Parashat Masei, Numbers 33:1-36:13, Rosh Chodesh Av

There are times when personal concerns have a far-reaching impact.

As Yogi Berra said, "It's déjà vu all over again." Didn't we just deal with the issues raised by the daughters of Zelophehad a couple of weeks ago? Weren't we told by the head honcho – aka God Almighty – that the plea of Zelophehad's daughters is just (Numbers 27:7)?

Yet, here we are at the very end of the book of Numbers, after this issue has been resolved, and there's a problem: The family heads in the clan of the descendants of Gilead son of Machir son of Manasseh, one of the Josephite clans, came forward and appealed to Moses and the chieftains, family heads of the Israelites. They said, "The Lord commanded my lord to assign the land to the Israelites as shares by lot, and my lord was further commanded by the Lord to assign the share of our kinsman Zelophehad to his daughters. Now, if they marry persons from another Israelite tribe, their share will be cut off from our ancestral portion and be added to the portion of the tribe into which they marry; thus our allotted portion will be diminished. And even when the Israelites observe the jubilee, their share will be added to that of the tribe into which they marry, and their share will be cut off from the ancestral portion of our tribe." (Numbers 36:1-4)

This appears to be an early example of the "law of unintended consequences." That is, something deemed as positive can have unforeseen results. For example, England has had a no-smoking policy in pubs for just over a year. Among the consequences have been a drop in business for dry cleaners and increased demand for chefs in pubs. Of greater significance is the recent concern that the drive towards biofuels, meant to alleviate global warming, could inadvertently lead to famine in many parts of the world.

A significant example of unintended consequences was spotlighted by the New York Times a few weeks ago. The birth rate in Europe has plummeted. Why?

Accompanying the spectacular transformation of modern society since the 1960s — notably the changing role of women, with greater opportunities for education and employment, the advent of modern birth control and a new ability to tailor a lifestyle — has been a tension between forces that, in many places, have not been reconciled. That tension is perfectly apparent, of course. Ask any working mother. But some societies have done a better job than others of reconciling the conflicting forces. In Europe, many countries with greater gender equality have a greater social commitment to day care and other institutional support for working women, which gives those women the possibility of having second or third children.

Russell Shorto, No Babies?, New York Times Magazine, June 29, 2008

According to the article, the greatest challenge is within countries that accept modernity up to a certain point but maintain a strong traditional family system. In such a situation, women may be free to get an education, but they are still expected to be the stay-at-home mom, with little additional support. Researchers found this to be true in countries such as Italy and Greece, as well as in Asian countries. South Korea was found to have the lowest birth rate of all.

… By this logic, the worst sort of system is one that partly buys into the modern world — expanding educational and employment opportunities for women — but keeps its traditional mind-set. … The lesson of southern Europe is perhaps operative: embrace the modern only partway and you put your society — women in particular — in a vise. Something has to give, and that turns out to be the future.

Russell Shorto, No Babies?, New York Times Magazine, June 29, 2008

What does all this have to do with the daughters of Zelophehad? Both examples, European birth rates and biblical inheritance, are cases of personal concerns that have communal ramifications, some of which are unforeseen and unintended. It's not enough to educate your daughters. If society does not support the changes that come with education, society suffers.

It's not enough to say the daughters of Zelophehad have a just cause. Their just cause has repercussions for the entire social structure as is evident in Parashat Masei, where equally valid social concerns are raised by their kinsmen: So Moses, at the Lord's bidding, instructed the Israelites, saying: "The plea of the Josephite tribe is just. This is what the Lord has commanded concerning the daughters of Zelophehad: They may marry anyone they wish, provided they marry into a clan of their father's tribe. No inheritance of the Israelites may pass over from one tribe to another, but the Israelites must remain bound each to the ancestral portion of his tribe. Every daughter among the Israelite tribes who inherits a share must marry someone from a clan of her father's tribe, in order that every Israelite may keep his ancestral share. Thus no inheritance shall pass over from one tribe to another, but the Israelite tribes shall remain bound each to its portion." Numbers 36:5-9

