Sin and exile: a parallel narrative

Our member, rabbi and author Steven Ettinger, has turned his downtime during missile attacks to positive use by exercising his brain and his imagination to good purpose. Look what he has been thinking:

Sitting in the ma’amad with little else to do, one’s mind can wrestle with anxiety or can be distracted with something more constructive. I am choosing the latter – typing some stream of consciousness ideas about this week’s parshah, Shelach Lecha.

For some prognosticators, this is the start of World War II, an “end of the world” scenario.  So naturally, a good launching pad for my thoughts is at the very beginning. Hashem created the world with “asarah ma’amarot”, ten utterances. He completed the process by animating Adam HaRishon, the prototype human – who promptly succumbed to his evil inclination and was exiled from paradise.

Several millennia later Hashem repeated this pattern, albeit for a nation rather than for an individual. He did not create a single person but the ultimate people, Am Yisroel.  In place of ten utterances there were ten plagues. In place of seven days there were seven weeks.  There is one significant difference, however. Adam, after eating from the Tree of Knowledge, was prevented from eating from the Tree of Life. Hashem gave the Jewish Nation a tree of BOTH knowledge and life, the Torah, “eitz chaim hi.”

There is still one aspect left to discuss, the sin and the exile. In Eden, the story is succinct and clear – a well-known narrative.  The story has a beginning (“do not eat from the fruit of the tree”), a middle (the story of how they ate) ,and an end (the punishment).  There is even a villain upon whom some of the blame can be cast.

If the events of the Exodus present a parallel creation story, then where is this sin and exile narrative?

It would be tempting to answer that Am Yisrael or, more precisely, the generation that was redeemed from Egypt, was denied entry to the Land of Israel, a form of pre-exile, because of the sin of the Golden Calf. This would fit the mold precisely. They were given two interrelated commands, that they heard directly from Hashem: that He is their God and they are to have no others besides Him. They proceeded immediately to violate these directives.

This MAY have been the “sin.” However, “the consequence was NOT “exile”. Several thousand died, but there was forgiveness (“salachti ki’dvarecha”), not punishment. So perhaps the parallel narrative is to be found elsewhere, like in parashat Shelach Lecha.

In our parashah, the spies go out to see the land, they return with a bad report and the people despair. For this they are all punished and condemned to die in the desert over the next 40 years. This is their sin and exile.

However, if this truly is the “sin and exile”, if this is a continuation of our nation’s creation story: Where is the parallel narrative?  Where were they tempted? What command did they violate? Why the length of the punishment?  The answers to these questions will show us just how similar the two patterns are.

The parallel narrative is the story of the spies, with one caveat – there is one small link back to the sin of the Golden Calf. When Hashem forgave them, it was not exactly unconditional. In Ex. 32:34 He states: “u’veyom pakdi, uphakaditi alehem chatatam.” (on the day of accounting, I will call to count their sin). In other words, they may be getting a pass today. However, in the future, I will remember what they did now and the future punishment will be enhanced.

The temptation here for the nation, their protagonist, is the spies. Like the nachash in the Creation story, they present themselves as good guys.  They show concern for the nation.  But they, literally, are snakes in the grass.

The command they violated was based on Hashem’s concession to Moshe, “shelach lecha” (“send for yourself”).  Hashem in this instance delegated to Moshe the authority to “command” a task.  Moshe provided the meraglim with a specific set of instructions in order to enable Am Yisrael to immediately thereafter enter the Land of Israel, without any further delay.

 Moshe had been their leader for a little over two years. He had not only led them out of Egypt, performing many miracles, and twice delivered the Torah, but he defended them from destruction after the sin of the Golden Calf. How could they pervert his command and then rebel against him? THIS was the violation of God’s command – not following the letter and spirit of Moshe’s directives. The consequences of their actions were so fatal that Moshe himself would never enter Eretz Yisroel!

The length of the punishment is forty years. Moshe defended them for forty days; Hashem even offered to destroy the Jewish People and start again with Moshe as the progenitor. Forty years, the period necessary to eliminate this entire generation, was the required consequence. This is more than paying mere lip service to the concept of measure for measure, this defines justice.

We cannot ever presume to understand Hashem’s plans and actions in this world. But, looking back, we can sometimes discern patterns. There was a pattern in the creation of Man and we can see a similar pattern in the creation of our nation. Great tragedies have befallen our nation and out of the ashes we have experienced a great re-birth and many, many miracles.

So we sit in our shelters, seeing the Hand of Hashem revealed minute by minute. When we look back, perhaps in a mere few days from now, we might well find that we witnessed Hashem completing the pattern of His third and final creation -- not the creation of  Adam HaRishon -- the prototypical man or the creation of Am Yisrael – the ultimate people, but the creation of Yemot HaMashiach – the purpose for all existence.

Uniformity and self-expression

Here's an original take on the longest parashah in the Torah, brought to you by our member Rabbi Steven Ettinger. 

The United States, as represented most recently in the persona of its current President, can be characterized as a consumer culture. There is intense focus on advertising and marketing:  selling a dream, creating a demand, and making people believe that they cannot live without the latest and greatest. The hucksters and shillers create slogans, and jingles, burn images in our minds and even create fake holidays to promote a culture of buy, buy, buy. One such gimmick to boost sales during the dog days of summer was “Christmas in July.”

                                

Reading Parshat Naso provides an echo of that last slogan.  During the redundancy as the ba’al keriah cantillates the offerings of the nesi’im which are essentially the same six verses repeated over and over twelve times, some might actually be meditating on sufganiot and chanukiot rather than keeping the section in context – since this is also the reading for Chanukah. In other words, we have Chanukah in June!

