Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Naso

Copyright 2010 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Naso.

Naso finishes the story of the census in the wilderness, and continues with various laws covering suspicions of adultery; special vows of Divine service; and priestly duties. The portion concludes with the princes of the tribes bringing gifts to the Sanctuary.

Dear Friends:

Ah well, I didn’t keep up the “get-the-drasha-out-early-in-the-week” trend going for very long, but we did have a holiday this week. . . well, on to Naso.

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Naso

The good news is, we’re back, and this week’s haftarah is one the most
interesting of the year. The haftarah is from the book of Shoftim, or Judges,
chapter 13, and tells the story of the birth of Shimon, or Samson, the first
Biblical “superhero,” who has a miraculous birth and a life of amazing deeds of
strength, bravery, and some really puzzling decisions (which we’ll discuss
another day.) Our haftarah tells us that Shimshon’s birth was announced to his
parents by an angel, who gave them clear instructions that he was to be raised
as a “nazir,” that is, one who took a special oath of sacred dedication and
refrained from cutting his hair or drinking any sort of intoxicating beverage.
The status of nazir is a bit more complicated than I’m discussing here, but it’s
the clear link between our Torah portion, Naso, and our haftarah; the rules for
the nazirite are given in Bamidbar/Numbers 6, read this week.

The story of Shimshon and his parents is both funny and poignant, and told with
great attention to detail. One such detail comes right at the beginning of the
story:

“There was a certain man from Zorah, of the stock of Dan, whose name was Manoah
. . ” [Shoftim/ Judges 13:2]

The Bible often tells us about a character’s origins, both geographical and
genealogically; in this case, we learn that Manoach, Shimson’s father, is from a
small place of no particular distinction. In fact, what’s interesting about
Zorah is that the Bible itself tells us that it was first given to the tribe of
Judah (near the modern Israeli city of Beit Shemesh), but then the tribe of Dan
settled there- i.e, Judah apparently didn’t fight over it! Eventually Dan lost
some of its territories, including Zorah, in war and moved north, to the edges
of the kingdom. (I’ll post a map and some references below.) In other words,
Shimson, the great hero, is born in a marginal town to an undistinguished family
of one of the smallest and weakest tribes of Israel.

As R. Hirsch puts it, this fact “could not be without significance.” As I see
it, just as the Torah portion, in teaching us the laws of the nazir, reminds us
that extraordinary spiritual dedication is not reserved for the hereditary
classes of priests and Levites, the haftarah reminds us that extraordinary
individuals can come from the most humble of circumstances. This, in turn, has
two powerful implications:

1) Great things can come from ordinary people who live in undistinguished
places. Therefore, treat everybody as if they were capable of extraordinary
deeds !

2) Great things can come from ordinary people who live in undistinguished
places. Therefore, there’s no excuse for not doing extraordinary deeds !

Not everybody will win great battles over the Philistines (even in the
contemporary sense) but the story of Shimshon reminds us that history is not the
exclusive domain of the elite. Encounters with the Divine can transform us
anywhere, any time, setting us on a new course, no matter where we were born or
how well-connected our parents were. You just never know where an angel might
show up to tell you something important!

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Naso

This weekend we read the portion Naso, which concludes with Moshe setting up the Mishkan [portable
Sanctuary] and all the leaders of the tribes bringing offerings as
gifts for its dedication. Each leader brought a similar offering of
silver, gold, flour, and animals:

“On the second day, Nethanel son of Zuar, chieftain of Issachar, made
his offering. He presented as his offering: one silver bowl weighing
130 shekels and one silver basin of 70 shekels by the sanctuary
weight, both filled with choice flour with oil mixed in, for a meal
offering; one gold ladle of 10 shekels, filled with incense; one bull
of the herd, one ram, and one lamb in its first year, for a burnt
offering; one goat for a sin offering; and for his sacrifice of
well-being: two oxen, five rams, five he-goats, and five yearling
lambs. That was the offering of Nethanel son of Zuar.” (Bamidbar/
Numbers 7:18-23)

One thing that is striking about this passage (which is repeated to
describe the offering of each tribal leader) is its detail of weights,
measures, and numbers: the bowl weights 130 shekels, the basin weighs
70, the ladle weighs 10 shekels, one bull, one ram, one lamb, for the
burnt offering, and so on. Our friend Rashi sees the gifts as
symbolic, sometimes finding the numbers to allude to other verses in
the Torah and sometimes using a technique called gematria- adding up
the numerical value of the letters- to link each gift to another idea
or verse.