Once Israel settled the land, we find out that the daughters of Zelophehad in accordance with the Lord's instructions were granted a portion among their father's kinsmen. (Joshua 17:4) It can be argued that this is the biblical equivalent of those countries with one foot in modernity and the other in traditionalism. Something was given to the daughters of Zelophehad, but there are so many restrictions that it is meaningless. Scholars point out that the land granted to these women remained theirs and was not transferred to their husbands. In fact, there are ostraca (pottery shards with writing) dating to the 8th century BCE that contain the names of two of the daughters, Hoglah and Noah, as place names. The names of all five sisters are associated with place names in ancient Israel, thus making a further connection between these woman and property. Jacob Milgrom notes that other ancient societies had laws of inheritance dealing with women. So this particular law as stated in Numbers 27 and amended in Numbers 36 brings the people of Israel into a contemporaneous setting.

Regarding the challenge raised by Zelophehad's daughters the Talmud teaches that "The section relating to the laws of inheritance was intended to have been written at the instance of Moses our Teacher. The daughters of Zelophehad, however, were found worthy to have the section recorded on their account." (Sanhedrin 8a, Soncino translation) There are times when personal concerns have a far-reaching impact. This one reverberated all the way to the heavens.

This last portion of the book of Numbers is called Masei, which means "marches." What a journey it has been! Numbers began with a census for military purposes dealing strictly with the men of the various tribes. It ends thirty-eight years later by naming women and addressing their situation. It is short-sighted of us to view this episode of Zelophehad's daughters as giving with one hand and taking with the other. Rather, we have here a concern for the welfare of both the individual and the society that is enacted at the highest level.

This concern is seen elsewhere in Parashat Masei, specifically in chapter 35, which deals with the cities of refuge. Six cities are set aside where a person who has accidentally killed another can seek refuge from an avenging family member. The individual is thus protected from vigilante justice, the law is upheld, and society is strengthened. Two problems affecting individuals and community, two creative solutions: cities of refuge and women's inheritance. Both are forward looking.

What makes the story of Zelophehad's daughters unique is that their situation brought about a change in the brit (covenant). This is a powerful message for liberal Jews who feel caught between tradition and modernity. It is also a point worth contemplating this Rosh Chodesh Av, the season when we recall the destruction of both Temples. What our ancestors couldn't foresee is that these catastrophic events did not end Judaism; they shaped it. Masei teaches us to look ahead, be open, and realize that Judaism can benefit from what the future holds.

Shabbat shalom,
MS

Parashat Matot, Numbers 30:2-32:42

This Parasha has been generously sponsored by Harriet Train in loving memory of her father Louis Train.

Somewhere along his life's journey, Balaam lost his moral compass.

Kohelet taught that a good name is better than fragrant oil (Ecclesiastes 7:1). When all else is gone, it is a person's reputation that matters. Today, names are brands. How else to explain the myriad of celebrity names associated with everything from scarves to scents to salad dressing.

In the past few portions there have been names that keep reappearing. Last week we read about the daughters of Zelophehad; they'll be back next week. So too, Pinchas appears both last week and this week. A few weeks ago we were introduced to Balaam, the prophet hired by the Moabite King, Balak, to curse the Israelites. Balaam is unable to do so and under God's guidance blesses Israel.

This week he is named as one of the causalities of the campaign to wreak the Lord's vengeance on Midian. (Numbers 31:3). Further on we are told that the Midianite women at the bidding of Balaam, induced the Israelites to trespass against the Lord in the matter of Peor, so that the Lord's community was struck by the plague (Numbers 31:16).

What happened to the Balaam who found himself unable to curse the Israelites, the same Balaam whose words are repeated at every morning service, Mah tovu, How fair are your tents, O Jacob,/Your dwellings, O Israel! (Numbers 24:5) Did we miss something?

Recall that in Parashat Balak, Balaam kept reiterating that he would only do what God permitted him to do. Nothing could sway him from this. Balaam is recalled favorably by the prophet Micah. My people, /Remember what Balak king of Moab/ Plotted against you/ And how Balaam son of Beor/ Responded to him (Micah 6:5). Midrash Numbers Rabbah (14:20) even makes a positive comparison between Moses' prophetic abilities and Balaam. When God spoke with Moses, Moses always stood and they spoke "mouth to mouth" and "face to face." On the other hand, unlike Moses, Balaam always knew that it was God speaking with him; he knew when God was speaking with him and Balaam could initiate a dialogue whenever he pleased!

