Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Lekh Lekha: You are My Blessing

As anyone who reads my Divrei Torah knows, I believe that the Torah teaches us a great deal about how we promote social and emotional intelligence in our educational communities.  At the same time, sometimes I worry that we place too emphasis on promoting social and emotional skills because of their long-term impact on a person’s life, and not enough emphasis on how the values of kindness, patience, caring and others impact our relationships with others on a daily basis.   When I read this week’s parasha, the story of Abraham helps me better understand what it means to teach another person to see the value of living a life of holiness in the here-and-now.

Parshat Lekh Lekha begins with God’s dramatic call to Abram to leave his family and the place of his birth, and go to an undetermined place.   The parasha states:

“The Lord said to Abram, “Go forth from your native land and from your father’s house to the land that I will show you.  I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you shall be a blessing” (Genesis 12:1-2).  

While it is relatively easy for us to understand what it means for God to tell Abram that he would receive blessings at the end of his journey, it is less obvious to our commentators what God means when he says to Abram that “you shall be a blessing.”  In general, the perspective of our rabbinic commentators on this passage is that Abraham, and later and Isaac and Jacob, form a precedent of devotion to God that benefits all future generations of Jews, what is oftentimes referred to as zechut Avot, or the “merit of our ancestors.”   However, an equally important strand exists in our rabbinic commentaries where Abraham’s blessing is not rooted in a merit for future generations, but in how Abraham’s conduct makes him a direct source of blessing to others throughout his life.   In his commentary on “And you will be a blessing,” Rashi writes the following:

“And you will be a blessing”: The blessings are put into your hand.  Until now they were in My hand: I blessed Adam, Noah, and you.  But from now on, you will bless whomever you wish (Rashi, Bereishit 12:2).

In Rashi’s commentary, Abraham is not portrayed a person who will receive blessings from God, but rather is a person for whom God gave the ability to bestow divine blessings to others.   

Rashi’s commentary is echoed in the commentary of Isaac Abravanel, who argues that Abraham himself is the blessing that God sends throughout the earth, and it is the qualities that Abraham exudes that impact people and communities throughout his life.  Abravanel writes:

“The goal of his journeying is hinted at in the expression, “you shall be a blessing” (Bereishit 12:2), for He commanded him that when he would journey, there would be a blessing among the peoples because he would teach them and make them know the truth faith in such a way that the world would be perfected by means of him.  And He (may he be blessed!) informed him that His providence would adhere to those people who accept his teaching and learn his faith” (Isaac Abravanel on Bereishit 12:2).

In this commentary, rather than the Abraham’s deeds being a later source of blessing, Abraham himself is the source of blessing in the eyes of Abravanel.   As Abraham went on his journey, the qualities that led God to choose Abraham constantly impact others.

The perspective taken by Abravanel is reflected in a recent book by Professor Jon D. Levenson of Harvard University, whose book Inheriting Abraham examines the diverse and distinct ways that Judaism, Christianity, and Islam use Abraham as a means of enhancing their community’s religious faith.  Regarding Abraham’s later impact on the Jewish tradition, Levenson writes:

“In the Hebrew Bible, the point is not that these men were righteous but that they were the recipients of God’s gracious promise, and the Jewish people benefit not from any merit they supposedly accrued but from the irrevocable promise to them that centers on their descendants….the blessing on Abram has positive consequences for “all the families of the earth,” whose prosperity is owing to him through the benefits conferred by his descendants, the Jewish people” (Jon D. Levenson, Inheriting Abraham, 31).

According to Levenson, the Torah establishes that Abraham is, “not simply a byword of blessing...he is a universal source of blessing” (Ibid).   While Abraham ultimately impacts the world in the long-term, our parasha makes clear that his impact was also tremendous in the short-term.

When we educate our children to become exemplars of social and emotional intelligence, we typically frame these values in terms of how building these skills allows individuals to reap benefit over the long-term.    As result, we oftentimes forget to remind our children that being a person who exudes certain qualities causes them to be a blessing to others in the here-and-now, in the everyday interactions that ultimately paint the picture of who a person really is.   May we teach our children to embrace the example of Abraham, recognizing that a life of holiness leads us to be a person who is, in word and deed, a blessing.   

Shabbat Shalom!

Divrei Rav Josh: Parshat Noah: Strength in Silence

I suspect there would be no greater cliche than saying that the purpose of Schechter is to educate students to become Jewish leaders.   Yes, part of our mission is to help shape Jewish students in such way that they feel confident to go out into the world and take hold of what needs fixing.   At same time, an equally important part of our mission is to teach children the self-awareness of understand their own strengths and weaknesses to know when it is right for them step forward and be a leader.