Without getting into the specifics- which you can check out in the
links below, which give you Rashi’s entire commentary in English- it’s
interesting to me that Rashi sees the first gift – the silver bowl- as
alluding to Adam, and the second gift, the basin, as alluding to
Noach, who is really the “father” of all humankind after the flood.
Rashi makes this point clear by connecting the 70 shekel weight of the
basin to the “70 nations” of the world who emerged from the line of
Noach- in other words, all of humankind.

Rashi connects the gold ladle to the Torah, and its weight of ten gold
shekels is for him an allusion to the Ten Commandments. The animal
offerings, for Rashi, are allusions to the Israelite patriarchs and
leaders: Avraham, Yitzhak, Yaakov, Yosef, Moshe, Aharon. Each gift,
and even part of a description of a gift, is connected to another
verse in the Torah by connections of words and numbers, but it’s not
the methodology that I find most compelling.

What I find striking about Rashi’s symbolic interpretation of the
chieftain’s gifts is how he sees these gifts as alluding to both our
universal humanity and the particulars of Jewish history and
peoplehood. To put it another way, if the gold ladle alludes to the 70
nations of the earth – i.e., the diversity of humankind- then
precisely in the most specifically “Jewish” place- the Mishkan- we are
reminded of our link with all other peoples. It’s not surprising to me
that he would find hints of Avraham, Yitzhak, and Yaakov in these
gifts- after all, in their lives begins the covenant which is
expressed most dramatically by the Mishkan itself.

On the other hand, when Rashi says that the gold and silver bowls and
basins are reminders of Adam and Noach, he’s reminding us that
spiritual practices are always done in the context of a particular
tradition, but they lead us to transcend the particulars of tribe,
community, denomination, or nationality. In this way, religion is a
like a language; for example, love is experienced among all peoples,
but love poems can only be written in a particular language, whether
English or Persian or Chinese. This, to me, is the significance of
Rashi’s interpretation of the gifts of the Mishkan: it’s precisely by
doing our particular practices well that we come to deeply understand
that all people are made in the Divine Image, which has been given to
all people, in all seventy nations, across the world.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Naso

Well, this is supposed to be the week of parshat Naso, but it feels
more like Noah and the flood! I’ve heard that it’s been one of the
rainiest springtimes ever in New England- well, maybe the time you’re
not outside playing golf or getting a tan you can be inside studying
Torah.

Back to our parsha, Naso, which is mostly about the duties of the
Mishkan, and all the gifts to the Mishkan brought by that the princes
of the tribes. There is also the famous “priestly blessing,” the test
of the bitter waters, rules for people who take special holy vows, and
a few criminal laws, including a rule about restitution:

“The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the Israelites: When a man
or woman commits any wrong toward a fellow man, thus breaking faith
with the Lord, and that person realizes his guilt, he shall confess
the wrong that he has done. He shall make restitution in the principal
amount and add one-fifth to it, giving it to him whom he has wronged.
. .” (Bamidbar/ Numbers 5:5-7)

Although this passage is fairly straightforward, it’s worth noting
that the rabbis compare this to another verse, in Vayikra chapter 5,
which leads them to conclude that what’s really going on here is a
case where somebody did something wrong to somebody else, then lied
about it, and then decides to confess later. Such a person has to make
restitution, plus one-fifth of the value of the restitution, and bring
an offering to God in the Mishkan.