Still, Numbers 31 makes it very clear that there is a tradition in which Balaam is "no more Mister Nice Guy." Israel's sin at Ba'al Peor appears in Parashat Balak directly after the story of Balaam. Verse 16 explicitly states that Balaam was the instigator. What exactly was the bidding of Balaam to the Midianites? Rashi, citing Tractate Sanhedrin (106b) and Midrash Sifre, explains that Balaam knew the Midianites couldn't physically conquer Israel by sheer numbers:

…Are you more numerous than the Egyptians who had six hundred of the best chariots? Let me give you some advice. Their God abhors lascivious behaviour.

Rashi on Numbers 31:16

All of which leads Pirke Avot to make the following statement:

The disciples of Balaam the Wicked possess an evil eye, a haughty spirit and an overambitious soul. …the disciples of Balaam the Wicked inherit Gehinnom.

Avot 5:19, Soncino translation

It doesn't stop there.

The postbiblical texts exaggerate Balaam's vices to such a degree that he becomes an exemplar of villainy. …Later tradition acknowledges almost nothing of Balaam the obedient servant of the Lord, who could not be bribed by all the wealth of Moab. He is, instead, the archetypal enemy of Israel, a Pharaoh, or a Haman, whose power would threaten to annihilate Israel were it not for the intervention of Israel's God.

Jacob Milgrom, The JPS Torah Commentary, Numbers, p. 471

Tradition teaches that Balaam did some good but was mainly evil. Modern scholarship points to two different narratives about Balaam woven into the Torah. What are we to make of all of this?

Let us approach Balaam as a person with the potential to do good and evil just like the rest of us. He literally climbed the heights from where he blessed Israel. Then he somehow ended up mixed up with the Midianites. If our biblical exemplars are flawed, should it shock us that this individual is as well? Should we be more surprised that Balaam spoke words of blessing, or that he counseled against Israel?

Balaam's legacy is his flawed humanity, which so dramatically demonstrates the potential for yetser ha-tov (the inclination for good) and yetser ha-ra (the inclination for evil). He serves as a warning that we must constantly practice heshbon ha-nefesh, taking account of our soul. This is the Mussar practice of being aware of our character traits, our strengths and our weaknesses, and of working on finding the proper balance of traits. Balaam had great potential, as is noted in Parashat Balak. Unfortunately, somewhere along his life's journey, Balaam lost his moral compass. How can we maintain our bearings? The root of our service to God lies in "coming to see clearly and to recognize as truth the nature of one's duty in this world, directing one's vision and striving in all tasks towards this throughout one's life." (Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto, Path of the Just, chapter 1)

Mussar (Jewish ethical development and practice) teaches us that our purpose in this life is to strive for wholeness (Shleimut). At the same time, it teaches that we can never attain this goal. Still, the act of striving is viewed as an ascent and as long as we keep trying, we are climbing that spiritual mountain. When Balaam recited Mah Tovu, he had ascended physically and spiritually. Though he had great potential, he came tumbling down. We can stumble along the path or we can partner with God in shaping the itinerary.
…life is a journey, a sacred pilgrimage made stage by stage (Rabbi Alvin Fine)

Shabbat shalom,
MS

Parashat Pinchas, Numbers 25:10-30:1

This Parasha has been generously sponsored by Michael, Yoav and Danny, in memory of their beloved father Arno Schlesinger, Tammuz 15.

Women will tell you it is difficult to be heard.

Remember the power suit? I don't mean superhero outfits. I'm talking about the 1980's woman's outfit with sharp lines and wide shoulder pads and pants rather than a skirt. Men had their own power suits but more important was the power tie, usually red. Women wore a floppy scarf tie. The power suit meant women were making their way in the corporate world. This item was meant to fit in and be noticed. Even today, women in power will rarely wear a dress, though the modern professional woman's suit is softer and more feminine than its ancestor.