Few parshiyot provide us greater opportunity to debate the nature of leadership than Parshat Noah.   Our rabbis engage in extensive debate as to whether or not Noah should be seen as a righteous individual of historical significance, or merely the best option amidst a wicked generation.  What I would like to suggest is that regardless of where we place Noah in the pantheon of leaders in the Torah, Noah’s leadership style can teach us something significant of about what it means to be a self-aware leader.

Regarding Noah, the Torah states, “Noah was a righteous man, blameless in his age; Noah walked with God” (Bereishit 6:9).   Rashi’s commentary asserts that the statement “Noah walked with God” actually alludes to Noah’s spiritual deficiency, for Noah needed God’s guidance through episode of the flood, in contrast to Abraham, who could fulfill God’s mission independently.   Rashi states:

“Noah walked with God”: “And regarding Abraham it says “Walk before God.”  Noah needed support to bear him up, but Abraham would strengthen himself and walk in his righteousness on his own”   (Rashi on Bereishit 6:9).

According to Rashi, Noah was a righteous figure, yet one whose personality required that God support him directly, as opposed to Abraham, who could walk “before God,” independently of God’s presence.

Upon a first reading, Rashi’s commentary appears to be yet another attempt to denigrate the leadership of Noah, assuming that Noah’s qualities would not place him in the pantheon of righteous individuals in the Torah.   However, we can read Rashi’s commentary in a such a way so that we might identify how Noah’s personality represents a hidden brand of strength we too often overlook.   

Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev writes in the Kedushat Levi that Noah’s need to walk “with God” is rooted in Noah’s humility that lead him to believe that he could only save himself and not others.   Rabbi Levi Yitzhak states:

“There are two types of tzaddikim who serve the Creator: there is the tzaddik who serves God faithfully and believes that he has the power to direct the cosmos according to his will...There is another type of tzaddik who serves the blessed Creator but who is so very lowly in his own eyes that he thinks to himself, “Who am I that I should pray to annul the decree?,” and therefore does not pray to do so…

Now even though Noah was a great and blameless tzaddik, he was very small in his own eyes and did not have faith that he was a powerful tzaddik with the ability to annul the decree of the flood.  In fact, he thought of himself as being equal to the rest of his generation.  He said, “If I am to be saved in the ark, and I am no more righteous than the rest of this generation, they too will be saved.”   Therefore, he did not pray to save the the people of his generation…” (Kedushat Levi on Bereishit 6:9).

For the Kedushat Levi, Noah could have walked independently of God, yet Noah took at humble stance when considering his place within the world in which he lived.  Because Noah took that humble stance, he saw himself as no better than the rest of his wicked generation, stifling his willingness to put himself out on the limb and speak truth to others.    While we might criticize Noah’s silence, the commentary of the Kedushat Levi can also teach us how Noah’s silence can remind us of the tension many of us experience when choosing whether or not to take a public stance that might be controversial.  Regarding this, Rabbi Arthur Green writes:

“...there are times when we need to stand tall and take action because we have talent, power, or opportunity to make a difference.  Whether or not we frame such expectations in miraculous terms, each of us has the potential to change reality in big and small ways.   The question is whether we choose to stand up and act for the good, even while knowing that we may not succeed and that our actions will be imperfect” (Arthur Green, Ebn Leader, Ariel Evan Mayse, Or N. Rose, Speaking Torah: Spiritual Teachings from around the Maggid’s Table, Vol. 1, 90).

Criticizing Noah for not speaking up for his generation takes a far too simplistic approach to Noah’s character, for it was precisely Noah’s silence that reflected his style as a leader.   While we might argue that a more aggressive approach could have been warranted, all of us can recognize how the tension experienced by Noah is reflective of the tension any emerging leader will experience.

At Schechter, our hope is that each student will ultimately develop their own leadership style, their own approach to tackling the challenges facing the Jewish Community and the entire world.  Perhaps one child will be an Abraham, always willing to step forward and take charge, and perhaps another child will be a Noah, one whose strength lies within, but may not always know the right moment to take charge.   No matter the person, each leadership type has a moment appropriate for that approach, and our challenge is to celebrate the Abrahams, the Noahs, and every other type of emerging leader who walks through our doors.

Shabbat Shalom! 

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Balak: Enduring Relationships

When I read Parshat Balak, I remained fascinated by the dissonance between God’s actions in this week’s parasha and the Israelites’ overall conduct  in Sefer Bemidbar.   While God thwarts Balaam’s attempts at cursing the Israelites in a variety of way, one wonders as to why God chose to stand up to a people who had a rebelled against Moses at some point in the previous sections of the Torah.    

