Following in Their Ways – The Eternal Struggle Against Avodah Zarah

This parashah shiur is based on a Shiur given by Rabbi Wein ztz’l on August 30,2024

 In this week’s parashah, we encounter a passage that reverberates throughout Jewish history and Jewish life. Moshe warns the people:

הִשָּׁ֣מֶר לְךָ֗ פֶּן־תִּנָּקֵשׁ֙ אַֽחֲרֵיהֶ֔ם אַֽחֲרֵ֖י הִשָּֽׁמְדָ֣ם מִפָּנֶ֑יךָ וּפֶן־תִּדְר֨שׁ לֵאלֹֽהֵיהֶ֜ם לֵאמֹ֗ר אֵיכָ֨ה יַֽעַבְד֜וּ הַגּוֹיִ֤ם הָאֵ֨לֶּה֙ אֶת־אֱלֹ֣הֵיהֶ֔ם וְאֶֽעֱשֶׂה־כֵּ֖ן גַּם־אָֽנִי

“Take heed… lest you inquire after their gods, saying: ‘How did these nations serve their gods, that I may do the same?’” (דברים י״ב:ל)

 This verse is not merely a historical warning about ancient idolatry. It points to a deep spiritual and cultural struggle that the Jewish people have faced in every generation: the temptation to imitate the practices, priorities, and lifestyles of the nations around them.

 How Far Does Avodah Zarah Go?

 Rashi, citing the Gemara (סנהדרין ס׳ ע״ב), explains: 

“כְּגוֹן מַרְקוּלִיס שֶׁדַּרְכּוֹ לְהַשְׁלִיךְ לוֹ אֲבָנִים, וְהַשּׁוֹלֵךְ לוֹ אֶבֶן, חַיָּיב”

 “For example, the idol Marculis, whose way of worship is to throw stones at it—one who throws even a single stone is liable.”

 Even though such an act appears disrespectful, when done as ritual it becomes idolatry. But what if someone bows to Marculis, even though its typical service is throwing stones? Rashi notes that bowing itself is universally considered an act of worship, so it too constitutes avodah zarah: 

“אֲבָל הַמִּשְׁתַּחֲוֶה לוֹ—אַף עַל פִּי שֶׁאֵין דַּרְכּוֹ בְּכָךְ—חַיָּיב”

 “But one who bows to it—even though that is not its way—he is liable.”

 The Rambam expands on this principle: 

“כָּל עֲבוֹדָה שֶׁהִיא דֶּרֶךְ כָּבוֹד—אַף עַל פִּי שֶׁאֵינָהּ דֶּרֶךְ עֲבוֹדָתוֹ—חַיָּיב עָלֶיהָ”

 “Any form of service that is a way of honor—even if not the idol’s usual service—one is liable for.” (הלכות עֲבוֹדַת כּוֹכָבִים ג:ג)

The Torah’s purpose, says the Rambam, is to distance us from avodah zarah entirely, for it has always exerted a powerful psychological pull. 

The Pressure of the Majority

Moshe’s warning is not only theological but deeply psychological: How could it be that so many nations are wrong? How can a tiny minority insist on saying “no” when the whole world seems to say “yes”?

כִּי עַם־קָדוֹשׁ אַתָּה לַה׳ אֱלֹהֶיךָ… וּבְךָ בָּחַר ה׳ לִהְיוֹת לוֹ לְעַם סְגֻלָּה

 “For you are a holy people to Hashem your God… and Hashem has chosen you to be His treasured people.” (דברים ז:ו)

 The Torah recognizes that it is hard to be a despised minority, mocked for standing apart. Yet that is precisely the Jewish destiny: to remain faithful even against the tide of the majority. 

Darkei Emori – The Ways of the Nations 

Beyond worship itself, the Torah forbids imitating pagan practices—darkei Emori. The Mishnah teaches: 

“דַּרְכֵי הָאֱמוֹרִי—כָּל מִינֵי נִחוּשׁ שֶׁהָיוּ אוֹמְרִים…”

“The ways of the Emorites—these are all forms of superstition that they would practice…” (שבת סז ע״א)

 Throughout Jewish history, this principle sparked debate:

● In 19th-century Germany, Reform synagogues introduced organ music to imitate churches. Orthodox authorities banned it, declaring it darkei Emori.

● Rabbi Yaakov Emden forbade decorating synagogues with flowers on Shavuot because it resembled Christian Easter celebrations—though most communities kept the custom, claiming Jewish precedent.