Enough fashion history. Appearances do make a statement, but the bottom line is that men and women are still treated differently in the professional world. Even now women will tell you it is difficult to be heard at meetings. There is the common experience of a woman saying something to no response, only to have it repeated a few minutes later by a male colleague who gets a tremendous reaction to his idea. Women are also interrupted more frequently, as is noted in this example from a reporter at conference on brain science:

At M.I.T., we were mostly spoken to by men, various kinds of men, of different ages and with different speaking styles, and we interacted with them with typical reportorial formality. Some were more popular with us than others; some were more engaged with us than others. Some spoke right over our heads; some reached even me with perfect clarity.
Something very different happened, however, on the two occasions when we were spoken to by women. The atmosphere in the room changed. We all became more familiar. We asked more questions. We interrupted more. We made sounds of assent or dissent; we questioned methods, concepts, base assumptions. It was as though, with the women, the boundaries dissolved. We were all immediately drawn into relationships.
How much of this had to do with the fact that the women tended to speak more relationally (“I think,” “I feel”), I don’t know. I don’t know if it was created by the fact that the women — to varying degrees — turned the story of their work into personal narratives.

Judith Warner, Of Mice and Women , Domestic Disturbances blog,
New York Times, June 26, 2008

Framing the issue as a personal narrative occurs in Parashat Pinchas. The daughters of Zelophehad have a problem and bring it to the attention of the powers-that-be: The daughters of Zelophehad, of Manassite family—son of Hepher son of Gilead son of Machir son of Manasseh son of Joseph—came forward. The names of the daughters were Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah. They stood before Moses, Eleazar the priest, the chieftains, and the whole assembly, at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, and they said, "Our father died in the wilderness. He was not one of the faction, Korah's faction, which banded together against the Lord, but died for his own sin; and he has left no sons. Let not our father's name be lost to his clan just because he had no son! Give us a holding among our father's kinsmen!" (Numbers 27:1-4)

Moses turns to God for help in adjudicating this problem. In a powerful declaration, God states that the plea of Zelophehad's daughters is just (Numbers 27:7). Rashi comments on this by saying that the daughters of Zelophehad "saw what Moses' eyes could not see."

Not only was their perspective different, so was their approach to the problem. They spoke of it calmly, taking it through the proper channels. The result was revolutionary:

…we can understand this story as a valuable lesson for all of us, teaching us that Jewish law has the flexibility to expand and embrace women, giving us increasingly more rights and a fairer share of our common legacy.

Ellen Frankel, The Five Books of Miriam, p. 236

This powerful story has set an example for women over the years. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, the 19th century women's rights activist, drew on this text in her struggle, taking both sexes to task for not having the foresight or courage of our biblical ancestors:

The respect paid to the daughters of Zelophehad at that early day is worth the imitation of the rulers in our own times. …
… It would have been commendable if the members of the late Constitutional Convention in New York had, like Moses, asked the guidance of the Lord in deciding the rights of the daughters of the Van Rensselaers, the Stuyvesants, the Livingstons, and the Knickerbockers. Their final action revealed the painful fact that they never thought to take the case to the highest court in the moral universe. The daughters of Zelophehad were fortunate in being all of one mind; none there to plead the fatigue, the publicity, the responsibility of paying taxes and investing property, of keeping a bank account, and having some knowledge of mathematics. The daughters of Zelophehad were happy to accept all the necessary burdens, imposed by the laws of inheritance, while the daughters of the Knickerbockers trembled at the thought of assuming the duties involved in self-government

Elizabeth Cady Stanton, The Woman's Bible, chapter 5

Times change. Recently an article appeared in the Boston Globe examining the increased role of women in liberal synagogue life and the perceived disappearance of men from this same sphere.

Some Jewish leaders argue that the preponderance of women in segments of Jewish community life reflects pent-up demand for involvement by a gender excluded from leadership for much of religious history. Some suggest that in the Western world, spirituality, especially in more liberal denominations, has become associated with femininity. Others believe that men are reluctant to join organizations unless they can play leadership roles, and with the entry of large numbers of women into synagogue life, there are fewer such opportunities for men.