In an essay entitled, “Beginning to Teach,” Herbert Kohl writes that building an enduring educational relationship requires a long-term commitment on the part of the teacher for the student.   He writes:

“Of course, people are not buildings and that’s what makes observing their growth so interesting. Buildings do not build themselves, but people do. Understanding the complex relationships between self-growth and nurturing growth is essential to becoming a good teacher. Further, the love of nurturing and observing growth in others is essential to sustaining a life of teaching. This implies that no matter what you teach or how you present yourself to your students, you have to be on the learners’ side and to believe that they can and will grow during the time you are together. I am not sure of how that belief develops, yet it is characteristic of every fine teacher I’ve known” (Herbert Kohl, The Herb Kohl  Reader: Awakening the Heart of Teaching, pages 16-17).   

According to Kohl, good teaching requires that teachers commit themselves to growing along with the learner, and recognizing that an enduring relationship requires that both parties commit to one another, in spite of whatever twists and turns may take place over time.   Similarly, when we read Parshat Balak in the context of the other rebellions and complaints the Israelites brought against God and Moses, it is interesting to note the parallel nature of the relationship between God and the Jewish people, and the ideal relationship between teacher and student.   

For my final Dvar Torah of the year, I would like to share three rabbinic commentaries on Parshat Balak that view the story of Balaam through the prism of God’s relationship with the Jewish people.  First, when Balaam saddles his soon-to-be famous donkey, Rabbi Menahem Mendel of Kotzk, the great Hasidic Master, notices a parallel between Balaam’s journey and Abraham’s journey in the Akedah:

“How can we compare Abraham our Father to Balaam?   God said: “Abraham arose early in the morning and saddled his own donkey in order to fulfill God’s will, and nothing came of it, for I did not allow him to sacrifice Isaac, since I want this nation to exist.  Do you think that your [Balaam’s] desire to harm the children of Israel will not be disturbed by Me!?!?” (Menahem Mendel of Kotzk on Bemidbar 22:21, Torah Gems- Bamidbar, 210).   

This commentary notes that both Balaam and Abraham saddle a donkey to begin a journey to fulfill a morally questionable mission, yet in each case, ultimately God knew that he would cause these journeys to take twists and turns for the purpose of protecting the divine partnership with the Jewish people.  In each case, God needs the character to make this journey, yet the journey itself re-affirms God’s commitment to protect his people.

Second, Joseph Ibn Kaspi, a medieval grammarian and philosopher from France, argues that God demonstrated his love of the Jewish people not only by prohibiting Balaam from cursing them, but by turning the intended curse into a blessing.  Kaspi writes:

“A true friend will save his colleague any pain, even if he knows that no danger will ensure.  Similarly the Almighty, out of the abundance of His love for Israel, prevented Balaam from cursing them them, though He was aware that his curses were impotent.  But the Almighty did not rest content with this.  He went so far as to make Balaam bless the people to give them pleasure...” (Joseph Ibn Kaspi, Tirat Kesef).   

In this text, Kaspi recognizes that any curse offered by Balaam is, to some extent, moot, since God would never allow someone to curse the Jewish people.  Instead, the story of Balaam teaches us about God’s commitment to the Jewish people by way of the fact that an intended curse became a blessing.

Finally, a midrash from Bemidbar Rabbah notes that Balaam’s blessing itself is an acknowledgment of the enduring relationship between God and the Jewish people.   The midrash states:

“Balaam too looked at them and his eye came out as he gazed upon them; for he could not touch them, as it is stated: “And Balaam lifted up his eyes and saw Israel”--implying their standards.  He began to say: Who can harm such people?  They know their ancestry and their families (their family life is pure), as it is stated: “Dwelling according to his tribes.”  From here we understand that the standards were a source of greatness and protection to Israel (from promiscuity, since the standards implied a recognition of their family identity)” (Bemidbar Rabbah 2:3).   

To provide some background, when Balaam sees how the Israelites organized themselves in their tents, which allowed each family to live in modesty and privacy, leading Balaam to praise the beauty of Israel’s tents, later made famous in the liturgical passage, “Ma tovu ohalekha Yaakov mishkenotekha Yisrael.”  However, what is unique about this midrash is that recognizes that when Balaam saw the tents, he recognized that the tents themselves embodied the Israelites’ commitment to God, and the way God affected the Israelites.   

In each case, our commentaries recognize the connection between the stumbling blocks that prevented Balaam from cursing Israel, and the power of the relationship between God and the Jewish people.   While Sefer Bemidbar is filled with moments that tried God and Moses’ patience, Parshat Balak reminds us that the covenant between God and the Jewish people endures because the relationship is deemed important.   As we close another year at Schechter, we must remind ourselves of the same lesson from our parasha, recognizing how the relationships that our students form with their teachers, one another, and with the broader Schechter community do not simply disappear with the passing of each year, but remain embedded in their consciousness and affect them for the rest of their lives.   We all merit for the power of that idea.   