First, let’s note that according to this interpretation of the rabbis
(cf. Rashi on this paragraph), this law is really a marvelous example
of Judaism’s openness to t’shuvah, or “returning,” but usually
translated as “repentance.” The lying thief gets a second chance, even
after committing perjury! Perhaps the Torah realizes that it’s simply
human nature to deny our wrongdoing when caught- perjury is a serious
crime, but it can’t be punished so severely that people have no
motivation to confess later.

Thus, by giving the perpetrator of wrong a second chance to confess,
the Torah seems to be implying that even a lying thief (or whatever he
did) might reflect on his deeds and eventually may wish to make things
right. In fact, one could say that the real thrust of this commandment
is not so much to the repentant miscreant, but to the one harmed, who
is being told to accept the confession and restitution (plus
one-fifth) as sufficient. (I’ve often thought that it’s emotionally
and spiritually more difficult to accept another’s t’shuvah than do
one’s own, but that’s another discussion.)

Taking things a bit further, let’s remember that sometimes the Torah
teaches us an extreme case in order to illustrate more ordinary
ethics. I think this is such a time: if a thief or other criminal gets
a second chance to confess without a substantially greater penalty,
how much more so should we all extend to each other that “second
chance” to do t’shuvah without the fear that confession will bring
greater anger and blame.

In other words- sometimes it’s hard to confess one’s misdeeds,
especially to those we love, but people of conscience (i.e., most
people) will often want eventually to repair relationships and effect
reconciliation. Maybe the “one-fifth” which is added could be
understood as the greater effort needed to do t’shuvah once one has
denied or lied about the initial problem, but even so, one-fifth
greater effort is not prohibitive.

It is axiomatic in Judaism that the Torah is a “Torat Hesed,” a Torah
of loving-kindness; in this case, the hesed comes when people soften
towards each other, make reconciliation where they must, and
forgiveness when they ought. Barriers to reconciliation are just as
much a problem for the wronged party as for the one who must
apologize; removing those barriers creates the community of
loving-kindness which the Torah envisions as our goal and destiny.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

PS- as usual, you can find a summary and further commentary in the
first link, and the text of the Torah portion and haftarah in the
second.

http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Weekly_Torah_Commentary/naso_index.htm

http://www.jtsa.edu/community/parashah/jpstext/naso.shtml

ALSO, here’s something fun: the United Jewish Communities puts together
a booklet of inspirational thoughts from rabbis across the Jewish
world. This past spring, several of my weekly drashot were adapted for
use in this compendium, which you can download in PDF format at the
top of the page:

http://www.ujc.org/content_display.html?ArticleID=180644

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Naso

It’s summer in Swampscott, so we must be reading from the book of Bamidbar. In
English,
the book of Bamidbar is called “Numbers,” because it begins with a census, and
that
census continues in this week’s portion, where specific families of Levites are
given tasks
pertaining to the Mishkan [portable Sanctuary.] Significant laws in Naso include
confession
and restitution after harming someone; the ritual of the suspected wife
["Sotah"], and the
laws of the Nazirite (a person who had taken a special vow). The portion
concludes with a
long description of the identical gifts brought to the Mishkan by 12 leaders of
the people,
one for each tribe.

The laws of the Nazirite (cf. Numbers 6:1-21) are fascinating- this was an
institution of
ancient Israel wherein a person would voluntarily vow, for a limited period, to
refrain from
cutting his hair, forswear drinking any kind of alcohol or fermented product,
and stay away
from any kind of corpse (and thus avoid this particular kind of ritual impurity
for the
duration of his vows.) Why these three things in particular are the subject of
vows might
be another discussion, but for now, let’s focus on the fact that the Nazirite
chooses, for his
own spiritual reasons, to enter into a temporary state of greater emphasis on
the spiritual
and less emphasis on the material.

Think about it: wine is the paradigm of pleasurable consumption; haircuts and
shaving are
the basic activity of grooming and looking nice, and staying away from dead
bodies, for
our Biblical ancestors, means that one could freely enter into the sacred areas,
which
would be prevented by ritual impurity. Thus, a Nazirite chooses to enter into a
limited
period wherein the focus is on spiritual things, instead of the bodily pleasures
and focus
on external appearances that are so typical of daily life.