Michael Paulson, Where Have All the Men Gone?, Boston Globe, June 22, 2008

One rabbi interviewed in the article suggested that men devalue things done by women. I hope he is wrong. As Stanton exhorted the people of her day to take responsibility, we too need to encourage all members of our community to embrace the responsibilities that are ours, be it by birth or through struggle.

Parashat Pinchas teaches that there are different ways of doing things, different ways of seeing things, each of which serves to strengthen the community. It is this versatility that is our lesson.

New leadership comes to the fore in the parashah. Pinchas receives the "pact of priesthood" for taking decisive, if to our sensibilities, controversial action that saves lives. Joshua is named to replace Moses when the latter asks God to appoint someone over the community who shall go out before them and come in before them, and who shall take them out and bring them in, so that the Lord's community may not be like sheep that have no shepherd (Numbers 27:16-17). Pinchas and Joshua will continue on the path of the transactional "follow me" mode of leadership.

Where do Zelophehad's daughters fit in? They bring about a change in the community itself. They are the heirs to Miriam's transformational style of leadership; her words and example empowered the community to act for its own welfare as was noted a couple of weeks ago in the parashah commentary. We need the five daughters of Zelophehad no less than Pinchas and Joshua to have a strong and diverse community.

Shabbat shalom,
MS

Parashat Balak, Numbers 22:2-25:9

This Parasha has been generously sponsored by Steven Raiken, in honour of his beloved mother Ruthann Goldstein Raiken - Tammuz 14 (July 10, 2006).

Looking down from the heights is associated with many powerful events and emotions.

Asked why he wanted to climb Mount Everest, George Mallory replied with the famous words "because it's there." The adventurer attempted this feat three times as a member of various British expeditions. Mallory went missing on his third attempt in 1924. Some 75 years later, an expedition found his body on Mount Everest.

Our attraction to heights dates back to ancient times. Mountains were thought to be the abode of deities. Offerings were made at "high places." The Hebrew word bamah refers to such places. (In Modern Hebrew, bamah refers to a stage. A closely related word, bimah, is the area in the synagogue where a service is conducted.

Commentators such as Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch and Nechama Leibowitz have pointed out that Parashat Balak takes special note of high places. Balak, king of Moab, summons the prophet Balaam to place a curse on a people he perceives as a threat: the Children of Israel. Though initially refusing to do so, Balaam gets God's permission, but is told that he will only be able to speak words of blessing. Three times, Balak takes Balaam to high vantage points to gaze on Israel:

In the morning Balak took Balaam up to Bamoth-baal (The high place of the deity Baal). From there he could see a portion of the people.

Numbers 22:41

With that, he (Balak) took him (Balaam) to Sedehzophim, on the summit of Pisgah. He built seven altars and offered a bull and a ram on each altar.

Numbers 23:14

Balak took Balaam to the peak of Peor, which overlooks the wasteland. Balaam said to Balak, "Build me here seven altars, and have seven bulls and seven rams ready for me here." Balak did as Balaam said: he offered up a bull and a ram on each altar.

Numbers 23:28 -30

But under God's command, Balaam's vantage point made it impossible for him to fulfill the king's wish:

How can I damn whom God has not damned,
How doom when the Lord has not doomed?
As I see them from the mountain tops,
Gaze on them from the heights,
There is a people that dwells apart,
Not reckoned among the nations.

Numbers 23:8-9

Looking down from the heights can be associated with many powerful events and emotions. There is nothing more breathtaking than a view from a mountaintop on a clear day. Yet at the same time, the view from a height can also be disconcerting and even paralyzing, as Jimmy Stewart discovered in Alfred Hitchcock's Vertigo.

Heights are places where God communicates with us. Mount Sinai comes to mind, but so does Mount Moriah, upon which God commands Abraham to offer his son on one of the heights that I will point out to you. (Genesis 22:2) Before his death, Moses ascended the heights to view the Promised Land. Moses went up from the steppes of Moab to Mount Nebo, to the summit of Pisgah, opposite Jericho, and the Lord showed him the whole land: Gilead as far as Dan; all Naphtali; the land of Ephraim and Manasseh; the whole land of Judah as far as the Western Sea; the Negeb; and the Plain — the Valley of Jericho, the city of palm trees — as far as Zoar. (Deuteronomy 34:1)

Recently in Canada, manmade heights have taken on a new meaning. Words are insufficient to describe the intensity of this phenomenon, so I will just state "the facts."