In closing, this Dvar Torah will be my last one for the 2012-2013, as Schechter Torah takes a summer break.  Our new website received almost 9000 visits in the first year, and I cannot wait for us to expand what we offer in the fall.   May this summer be one of countless learning moments, where we take the time to think about what is most important, and how we might grow and develop in the coming year.   All the rest is commentary...go and study.

Shabbat Shalom!

Dvar M’Tzion: Parshat Hukkat: Primal Waters

I write this Dvar Torah at Kibbutz Ketura, a pluralistic kibbutz in the Arava Region of Israel.   As our seniors begin the final days of their Israel experience, it remains fascinating to observe the ways the emotions of individuals within the group affect the ability of the group to function.   In Primal Leadership, Daniel Goleman, Richard Boyatzis and Annie McKee write about how a leader’s emotional intelligence can shape the overall functionality of a larger group.  They write:

“…groups are smarter than individuals only when they exhibit the qualities of emotional intelligence. Everyone in the group contributes to the overall level of emotional intelligence, but the leader holds special sway in this regard. Emotions are contagious, and it’s natural for people to pay extra attention to the leader’s feelings and behavior.  So, very often it is the group leader who sets the tone and helps to create the group’s emotional reality—how it feels to be part of the team” (Daniel Goleman, Richard E. Boyatzis, and Annie McKee, Primal Leadership: Learning to Lead with Emotional Intelligence, Kindle Edition).

While most of us are aware that emotions are contagious between individuals, the authors of Primal Leadership recognize that a leader’s emotional awareness within a group has a disproportionate affect on the overall group’s emotional intelligence, a lesson that we will learn within a sampling of commentaries on Moses leadership and the famous episode of striking the rock at Meriva.  

Parshat Hukkat describes the second time in the Torah when Moses drew water from a rock, only this second instance leads to harsh punishment, for after Moses strikes the water that provides the Israelites much-needed water, our parasha contains an admonishment God to Moses and Aaron:

“And the Lord spoke to Moshe and Aaron, Because you did not believe in Me, to sanctify Me in the eyes of the children of Israel, therefore you shall not bring this congregation in to the land which I have given them. It is the water of Meriva; because the children of Israel strove with the Lord, and He was sanctified by them” (Bamidbar 20:12-13).

Since these verses were first read, our biblical commentators struggled to understand why Moses’ conduct warranted exclusion from entering the land of Israel.   In truth, our commentators never agree on a single answer, yet a strand of commentaries argue that Moses’ inability to control his emotions ultimately lies at the root of his sin at the rock.

Comparing the two episodes in which Moses drew water from a rock, the Yalkut Shimoni, a compilation of midrashim on the Torah, writes that one can compare Moses’ approach to how a teacher ought to instruct students:

“Order the rock” (Num. 20:8) – it does not say “strike,” rather, “order.”   He said to him: When a lad is young, his Rabbi strikes him to teach him, but once he grows up, he reproves him with words.   Thus, the Holy One, blessed be He, said to Moses:  When this rock was young, you struck it, “Strike the rock” (Ex. 17:6), but now “order the rock”; teach it one lesson and it will give out water. (Yalkut Shimoni, par. 763- Text and translation from Bar-Ilan University).

In this midrash, just as one must change their teaching methods as students progress in maturity and understanding, Moses needed to change his approach to drawing rock from the water as he progressed in his role as a leader.   Because Moses did not show the leadership growth necessary to shepherd the Israelites at the next stage in their journey, Moses was prohibited from joining the Israelites when they enter the land of Canaan.

Focusing on Moses’ personal qualities, Moses Maimonides writes in his Shemonah Perakim that the episode at the rock in Parshat Hukkat was paradigmatic of a leader’s inability to show patience in the face of adversity. Maimonides states:

“…the sin of Moses lay in that he departed from the moral mean of patience to the extreme of wrath in so far as he exclaimed, "Hear now ye rebels" etc., yet for this God found fault with him that such a man as he should show anger in the presence of the entire community of Israel, where wrath is unbecoming.  This was a profanation of God's name…” (The Eight Chapters of Maimonides on Ethics, Trans. Joseph I. Gorfinkle, Columbia University Press, 1912, p. 67- Text and translation from Bar-Ilan University).

According to Maimonides, while it was not unreasonable for Moses to show impatience in a time of acute stress, the fact that Moses spoke harshly the Israelites, and struck the rock with his staff, revealed that Moses showed excessive impatience to both God and the Jewish people.    As such, Moses’ inability to control his emotions sowed the seeds of God’s punishment.

