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And here’s some of what I have to say about this week’s Parsha; I hope you enjoy it, and as always, I hope you have a fabulous Shabbos.
Today You, Tomorrow Me
2 minute read
There is an almost universal survival instinct among living organisms for self-preservation, that can extend to children and family as well. As the degrees of separation erode familiarity, the protective instinct shrinks as well.
Whenever the Torah makes a point, it matters. But when the Torah is replete with the same recurring theme over and over, it matters a lot.
In the laws that deal with interpersonal conduct, the Torah says one thing time and again:
כִּי-יִהְיֶה בְךָ אֶבְיוֹן מֵאַחַד אַחֶיךָ / וְלֹא תִקְפֹּץ אֶת-יָדְךָ, מֵאָחִיךָ, הָאֶבְיוֹן / וְרָעָה עֵינְךָ בְּאָחִיךָ הָאֶבְיוֹן, וְלֹא תִתֵּן לוֹ / פָּתֹחַ תִּפְתַּח אֶת-יָדְךָ לְאָחִיךָ / כִּי-יִמָּכֵר לְךָ אָחִיךָ הָעִבְרִי / לְבִלְתִּי רוּם-לְבָבוֹ מֵאֶחָיו / וְנַחֲלָה לֹא-יִהְיֶה-לּוֹ, בְּקֶרֶב אֶחָיו / וְשֵׁרֵת, בְּשֵׁם ה אֱלֹהָיו–כְּכָל-אֶחָיו / נָבִיא מִקִּרְבְּךָ מֵאַחֶיךָ / וַעֲשִׂיתֶם לוֹ, כַּאֲשֶׁר זָמַם לַעֲשׂוֹת לְאָחִיו – When there will be a poor man among your brothers / Don’t withold your hand from your brother, the poor man / Should your eye turn evil towards your poor brother, and you don’t give him [what he needs] / Open your hands to your brother, and open them once more / Should your brother be sold as a slave / [Let a king] not be haughty over his brothers / [The kohen] shall not have an inheritance with his brothers [because of his extra benefits] / He will serve in God’s name, as his brothers / A prophet will come from among your brothers / Conspiring witnesses shall suffer what they conspired upon their brother. (Multiple sources)
The Torah has many interpersonal laws. But whether it’s about rich and poor, slaves or kings, prophets or priests; the Torah calls us “brothers” over and over again, to extend the self-concept definition beyond ourselves and foster a group identity.
There is a radical concept here.
The Torah wants us to be careful not to define people by their status as a lender, borrower, king, or slave. Our different social status or economics can describe us, but it is our common identity that defines us. We have to help each other, not because we are different, but because we are the same.
The theory of shared identity is presented as one of the foundational reasons we observe the Torah:
וְזָכַרְתָּ, כִּי עֶבֶד הָיִיתָ בְּאֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם, וַיִּפְדְּךָ, ה אֱלֹהֶיךָ – Remember that you were a slave in Egypt, and the Lord redeemed you (15:15)
The fact we were once oppressed is not just a reason to find empathy. It goes much further. It is a reminder that we mustn’t fall victim to hubris and arrogance by taking credit for our good fortune.
The modern professional world is optimized for commerce, not community. The Torah rejects the legitimacy of a culture that creates a permanent wealthy and poor class and obligates us all to look out for those less fortunate.
Reasonable people can disagree on what optimal social policy looks like. But the Torah is clear that we each have a personal obligation to do what we can to help others and foster a communal identity.
Because there, but for the grace of God, go I.
Inspired Blessing
2 minute read
Habits are a powerful thing – habits are how we live and function because motivation is fleeting. But there is a dangerous possibility of habitual religious observance:
רְאֵה אָנֹכִי נֹתֵן לִפְנֵיכֶם הַיּוֹם בְּרָכָה וּקְלָלָה – I am giving before you today a blessing and a curse. (11:26)
Moshe does not call on us to view life’s choices through a black and white dualism of mitzvah versus sin. Instead, he counsels us to make choices through the nuance of blessing and curse, because the blessing is what matters, not the mitzvah itself. A mitzvah is simply a vehicle for what God wishes for each of us – a life of blessing.
But who would ever choose the curse?
R’ Shlomo Farhi explains that by the curse finds us when we focus on the mitzvah instead of the blessing. It is all too easy to empty Judaism of its spirituality; meticulous observance can become mechanical rote – and without mindful intention and inspiration, it can look similar, but it’s not the same.
If we don’t consider an action before following through, we have not made a choice at all, and are simply following conditioning.
That’s where we need to discern the blessing from the curse. What can look like a mitzvah on the surface might not be serving God at all. It’s just robotic programming; it isn’t the path of blessing – it’s the other path. It’s not a path people choose; they find themselves there by not choosing at all!
In its ideal form, Jewish observance is conscious and mindful. We opt in because it matters to us and means something.
On the flip side of this, there is a problem with inspiration run wild.
In the laws that follow, Moshe warns the Jewish People not to co-opt the religious practices of the local Canaanites – because feeling inspired to serve God in ways we choose isn’t serving God at all.
When we blur the boundaries of inspired contribution and dutiful obligation, things can get dangerous.
The people had seen this tense dynamic play out with Nadav and Avihu, with a compelling point made about equality before the law: even the foremost spiritual elite are subject to the framework of the Torah. What had steered them wrong was misguided inspiration that was ultimately misguided folly.