The Nazirite vows were not permanent; nobody is expected to be on an exalted
spiritual
plane permanently. Still, wouldn’t it be great to take some time out of our busy
lives
during which we focus less on trivialities like hairstyles and fashion
statements, in order
to focus more on the really important things, like our relationship with God
and
community?

Eating and drinking is pleasurable, but what we’re eating matters a lot less
than our
gratitude for the sustenance. Looking nice is fine, but one’s haircut is a lot
less important
than one’s character and commitments. Pleasures of the body are good things in
Jewish
thought, as long as they don’t become distractions from our spiritual goals. The
laws of
the Nazirite remind us that we don’t have to be slaves to fashion, because we
are servants
of a higher purpose.

You can read the full text of Naso here:

http://www.jtsa.edu/community/parashah/index.shtml

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Naso

This d’var Torah was originally distributed by Kolel: The Adult Center for Jewish Learning during the year 5761 and can be found in its archives.

Naso (Numbers 4:21-7:89)

OVERVIEW

Parashat Naso contains rules for the priests, for the clans of the tribe of Levi, for testing an unfaithful spouse, and for the Nazir, who is a person who has taken special vows of dedication to God. Then the heads of the tribes bring gifts for the dedication of the Mishkan (compare this section to Parashat Vayakhel) and at the very end Moshe hears the Voice of God in the Ohel Moed, or “Tent of Meeting” at the heart of the Mishkan.

IN FOCUS

“God spoke to Moshe, saying: Speak to Aharon and his sons, saying: ‘This is how you will bless the Israelites, saying to them:

May Adonai bless you and keep you; may Adonai cause the Face of the Divine to shine upon you; may Adonai lift the Face of the Divine to you, and giveyou peace.

Let them place My name upon the Israelites , and I will bless them.’ ” (Numbers 6:22-27)

PSHAT

This is a very “religious” parsha; the little narrative there is concerns gifts to the Mishkan, and all the other regulations in the parsha deal with ritual and religious matters. As part of the overall preparations to dedicate the Altar in the Mishkan, the priests are given a formula by which they will bless the people. This blessing is still very much part of Jewish liturgy today; it is recited in many traditional synagogue services, and often at weddings and bnai mitzvah celebrations as well.

DRASH

The ancient rabbis were very much aware that any kind of  intermediaries between God and the people might be thought of as somehow divine beings in their own right. After all, the Torah itself tells us that the people wanted Moshe to come between them and the Divine Presence (Exodus 20:15); apparently, not much later, they considered Moshe to be a kind of demigod who leads them. (Cf. Exodus 32, the story of the Golden Calf.) Thus, the rabbis stress that it is God who brings blessing, not the priests themselves:

Do not say, “this kohen, who is incestuous and a murderer, is to bless us!?” For the Holy One, blessed be God, says: “Who blesses you? Am not I the one who blesses you, as it is written: “Let them place My name upon the Israelites , and I will bless them? ‘ “   (Jerusalem Talmud, Gittin, 47b)

What I find fascinating about this midrash is the suggestion that an incestuous or murderous priest could, in fact, offer these words of blessing! To be fair, I don’t know if that was the intent of the authors of this midrash, but I do think that it reminds us not to ascribe magical powers to ritual leaders. Ideally, they are only the vessel or the means by which something greater is accomplished. In fact, at many synagogues rabbis and cantors are called klei kodesh, or “holy vessels”, a term which stresses that Jewish religious leaders are merely a means to achieve larger goals.

Yet we might also ask: if God wished to bless the people with a direct, Divine blessing, why were priests given this special role at all? Certainly there would be no risk of theological confusion among the Israelites if the Holy One simply announced the blessing without anybody’s help!

Rashi says something which may be helpful here:

saying to them . . . .this is a full [spelling, indicating:] do not bless them in haste, nor in hurried excitement, but with full consciousness [kavannah], and with a whole heart.

