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