Finally, the Kedushat Levi, the Torah commentary of Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev, interprets this episode typologically, and argues that the words that Moses used in Parshat Hukkat are similar to the kind of destructive speech that draws a person away from God.   He writes:

“For there are two aspects of one who reproaches Israel that they should do the will of the Creator, blessed be He. The one who reproaches with positive words, that is to say, one who tells every man of Israel about his elevated level and the place of the source of his soul, that the soul of Israel is truly hewn from above the Throne of Glory, and the great pleasure that the Creator, blessed be He, derives, as it were, from the mitzvot of each man of Israel, and the great joy in all the worlds when a man of Israel performs the bidding of the Creator in this world. With this reproach, he inclines the heart of the people of Israel to do the will of the Creator, blessed be He, each man of Israel accepting upon himself the yoke of the heavenly kingdom. There is also one who reproaches Israel with harsh and humiliating words, to the point that they are compelled to do the will of the Creator. The difference between them is that the one who reproaches Israel with positive [words] raises the soul of Israel higher and higher, relating at all times the righteousness and greatness of Israel, how great is their power above. He is fit to be a leader of Israel. And the one who reproaches Israel with harsh words is not of this aspect” (Kedushat Levi, Parshat Hukkat- Text and translation from Yeshivat Har Etzion).

The Kedushat Levi argues that positive speech draws the Jewish people closer to the service of God, by stirring people’s hearts to do mitzvot.   However, Moses’ harsh words to the Israelites could only have the opposite effect, making the people feel as though they were worthless and ungrateful.    Therefore, even if Moses’ statement was technically accurate, the way in which the words were delivered contradicted everything that God desired for Israel.   

Although our rabbinic commentators never reach consensus on the single action that led to God’s punishment of Moses and Aaron, the above commentators provide us a window into the rabbis’ recognition of how a leader’s emotions can shape a group both positively and negatively.    While we teach our children about the relationship between emotions and shaping individual success, Parshat Hukkat reminds us about the equally important challenge of understanding the relationship between emotions and furthering group success.   Our task is to help our children learn how Moses’ mistake can provide us a roadmap to become patient, compassionate leaders, for leaders with those qualities will help create communities in that image, leading to a more patient, compassionate world.  

Shabbat Shalom!

Dvar M’Tzion- Parshat Korah: Selfless Leadership

I write this Dvar Torah overlooking the Kinneret, as I am traveling with our graduating senior class on their Israel trip.   As I watch our students come together to journey through our people’s homeland, I find myself thinking a great deal about what it means to shape Jewish leaders, and how Parshat Korah can provide as a paradigmatic example of what not to do as a leader.   For many people, the story of Korah is forever related to a famous text from Mishnah Avot, otherwise known as the Ethics of our Ancestors, which contrasts the conflict begun by Korah with the debates of Hillel and Shammai:

“When an argument is for the sake of heaven, the argument will lead to an established result. When an argument is not for the sake of heaven, it will not lead to any established result. What is an argument for the sake of heaven? That of Hillel and Shammai. What is an argument not for the sake of heaven? That of Korah and his group” (Mishnah Avot 5:17).

While this text is frequently cited to highlight the importance of making sure that a dispute is “for the sake of heaven,” the text reveals little about what precisely made Korah a person whose conflict was not worthy of heaven.  

A cursory reading of this week’s parasha exacerbates the above question, because the first time you read Parshat Korah, it would appear that the complaints offered by Korah are utterly reasonable.   The parasha opens:

“Korah the son of Izhar, the son of Kohath, the son of Levi took [himself to one side] along with Dathan and Abiram, the sons of Eliab, and On the son of Peleth, descendants of Reuben. They confronted Moses together with two hundred and fifty men from the children of Israel, chieftains of the congregation, representatives of the assembly, men of repute. They assembled against Moses and Aaron, and said to them, "You take too much upon yourselves, for the entire congregation are all holy, and the Lord is in their midst. So why do you raise yourselves above the Lord's assembly?" Moses heard and fell on his face” (Bemidbar 16:1-4).  

Because a first-reading of the Korah story does not reveal what precisely was wrong about Korah’s rebellion, we are required to interpret the subtle messages of the Torah-text to understand Korah’s true motivations, and see what lessons we might take from this episode.  Our rabbinic commentators argue that the evil intentions inherent in Korah’s rebellion were rooted in many different factors, three of which I will explore in this Dvar Torah, namely Korah’s selfish motivations, his ability to use charisma for a destructive purpose, and his willingness to take advantage of the Israelites in a state of vulnerability.  

First, a midrash tells us that Moses responds to Korah’s complaints by offering a personal reasonable explanation for why Moses and Aaron should be elevated above the Israelites, yet Korah is not interested in any explanation that would undermine his desire to foment rebellion.  The midrash states:

“Thus Moses said to them:  If my brother Aaron had seized the priesthood for himself, your complaints against him would have been well-put.  But since it was given him by the Holy One, blessed be He – to Whom belong greatness, might, and majesty – is not anyone who rises up against Aaron rising up against the Holy One, blessed be He?  Therefore it is written, “For who is Aaron that you should rail against him?””  (Bemidbar Rabbah 18:9).