Rashi believes that the priests were commanded to have the proper reverence as well as the proper wording. Perhaps then we can say that the priests were chosen not only as vessels of blessing, but also as role models of caring for the people. Maybe God didn’t need the priests to deliver a blessing, maybe God needed the kohanim to show the other Israelites what it meant to be reverent and loving, to wish the best for someone else, to pray for another with a “whole heart.” In other words, God did not want these ritual leaders to have Divine powers, but rather, a full humanity- and maybe that’s why these words still move us today.

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Naso

This d’var Torah was originally distributed by Kolel: The Adult Center for Jewish Learning during the year 5760 and can be found in its archives.

Naso (Numbers 4:21-7:89)

OVERVIEW

If you belong to a community that celebrates two days of Yom Tov (the Biblical holy days of Rosh Hashana, Pesach, Shavuot, and Sukkot), then you’re reading a selection from the Book of Deuteronomy on Shabbat, which coincides with the second day of Shavuot. Conversely, if you belong to a community which celebrates only one day of those holidays (such as almost everybody in Israel, or Reform or Reconstructionist synagogues), then you are reading the next regular Torah portion, Naso, this Shabbat. Therefore, as a pluralistic and inclusive website, we will offer both communities a drash this week. We will revisit Naso again next week as well, and proceed from there.

Parshat Naso contains rules for the priests, for the clans of the tribe of Levi, for testing an unfaithful spouse, and for the Nazir, who is a person who has taken special vows of dedication to God. Then the heads of the tribes bring gifts for the dedication of the Mishkan (compare this section to Parshat Vayekhel) and at the very end Moshe hears the Voice of God in the Ohel Moed, or “Tent of Meeting” at the heart of the Mishkan.

IN FOCUS

“When Moses entered the Tent of Meeting to speak with God, he heard the Voice speaking to him from between the two cherubim above the atonement cover on the ark of the Testimony. And he spoke with The Holy One.”

PSHAT

Only Moshe enters the innermost sanctuary of the Mishkan, where there are two “cherubim,” or figures of divine beings, set above the covering of the Ark containing the tablets of the Torah which Moshe brought down from Sinai. There Moshe hears the Voice of God instructing him on how to lead the Israelites.

DRASH

Rashi notes that the verse specifically says that the Voice of God spoke “to him,” meaning Moshe, and interprets this to mean that even Aharon did not hear God in the tent. Rashi further proposes that because the text says “the Voice,” Moshe heard it as the same Voice he heard on Sinai, emanating, as it were, from the space between the two angel-figures. (No, not little naked babies with wings, but some kind of representation of a unique Divine beings.) Finally, Rashi quotes a midrash which says that the Voice did not go forth past the walls of the tent itself, so truly only Moshe could know what was going on in there.

Now, the latter midrash is rather amazing; ordinarily, any noise within the mere fabric of tent walls is pretty easy to hear outside the tent itself. So Rashi is going to great lengths to stress that only Moshe and no one else communicated with God within the Tent. To put it another way, only Moshe could perceive that the Voice of Sinai is the same Voice that guided the Israelites on their daily travels. This the Voice which emerges “from between the cherubim;” as Rashi would have it, from the space between them.

We learned in Exodus 25 that the two cherubim- whatever they looked like- faced each other. This image was once explained to me (I believe, but am not sure, in the name of Aviva Zornberg) as a metaphor for the holiness of human intimacy; these two beings face each other, and God, as it were, is found between them. For many people, intimate human relationships are where they find their greatest spirituality; the famous philosopher Martin Buber suggested that truly connective and equal interactions between people are a place where the Divine is revealed.

Thus, perhaps we can read in this verse (with Rashi’s help) a description of great religious integration- the kind that only a Moshe possessed in his day. Someone with the insight of a Moshe hears (perceives ? experiences? ) the commanding Voice of Sinai, the God of our Ancestors, the God of our Torah, as the same God who is the Source of human love. The awe one feels before the transcendent Deity is but the “flip side” of the warmth one feels in true human connections -these are two aspects of the same “spiritual experience.” Moshe understood the radical implications of monotheism- all of our deepest and most profound insights come from one Source, whether that Source is deep within us, found “between” us, or calling to us from the pages of Torah.

NJL