● The Rambam insisted that all superstition—lucky numbers, red strings, omens—is forbidden: 

“כָּל הַמְנַחֵשׁ אוֹ מְעוֹנֵן—לוֹקֶה. וְאֵין בְּדְבָרִים הָאֵלּוּ דָּבָר שֶׁל חָכְמָה כְּלָל”

 “Anyone who practices divination or soothsaying is liable to lashes. There is no wisdom in these things whatsoever.” (הלכות עֲבוֹדַת כּוֹכָבִים יא:טז)

 The reasoning is clear: imitation in custom can lead to assimilation in spirit.

 Drawing the Line 

Where, then, do we draw the line?

● Should rabbis wear clerical robes like priests? Some German communities said yes; Eastern European Jews said no.

● Should synagogues adopt church-like decorum? Opinions diverged.

● Even the simple presence of a clock in a synagogue once sparked a Lithuanian rabbi to quip: “I see Reform has already arrived here!” 

The Rambam provides a guiding principle: 

כָּל מַה שֶּׁנִּמְצָא שֶׁיֵּשׁ בּוֹ תּוֹעֶלֶת מִנִּימוּסֵי הַגּוֹיִם—אֵין בּוֹ מִשּׁוּם חֻקּוֹתֵיהֶם. וְכָל מַה שֶּׁאֵין בּוֹ טַעַם רָאוּי—אָסוּר

 “Anything found among the nations that has a clear benefit is not included in the prohibition. But anything with no rational basis is forbidden.” (הלכות עֲבוֹדַת כּוֹכָבִים יא:א)

 Thus, medicine is permitted because it heals, while quack remedies—once tied to superstition—are forbidden. 

The Eternal Struggle 

Moshe’s words echo through the generations: the Jewish people must often stand apart, resisting the lure of majority culture. This has never been easy. 

הֶן־עָם לְבָדָד יִשְׁכֹּן וּבַגּוֹיִם לֹא יִתְחַשָּׁב

 “Behold, it is a people that dwells alone, and is not reckoned among the nations.” (במדבר כג:ט)

 The idols of today are different: money, fame, power, ideology. Yet the temptation to bow to them, to imitate the world, remains just as strong. The Torah reminds us to guard our uniqueness, to hold fast to truth, and to avoid being swept away by borrowed customs.  

שַׁבָּת שָׁלוֹם

Calves may come and calves may go: Ki Tisa 5785

This week’s Torah reading is dominated by the tragedy of the Golden Calf and its consequences. This episode follows teachings regarding the sanctity of the Shabbat. The rabbis attributed the presence of Shabbat as an indication that even the construction of the Mishkan cannot take precedence over the sanctity of Shabbat.  But that is not all. The dangers of Golden Calves, false gods, superficially bright and enticing ideals that only lead to eventual disaster, are ever-present in Jewish society. Our long history as a people contains is a long list of Golden Calves that have led us astray, to our great cost.

 Paganism, Hellenism, false messianism, Marxism, secularism, nationalism, humanism and unbridled hedonism—to name but a few—have all exacted a terrible toll over our history. But Shabbat, its holiness and its withdrawal from the mundane and impious world have always stood as a refuge, a bulwark against these Golden Calves. Shabbat is our first and strongest line of defense against the wave of falsehood and evil that constantly threatens to engulf us.

Without Shabbat we are lost. With Shabbat we are ever strong. Few things in history are that simple to discern, but the saving grace of Shabbat for Jewish society is plainly obvious. This is why, in parshat Vayakhel, the admonition regarding the laws of Shabbat is repeated in conjunction with a further review of the construction of the Mishkan. The Torah wishes to emphasize, that short of human life itself, no cause—no matter how seemingly noble—takes precedence over the sanctity of Shabbat which, in its eternity and God-given holiness, is likened to the World to Come. How often, when we rush to build, do we destroy and, in our desire to accomplish great things, trample on nobility and moral righteousness.

In the Talmud the great sage Baba ben Buta warned King Herod not to destroy the old until the new has already been erected. The world often believes that the destruction of the old is somehow a necessary prerequisite to constructing the new. The Torah however comes to teach us that the old Shbabat already observed by the People of Israel, even before it was given at Mount Sinai, will outlive and outperform any shiny new Golden Calf that is worshipped so avidly. Golden Calves come and calves may go but Shabbat and Torah remain valid for all times and circumstances. This reflection is buttressed in the Torah by its repetition. The message: our Mishkan is built only with Shabbat and never in contravention of it.

 Shabbat shalom,  Rabbi Berel Wein