In this midrash, Moses makes clear that Aaron’s position is given by divine mandate, yet Korah has no interest in any answers, no matter how logical.  By implication, this midrash concludes that Korah’s rebellion was evil precisely because Korah did not care about the answers to his pernicious questions, but rather wanted to cause trouble for Moses for the sake of causing trouble.  

Second, Rashi comments we know that Korah’s rebellion was of a sinister nature because the Torah says that Korah “took” a group of people into his rebellion. Rashi writes:

“And Korah took”-He took himself aside, to be separated from the congregation [so as] to rise up against the priesthood, and for this reason Onkelos translates [the word “took”] as “he separated himself”…Another explanation: “And Korah took”—He drew the judges among them with his words…” (Rashi on Bemidbar 16:1). 

This commentary takes the form of a “double-Rashi,” where Rashi offers two potential commentaries on a single verse, leaving the reader to either choose from the outlined options, or see each commentary as offering a distinct reading on the same text.    In either case, Rashi argues that when Korah took people into his rebellion, he made the deliberate decision to separate himself from the community, and use his stature to bring potential converts into his rebellious orbit.    As such, Korah’s evil is rooted in his ability to use power and charisma to undermine and Moses’ mission, and, by extension, God’s covenant with the Jewish people. 

Finally, in a modern commentary, Rabbi Jonathan Saks, the outgoing Chief Rabbi of the United Kingdom, writes that seeing Korah in his biblical context understands how Korah’s rebellion was really an opportunistic individual taking advantage of a vulnerable people.   Saks writes:

“As Ramban explains, it is no accident that the Korah rebellion happened in the aftermath of the story of the spies. So long as the people expected to enter the Promised Land, they stood to lose more than gain by challenging Moses’ leadership. He had successfully negotiated all obstacles in the past. He was their best hope. But as a result of the spies, that whole generation was condemned to die in the wilderness. Now they had nothing to lose. When people have nothing to lose, rebellions happen” (Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, “Taking it Personally,” Covenant and Conversation, OU Torah, 23 JUNE 2011, http://www.ou.org/index.php/torah/_article/88286/).

According to Saks, Korah chose a moment when the Israelites were most willing to rebel against Moses’ leadership, and it is this calculated decision that lies at the core of Korah’s evil.    In truth, Korah chose to rebel at this particular time because it was opportunistic time to make a power-play, yet it is that decision that makes Korah’s rebellion what it was, namely a controversy far away from heaven.

Each of the above commentaries brings me back to the mishnah from Mishnah Avot.  The reason why Korah’s dispute was not for the sake of heaven was because Korah’s intentions in bringing about the rebellion were disingenuous and self-serving at their very core.   In contrast, transformative leadership, the kind epitomized both Hillel and Shammai, requires that a leader uses authority to achieve communal sanctity and divine purpose.   As our seniors take the final steps of their journey at Schechter, may we embrace the task of reminding them about what it means to take hold of Jewish community as their future leaders, engaging in the selfless, holy task of bringing people together to serve God and one another.

Shabbat Shalom!

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Shelakh Lekha: Emotions on the Fringes

Daniel Goleman writes in Emotional Intelligence that impulse control is one of the key skills in developing one's "Emotional Quotient" (EQ).   He writes:

"A key ability in impulse control is knowing the difference between feelings and actions, and learning to make better emotional decisions by first controlling the impulse to act, then identifying alternative actions and their consequences before acting.  Many competences are interpersonal: reading social and emotional cues, listening, being able to resist negative influences, taking others' perspectives, and understanding what behavior is acceptable to a situation" (Daniel Goleman, Emotional Intelligence, 259).  

According to Goleman, by learning to control impulses, a person develops the capacity to engage in higher-order relationships with other people, which thereby allows them to more successful navigate the personal and emotional challenges that so often keep people from actualizing their potential.  In Parshat Shelakh Lekha, we will see a similar emphasis places upon impulse control through the mitzvah of tzitzit, which our rabbis argue is a mitzvah designed to control our passions so that we might serve God.

In the passage from our parasha that outlines the mitzvah of tzitzit, our parasha contains a curious reference as to the connection between wearing these tzitzit and promoting right conduct by the Israelites:

"This shall be fringes for you, and when you see it, you will remember all the commandments of the Lord to perform them, and you shall not wander after your hearts and after your eyes after which you are going astray" (Bemidbar 15:39).

Our rabbis explored the question of the connection between the image of seeing the tzitzit and engaging in right-conduct and performing God's will.   In his scholarly commentary on the Book of Numbers, Jacob Milgrom writes the following:

"[Tzitzit] are mnemotechnical devices to remind Israel of God's commandments.   Indeed, the purpose of all ritual is, by means of sensual experience, to lead to conviction and finally to action.   The rabbis formulated it thus: "Sight leads to memory and memory to action"" (Jacob Milgrom, The JPS Torah Commentary: Numbers, 128).