So what are the guidelines of inspired observance that is welcomed with blessing?
R’ Shlomo Farhi teaches that we just need to apply our inspiration where it fits in. When we can and should follow our inspiration, and our actions have enhanced value.
But this can go too far. If someone decides that a white shirt is the most dignified way for them to dress, that is their prerogative. But if that thought process leads them to judge anyone else for not also opting to wear white shirts, that’s the path of mitzvah with no blessing. Our inspiration needs to fit.
Misplaced rigidity only alienates.
We can and should infuse our Jewish observance with mindful feeling. We must choose for it to matter. And we have to find the right place for it – choose the blessing, not the mitzvah. Because inspiration wrongly applied can backfire.
But if we are going through the motions without any inspiration at all, that might be worse.
Sensitivity to God’s Creatures
3 minute read
One of the defining features of observant Judaism is the laws of eating kosher. From field to table, there is a vast corpus of laws that not only governs everything we put into our mouths but also plenty that we don’t.
But what is the point of all the laws?
Rav Kook teaches that one of the underlying principles of the laws of kosher is that the Torah requires humans to respect the life of all creatures deeply. As such, while we are permitted to eat meat for energy and nutrition, the Torah categorically prohibits humans from mistreating animals, with a comprehensive list of laws that minimize animal suffering; for example, the slaughterer’s knife must be razor-sharp and concealed from the animal throughout. What’s more, the Torah’s orientation with respect to God’s creatures extends beyond life and even into death, with a plethora of laws that govern how we treat an animal’s blood following slaughter:
וְשָׁפַךְ, אֶת-דָּמוֹ, וְכִסָּהוּ, בֶּעָפָר – Pour out the blood, and cover it with dust. (17:13)
The Torah is very sensitive to the handling and treatment of blood, which in the Torah’s conception is the vehicle for the essence and soul of vitality and personality, like the English term lifeblood:
אַךְ-בָּשָׂר, בְּנַפְשׁוֹ דָמוֹ לֹא תֹאכֵלוּ – Eat only the meat; do not consume the lifeblood… (9:4)
The imagery of the soul in the blood may help explain why blood is a central element of all the sacrificial rituals:
כִּי נֶפֶשׁ הַבָּשָׂר, בַּדָּם הִוא, וַאֲנִי נְתַתִּיו לָכֶם עַל-הַמִּזְבֵּחַ, לְכַפֵּר עַל-נַפְשֹׁתֵיכֶם: כִּי-הַדָּם הוּא, בַּנֶּפֶשׁ יְכַפֵּר – For the life of the flesh is in the blood; and I have given it to you upon the altar to make atonement for your souls; for it is the blood that atones because of the life. (17:11)
While the Torah permits humans to consume a carnivorous diet, we must nonetheless respect the life of God’s creations; as Nechama Leibowitz points out, the Torah only grants humans permission to eat meat begrudgingly after the Flood story.
The ability to distinguish between right and wrong, good and evil, pure and defiled, the sacred and the profane, is essential in Judaism. Imposing rules on what you can and cannot eat ingrains that kind of self-control, requiring us to learn to control even our most basic, primal instincts. The laws of kosher elevate the simple act of eating into a reminder and religious ritual.
The Torah instituted the first systematic legislation prohibiting cruelty to animals and mandating their humane treatment. While we can utilize God’s creatures as much as necessary for our purposes, we may only do so in ways that show respect and avoid unnecessary harm. Animals do not respect each other’s sanctity of life, but humans are not like other animals, and the Torah gives us laws to remind us that there is a difference. R’ Shlomo Farhi teaches that the Torah’s boundaries ought to instill sensitivity and reverence for life; that our rights and choices as individuals don’t trump everything. The Torah’s permission is conditional – if we cultivate this sensitivity, then we are authorized to use animals for our purposes.
None of this is to suggest we need to become vegans and animal rights activists. It’s simply that the Torah recognizes a link between the treatment of animals and the treatment of human beings – a person who practices cruelty to animals will become cruel to people.
Using animals for food can be ethical, but we’ve got to do it right. We owe these animals a decent life and a painless death; we owe them respect. Time and again, the Torah asks that we do not treat animals casually and that instead, we cherish and nurture life.
Thought of the Week
![Twitter avatar for @BMindfulofDeath](https://substackcdn.com/image/twitter_name/w_96/BMindfulofDeath.jpg)
I appreciated this thought a lot.
I was talking to one of my readers about a specific issue I was grappling with, and he hit me with something to this effect. You shouldn’t listen to the voice that tells you that you’re not where you’re supposed to be.
I found it very grounding and orienting.
But there’s the thorny caveat: so you’re where you’re supposed to be, but what do you do next? It’s thorny because the question of fight-or-flight predates human consciousness!
I don’t have any advice for you on how to make that decision optimally - but if you do, please get back to me!
Quote of the Week
If you're a parent and your kid is getting hugs from other parents to make up for you not giving them hugs, you have failed as parents.
I stumbled across this comment on Reddit this week, and it shook me. The parent-child relationship is sacred and consequential in the extreme. I daven every day to be the best father, husband, and human I can be.
If you know how important it is, hopefully, that gets you a decent start.