhood.

STANDING OPPOSITE ISAAC
You were broken
like
porcelain.
Dashed against a desert.
Shattered neath a father’s
          dagger.
And a flinty mirror streaked
          with tears
          dripped
          not blood
          but blindness
          into your grey hairs.
Your pieces plastered
back together
hold me tender
a fragile tendon
– tiptoed to the next generation.
You, the quiet casualty
of your father’s spiritual
ambitions.
Perhaps you fear
that G-d demand
you do the same
if you were to father
your own ambitions.
– Would you?
Or would you rather
          pray?
Pray for me.
Here –
where you were
born up
on that unforgiving rock,
beneath an angel’s eye
and ram’s horn
fortuitously caught.
Would you pray a future
to fill this vacant womb?
Would you pray for continuity?
Would you
– continue?
And tell me, husband dear,
can you eye your own
resistance
and defy your very fears?
Forgo the blindness
that has plagued you
and face your own
descendants
with a faith
that here
is holy
and life
is weighty
and no more waiting
for safety
but rather brave the gaze
of a world that is
crazy
beautiful
and full of grace.
And shun the blade
that bids you to
accuse your father
or mourn your mother
or resent your God
or blame anyone other
than yourself
for your own debilitating
fears?
For the hand that
you are dealt
is but yours to
commandeer.
So let’s move on
to making our own
glaring
parenting
mistakes.
To risking inflicting
some untold & unending
trauma onto our children.
And with a
well-intentioned will,
sacred and sincere,
let us lift our prayers
to God’s awaiting ears.
With the knowledge
that beyond old traumas
and emotions on the mend
there is meaning
to the riddle
of Moriah
though our tongues
are twisted
and our eyes are dimmed.
Come, husband
to this field
with me
and hunt down
one good prayer.
For the fixing of your childhood
is through fathering your children.
          if you dare.
Lester, Chaya. "Hunting Down One Good Prayer." Spoken Word Torah. (Viewed November 2, 2013). http://blogs.jpost.com/content/toldot-hunting-down-one-good-prayer-0

Sharing The Blessing

Isaac’s decision to bless both of his sons gives us hope for achieving a peaceful solution to the conflict between Jews and Palestinians.

By Rabbi Daniel Bronstein

Even by biblical standards, few statements are as stark as God’s words to Rebekah after the matriarch had conceived twins. “Two nations are in your womb,” God explains, “And two peoples shall be separated…And the elder shall serve the younger.”

Indeed, few Biblical struggles, few familial conflicts–in a book filled with stories of intra-family struggles–are as tragic as the confrontation between Jacob and Esau.

It seems that from that moment, the twin brothers clashed and competed over the family birthright and legacy. The twin grandsons of Abraham and Sarah were, from their birth onwards, locked in a constant struggle over inheriting the prophetic mantle of Abraham and Sarah, inheriting the leadership over the family, and of course, inheriting the riches of the land which God had first promised to Abraham.

As the Torah portion Toledot unfolds, we witness Jacob, the younger brother, gaining through guile what had first been granted to Esau by virtue of being born first. Together, Jacob and Rebekah successfully conspire to transfer the blessing Isaac had intended for Esau over to the younger brother. More than being mere words, Isaac’s blessing was critical because it served as the instrument for bestowing the family legacy, leadership, and ownership of the land.

Yet, in the end, we read that Isaac also rejects playing a zero sum game and grants an alternative blessing to Esau. Although the two blessings are not identical, Isaac, nonetheless, chooses to depart from the tradition of granting a single blessing to his eldest son and instead blesses both of his children.

Some of the sages are puzzled over the multiple blessings, while others attribute Isaac’s actions to a father’s compassion for a grieving child. But whatever the reasons, Isaac’s deed offers us an important lesson in the contemporary struggle for peace. Far from being a perfect analogy, there are still many elements in this story all too reminiscent of the conflict between Jews and Palestinians.

This present-day conflict is also the story of two nations at war with one another from the moment of conception. And as the tragic violence continues between the contemporary nations, we are also reminded that Jacob and Esau also fought over being blessed with the Land. Finally, we are reminded that along with Jacob and Esau, Jews and Arabs are also descendents of Abraham. Like Jacob and Esau, today’s conflict seems unsolvable, and we lament over being locked into what appears to be an eternal struggle.

However, Isaac’s blessings for Jacob and Esau leave us with a measure of hope, even now when many despair of ever achieving peace in the holy land. Isaac blesses both sons with inheritances of fruitful land. Facing different circumstances and possessing different traits, both twins nevertheless receive their father’s blessing–and with it a measure of hope for future descendants of Abraham.

One Jewish tradition teaches that possession of sufficient food and drink is of itself a profound blessing. Still, “if there is no peace,” argued our sages, “there is nothing at all, for “peace equals all else.” Today, we must also reject facile zero sum games, and find ways to share the blessings.

While we may possess sufficient sustenance, we still live without peace. Today, against expectations and against the odds, we also must struggle to share the blessings of our ancestors and to share in the blessings of the land. Now more, than ever, let us remember Isaac’s deeds, and remember that ultimately, “peace equals all else.”

Bronstein, Daniel. "Sharing the Blessing." My Jewish Learning. (Viewed November 1, 2013). http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Bible/Weekly_Torah_Portion/toldot_socialaction5761.shtml?p=0