Milgrom argues that the tzitzit are a catalyst to commitment a way for the Israelites to a view a physical reminder of their covenant with God, and then act upon their covenant by performing the mitzvot.   However,  in our traditional commentaries, our rabbis will offer a variety of explanations for how this transition from viewing to action takes place.

Rashi's commentary on this verse focuses on the composition of the tzitzit as the way in which a person's eyes will be affected by viewing the tzitzit.  Referencing a midrash from Bemidbar Rabbah, he writes we remember the mitzvot by how the tzitzit are tied:

"You will remember all the commandments of the Lord": because the numerical value of the word tzitzit is six hundred.  [Add to this 600] Eight threads and five knots, and we have six hundred and thirteen" (Rashi on Bemidbar 15:39).  

According to Rashi, because the word tzitzit and the knots and threads of the tzitzit add up to 613, the total number of mitzvot in the Torah, it follows that wearing the tzitzit affect our performance of the mitzvot by providing us a symbolic reminder of all the mitzvot.   Rashi continues by stating citing a different text from Midrash Tanhuma that this reminder will provide a mental check when we are tempted to go astray:

"And you shall not wander after your hearts": "Lo toturu," like "from scouting the Land" (13:5).   The heart and eyes are the spies for the body.  They are its agents for sinning: the eye sees, the heart coverts and the body commits the transgression" (Rashi Ibid.).   

Reading the verse contextually, Rashi asserts that just as the spies in our parasha were influenced to sin by means of what they saw, God commands the Israelites to wear tzitzit so that they might wear something that will influence them to do good, rather than evil.

In a later commentary, Ibn Ezra focuses on the practical tension of wearing the tzitzit in everyday life, and questions whether it is more important to wear tzitzit during tefillot or during the rest of the day.  He writes:

"Those who wear a prayer shawl while praying do so because they recite versus 37-41 as the third paragraph of the Shema.  However, in my opinion, it is more important to wear the fringes during the rest of the day than it is during prayer.   One must observe God's commandments all day, and during prayer is the least likely time for a transgression..."And eyes": The eyes see and the heart desires.   The fringes are both a sign and a symbol that one should not follow the promptings of his hear nor pursue everything his eyes seek" (Ibn Ezra on Bemidbar  15:38-39).

Ibn Ezra's commentary emphasizes that by wearing the tzitzit at all times, as opposed to only during the prayer, the tzitzit fulfill their intended purpose, which is to remind people of the mitzvot at all times.  Like Rashi, Ibn Ezra's commentary argues that the tzitzit are a means by which Israelites will learn to control their passions, and engage in self-control when tempted to diverge from God's will.  

Whether we are teaching our students about how to pursue a life of mitzvot, or helping them deal with difficult people in group projects or the workplace, teaching how to control one's destructive emotions is an essential task of Jewish education.   Like the tzitzit, the more we create habit loops by which we remember how to fight certain impulse, the better we are able to form meaningful relationships with one another in our everyday life, and the better are able to cultivate a life of mitzvot in our spiritual lives.   May we challenge ourselves, our children, and our community, to use the mitzvah of tzitzit to promote the healthy, balance emotions that form the heart of a emotionally intelligent Jewish life.

Shabbat Shalom!

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Be'ha'alotkha: Watching and Protecting

One of the books I consider most important to my work with Jewish teenagers is Group Work With Adolescents, a social work textbook written by Andrew Malekoff, who works on the North Shore of Long Island.  In this book, Malekoff states that adolescents need the following to become healthy, productive adults:

"For adolescents to become healthy and constructive adults, they must find ways to reach the following goals: find a valued place in a constructive group; learn how to form close, durable human relationships; feel a sense of  worth as a person; achieve a reliable basis for making informed choices; know how to use support systems available to them; express constructive curiosity and exploratory behavior; find ways of being useful to others; and believe in a promising future with real opportunities" (Andrew Malekoff, Group Work With Adolescents).

A close reading of this passage a reveals a tension with which educators must grapple when working with teenagers.  On the one hand, teenagers need to know that supportive adults are available for them when they feel they cannot address a problem alone.  On the other hand, teenagers also need to be given the independence for adult mentors to be their 'guide on the side,' a constant presence that can be called upon when needed, but not someone who never gives that teenager even an inch of independence.   By extension, a successful educative relationship between adults and a teenagers requires a balance between support and independence, between remaining close and letting go.