A few weeks ago, while driving on Highway 401, I noticed an ambulance on an overpass. I thought there must have been an accident, until I reached the next overpass which had a fire truck parked on it, as did the next overpass. The closer I got to Kingston, Ontario, the more crowded the overpasses became. Not only with official vehicles; there were crowds of people just standing and waiting. Soon, in the opposite direction a motorcade went by. At the center of the procession was a hearse carrying the body of Captain Richard Leary, Second Battalion, Princess Patricia’s Light Infantry. Captain Leary had been killed while on patrol in Afghanistan.

The people gathered on the overpasses of Highway 401, aka the "Highway of Heroes," were taking part in a new custom, honouring fallen soldiers whose remains are brought to Canadian Forces Base Trenton and then transported from there to their final resting places. The rituals for this custom are very simple according to the blog Military Mom at Home:

Gather along the 401 between Trenton and Toronto (our Highway of Heroes) to honour our fallen soldier. He is coming home.

There is something deeply moving about these modern bamot (high places) – the highway overpasses, where people gathered to pay their respects. A utilitarian road built for speed and efficiency becomes a holy site.

In that instant, the traffic, the time, and reaching your destination as quickly as possible, lose all meaning. All that matters is that one precious soul be brought to his final resting place with as much care and concern as each individual can muster.

Regrettably, two days after this remarkable example of k'vod ha-met (honouring the deceased), it was reported that another Canadian soldier, Captain Jonathan Sutherland Snyder of the 1st Battalion, Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry, lost his life in an accident.

And so, as too many of these convoys sadly wind their way along Highway 401, people from neighboring towns gather on the overpasses and gaze on them from the heights, sadly acknowledging that one more selfless individual has joined a people that dwells apart.

Shabbat shalom,
MS

Parashat Chukat, Numbers 19:1-22:1

This Parasha has been generously sponsored by Linda Halton in loving memory of her parents, William and Freda Brayer.

We are each given the opportunity to take an active role in Jewish life and especially in Jewish spiritual life.

The 1964 musical Fiddler on the Roof introduced a Jewish concept to a world-wide audience: "Tradition!" More accurately, the play introduced a Jewish perspective on the origins of customs and rituals:

You may ask, "How did this tradition get started?" I'll tell you! I don't know. But it's a tradition...

Fiddler on the Roof, Act 1, book by Joseph Stein

Actually, the "I don't know" part has a technical term: mi-Sinai (from Mount Sinai). This refers to something so ingrained in Judaism, we believe it was always so. Halachah le-Moshe mi-Sinai is used to indicate laws that are traditionally considered basic to Judaism. Mi-Sinaitunes refers to melodies that are so deeply ingrained in Judaism, it is as though they too were part of the Revelation at Sinai. The great Aleinu sung on the High Holy Days is an example of this.

It is always interesting to find out that traditions we think of as being as old as civilization are not so. Take the diamond engagement ring. There is a complex etiquette concerning the meaning of the ring and its value. Books on marriage (and salespeople at jewelry stores) will tell you that a gentleman has to set aside a certain percentage of his yearly salary to purchase this item in order to prove his devotion to his basherte (intended). According to proponents of this custom, less than 3 months salary and his intentions may be called into question. Yet the whole notion that "a diamond is forever" is really a clever ad campaign created for one of the world's leading diamond interests in the 1930's. Arguably, this is one of the most successful ad campaigns in history.

There are a number of things within Judaism that are more recent than we think. The Bar-Mitzvah is a prime example of this, dating back to medieval times . So, when in the 1922 Rabbi Mordecai Kaplan held a Bat-Mitzvah ceremony for his daughter Judith, it was considered by many to be an innovation, although according to Professor Howard Tzvi Adelman, there were earlier examples of a ceremony for females in the Ukrainian city of Lvov (1902) , and even in 19^th century Baghdad:

And also the daughter on the day that she enters the obligation of the commandments, even though they don't usually make for her a seudah (festive meal), nevertheless that day will be one of happiness. She should wear Sabbath clothing and if she is able to do so she should wear new clothing and bless the Shehecheyanu prayer and be ready for her entry to the yoke of the commandments.