Monotonous repetition, mantra-like, can be a trigger for meditation. Or it can lull you to sleep. This parsha of the nesi’im is repetitive and it seems to serve little purpose (yes, the commentators provide a variety of explanations why the Torah sets aside such valuable real estate for this). However, there is, in fact, a significant difference in the offerings for each day – the name of the nasi!

Nachshon ben Aminadav of the Tribe of Yehudah brought his offering on the first day. Regardless of what he brought; it was his offering. The pasuk does not say that he brought it on behalf of the tribe, simply that he was of the tribe (Rashi makes this point explicitly quoting the Sifri), it is an identifier. He brought one of each possible type of offering: olah, mincha, chatat/asham, shelamim. ketoret (see Sforno). Thus, each korban was imprinted with his individuality – his awe, his excitement, his passion, his insecurity, his faith, his creativity, his self-sacrifice – everything that made him Nachshon ben Aminadav.

This was true for Netanel ben Tzu’ar and every nasi through Achirah ben Enan. There was no discretion regarding what to bring, just as we have no choice as to which 613 mitzvot to observe. However, each nasi approached the Mishkan and the mizbe’ach on his day in his own unique way.

This inner self-expression amidst such an outward display of uniformity was the culmination of Hashem’s vision for the Mishkan. “Va’asu li Mikdash, veshachanti betocham” – “Construct a Tabernacle for me so that I may dwell in their midst.” Chazal have famously interpreted “betocham” in a completely literal manner – “within them” – not within the Mishkan --  not even within the camp, but within each and every Jew.

The nesi’im may have each brought physical offerings, in fact, the exact same grouping of offerings. However, and more importantly, they infused those offerings with every facet of their internal selves. By doing this, they effectively created internal space – a space that could be filled with the Shechinah, as the outward Mishkan itself was at that very moment. Their gifts allowed Hashem to fulfill veshachanti be’tocham.

We all must be a part of the community. Wwe cannot separate from it and cannot stray too far from its norms and standards: “al tifrosh min hatzibur.” However, we also must find ways to express our belief and to define our relationship with HKB”H as individuals so that we give Him room to dwell within us.

Royalty v Chaos

 

Here's a timely debut blogpost by one of our newest members, Rabbi Steven Ettinger--live wire, author and tax lawyer. Thanks, Steve, for shedding some fresh light on the impending chag of Shavuot.

As with most of our religious practices, there are no straight answers, or more accurately, there are scores of alternative answers. Take, for example, the reading of Megillat Rut on Shavuot. Why do we read it? A recent search on Chabad.org provided a list of eight reasons and I am sure one could find sixty-two more.

First up on the list is the one that speaks most poignantly to me, that Shavuot is the day of birth and passing of Dovid Hamelech. The denouement of Megillat Rut leads into his birth. However, looking more closely, one can find a much deeper connection between this work and the life of Dovid: there is a character linked both to his rise and to his later near demise. She appears briefly; however, her character, actions and impact are significantly more far-reaching. Thematically, she influences the very conflict that envelopes us and our country today.

After Machlon and Chilion die in Moav, Naomi decides to return to Israel.  Her daughters-in-law Rut and Orpah initially accompany her. After a short while, she implores them to remain in Moav, but they are steadfast in their loyalty to her.  Back and forth they go, until Orpah finally relents -- but Rut perseveres.

It does not seem that Orpah is judged harshly. Just the opposite. The Talmud (Sota 42b) brings three opinions to support the “reward” she received for one of the following: kissing Naomi four times, shedding four tears, or accompanying her four mil upon their separation.

Chazal explain that although she was barren, Orpah merited to be the mother (or perhaps ancestor) of Goliath and three other giants (mighty warriors) that we find in Sefer Shmuel (see 2 Shmuel 21: 18-22). Goliath, of course, is identified with the revelation of Dovid’s destined greatness. Another of these giants, Ishbi, nearly kills Dovid, as recounted in an elaborate aggadah in Sanhedrin (95a).  It is interesting to note that, in this tale, Dovid is saved because Avishai ben Zeruiah kills Orpah and then subsequently is able to kill Ishbi by distracting him with news of her death.  Thus Orpah and her progeny are not mere antagonists but their destinies are intertwined with those of Dovid.

Circling back to Megilat Rut and Shavuot and its connection to Dovid Hamelech, how is Orpah still relevant to our contemporary story? Does she continue to play a role in the destiny of “Dovid v’zaroh?”

The simple reading of the story presented two similar and compassionate women – differentiated by one small action. One remained with Naomi and one returned home. However, as the story unfolded, through time and the eyes of Chazal, there was a divergence. One woman, Rut, became the symbol of purity and beauty. She was the mother of royalty of the hero. The other, Orpah , devolves into an ugly, deceitful person who is the mother of those who threaten the hero and Israel’s very existence.

The moment Orpah walked away was no mere familial split; it represented the separation of the values of Moav from those of Yehudah. The contrast between Rut and Orpah – and later between their descendants -- represents an existential struggle between tribes and nations. This is ultimately the contrast between good and evil -- moral and the immoral.  That separation occurred at the very moment Rut declared “Amech ami,  v’Elokaich Elokai” –words that represented her acceptance of the Torah and its obligations – values that Orpah could not assimilate.

The cults of death, the immoral, the haters, the ones we battle every day are the ones who walked away with Orpah . They chose and continue to choose to reject the opportunity accept and constantly reaffirm of the ethic of the Brit of Matan Torah, that runs through Rut and Dovid and their actions, that will assure us of victory.