A similar tension is found in how rabbis imagine the journey of the Israelites to Canaan in Parshat Be'ha'lotkha.   This parasha describes the words that Moses would recite as the Israelites marched with the ark in the wilderness, and one of these verses is recited each time we remove a Sefer Torah from the Aron Ha-Kodesh:

"And it came to pass, when the Ark set forward, that Moses said, 'Rise up, Lord, and let Your enemies be scattered; and let them that hate You flee before You.'  And when it rested, he said, 'Return, O Lord, unto the many thousands of Israel'" (Bemidbar 10:35-36).  

Examining these verses, Robert Alter argues that we should play close attention to the Torah's visual imagery:

""Rise," as several commentators have noted, also has a military sense of "attack," but the visual image of elevation is important- God, imagined as enthroned on the cherubim carved over the Ark, surges up like a warrior-king as the Ark is lifted to be carried forward" (Robert Alter, Numbers 10:35-36, The Five Books of Moses: A Translation With Commentary, 733).

The Torah wants us to see God in a dominant position when these words are invoked.  However, for our rabbinic commentators, the fact that the Moses needed to recite specific words each time the ark moved in the wilderness seems curious.  After all, if God previously told the Israelites that he would protect them, why does Moses need to ask for God's protection at all, much less every time the Israelites and the ark moved forward?

Our midrashim disagree as to how we should interpret the verses from Bemidbar, and whether or not Moses' statements show a complete trust in God, or remind God not to forget the Israelites as they marched through the desert.  Midrash Tanhuma takes the latter position, and argues that Moses' statement was a reminder to God to offer protection:

"Since the Ark used to go three days ahead to find them a resting place day and night – as it says:  "The Ark of the Covenant of the Lord traveled in front of them on that three days' journey to seek out a resting place for them" (Num. 10:33) – at such time Moses would say, "Rise, O Lord, etc.," i.e., stand still and wait for us and do not leave us behind, for it says:  "When the Ark was to set out, Moses would say: Advance, O Lord!  May Your enemies be scattered, etc."" (Midrash Tanhuma, Parshat Vayakhel paragraph 7).

In this midrash, when Moses recites the words from our parasha, he reminds God not to forget the Israelites as they march through the dangerous wilderness.   Contextually, one sees the appeal in this commentary, as the Israelites encountered many enemies throughout the wilderness, and each time Moses relied upon God's protection to help the Israelites emerge victorious in battle.  

In contrast, a midrash from the Sifrei asserts that the liturgy recited upon marching with the ark demonstrated the incredible trust between Moses and God, as opposed to reflecting Moses' need to remind God not to forget them:

"And Moses said, 'Rise up, Lord," and another verse says, "At the commandment of the Lord they rested and at the commandment of the Lord they journeyed."  How can these two verses be reconciled?  To what may this be compared?  To a king who was going on a journey accompanied by his bosom friend.  When he resumes his journey he says: "I shall not go forward until my friend gives the order, and when he halts he says: "I shall not stop until my friend comes along."   This reconciles the verse "And Moses said, 'Rise up, Lord,'" and, "At the commandment of the Lord they journeyed..." (Sifrei on Bemidbar 10:35).

Comparing the verse cited above with another verse in Sefer Bemidar, the Sifrei asserts that Moses did not beseech God because he was worried that God would not protect the Israelites, but rather because Moses trusted God so implicitly that he wanted to ensure that God would remain with them on each stage of the journey.  Nehama Leibowitz argues that this midrash "graphically illustrates the highest degree of communion and closeness between man and his Maker, and the complete identity of aim" (Nehama Leibowitz, Studies in Bamidbar, 90).

The above midrashim highlight an essential theological tension.  Our rabbis asked how Moses would ensure that the Israelites could march through the desert unafraid, and should the Israelites invoke God's protection only when they felt alone and powerless, or should they invoke God's name because they felt extremely confident at all times?  In Midrash Tanhuma, Moses implores God not to leave the Israelites behind, implying that Moses entertained the possibility that God might not remain with them for duration of their journey.   In the Sifrei, Moses' calls to God indicate a supreme trust between humanity and God, for Moses cannot imagining taking any step their journey without God, and thus God's presence should be invoked at all times.     However, it is most likely that the journey of the Israelites reflected aspects of each midrash, where sometimes the Israelites felt alone and called upon to provide immediate support, and other times the Israelites were content for God to be the 'guide on the side,' not always stepping in to fight their battles, but being a constant presence of support.

At Schechter, our students rely upon our educators and community members to play a similar in shaping their lives an emerging Jewish adults.   Students of all ages, and especially teenagers, want to feel that they can work out problems for themselves, yet they also value the assurance of knowing that they will not be alone on an island, unable to find help when they face struggles they cannot fight alone.   May each of us embrace the tension of guiding our children in lives as emerging adults and as Jews, knowing when to step up, step back, or simply watch, for each action is essential to building a community of passionate, healthy, confident, and resilience young men and women.

Shabbat Shalom!