Ben Ish Chai, translation: Howard Tzvi Adelman)

Although the ceremonies in Baghdad, Lvov, and New York, were not quite the same as today's Bat-Mitzvah, they were innovative. Then again, as the Bar-Mitzvah ceremony itself proves, innovation is a Jewish tradition.

The latest iteration of this lifecycle ceremony is the adult Bat-Mitzvah. Somewhat less common, though probably older, is the adult Bar-Mitzvah, which was immortalized in the 1960's sitcom The Dick van Dyke Show, episode #149, Buddy Sorrell-Man and Boy.

I recently had the pleasure of attending an adult Bat-Mitzvah ceremony at Congregation Darchei Noam in Toronto. A group of nineteen women immersed themselves in Jewish study for two years. Many could not read Hebrew a couple of years ago. Yet they all confidently led an incredibly moving service. It was my privilege to have been one of their teachers.

Some of these women were raised at time when girls and women did not receive a Jewish education; they dedicated their efforts to their mothers and grandmothers. Some honoured fathers who, a la Buddy Sorrell, did not have an opportunity to celebrate a Bar-Mitzvah in their youth. Each woman went through the course of study for herself, in order to be able to participate more fully in the life of the community.

We are each given the opportunity to take an active role in Jewish life and especially in Jewish spiritual life. There is a difference between being led and being empowered. A most dramatic example of this is found in Parashat Chukat. At the very beginning of the parashah we find out that Miriam has died and the people are without water. (Numbers 20:1-2) Panic ensues and God instructs Moses to gather the people, talk to a rock, and water will miraculously come forth. Moses, frustrated with the people, hits the rock instead, an action that will come back to haunt him. The place where this occurred is remembered as being the "Waters of Contention (Mei Merivah)."

Though everything went wrong there, the people learned a lesson. This becomes evident later on in the portion when once again the people complain of a lack of water and are gathered together:

And from there to Beer, which is the well where the Lord said to Moses, "Assemble the people that I may give them water." Then Israel sang this song:
Spring up, O well—sing to it—
The well which the chieftains dug,
Which the nobles of the people started
With maces, with their own staffs.

Numbers 21:16-18

From passive observers waiting for Moses to do things for them, the people now eagerly participate in this event.

Water is a symbol of spirituality. Remember Hagar who lost all hope once her water ran out in the wilderness (Genesis 21:14-18)? Remember the fervent joy and belief at the Sea of Reeds, when Miriam led the women in song (Exodus 15:19-20)? Miriam had so much to do with water. (Her very name, "bitter sea," cries out for midrashic interpretation, which will have to wait for another occasion.) The Talmud and Rashi take note of the connection between the death of Miriam and the lack of water. According to Taanit 9a, it was due to Miriam's merit that the children of Israel had water through all the years of wandering. This source of water is the legendary Miriam's Well.

The craving for water is more than a physical desire and attests to Miriam's spiritual leadership. No wonder that as soon as she dies, we are told that the people were without water. They had lost a particular spiritual access. Moses was unable to give it to them. He struck the rock, a physical act, instead of speaking to the rock and coaxing the water out in a nurturing manner. But the lesson was not lost on Israel. They had reached a point where they would either remain who they were, or take responsibility for their own spirituality. And so they sang to the well.

It certainly wasn't easy for our ancestors in the wilderness. It couldn't have been easy for the nineteen adult B'not Mitzvah on that recent Shabbat in Toronto, but the opportunities are there if we are open to them. It goes beyond thirsting for those spiritual waters. That is only the first step. The thirst must be quenched. Chukat teaches that we don't have to wait for the glass of water to be offered to us. We can each take it upon ourselves to joyfully draw waters from the wells of salvation (Isaiah 12:3).

Shabbat shalom,
MS