Rabbi Neal's Weekly Commentary

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Bechukotai

Good afternoon!

The Torah portion Bechukotai is difficult, with its overt promises of earthly reward for the righteous and corresponding terrible consequences for the wicked and disloyal. Most adult observers of the human condition realize that life is not so simple: the good often suffer, and nasty people sometimes live long and prosperous lives. (Whether those lives are fully lived is a separate question.)

Fortunately, we do not read Bechokotai alone: we read it with an accompanying haftarah [selection from the prophetic texts], which at first glance seems to reinforce the image of God as stern judge, convicting the guilty:

“I the Lord probe the heart,
Search the mind —
To repay every man according to his ways,
With the proper fruit of his deeds. . . . . .” (Jeremiah 17:10)

Yet in the same passage, the prophet offers a strikingly different image of Divinity:

“O Hope of Israel! O Lord!
All who forsake You shall be put to shame,
Those in the land who turn from You
Shall be doomed men,
For they have forsaken the Lord,
The Fount of living waters.” (17:13)

The Hebrew is poetic in the original, so where the JPS translation, above, suggests that those who turn from God are “doomed men,” but more literally, the verse says something like “those who turn from you will be written in the land.” Perhaps this refers to burial, or perhaps simply contrasts a static, fixed inscription in the earth with the “fount of living waters,” which suggests a dynamic, sustaining, growing, flowing sense of the Holy. In other words, the Biblical texts do not only suggest that God is the judge- an anthropomorphic image- but also a well of water, the source of life itself, something to be drawn upon, something which rises up from within.

The contemporary Jewish theologian Art Green famously contrasted “vertical metaphors” for God- that is, a God Who is “up” or “out” or “above us”, coming “down to the mountain” – with the images in the Torah that suggest an indwelling Presence: wells, rivers, living water. This, in turn, suggests a spiritual experience that unfolds from the inside out, which makes the stern Judge of Bechokotai part of our own inner reality. If God is like water- welling up from deep places- then the consequences of sin, as such, are not externally imposed punishments, but a drying up of the soul, cut off from its deep sustenance.

This comes back to our haftarah, which offers another image of life-giving water:

“Blessed is he who trusts in the Lord,
Whose trust is the Lord alone.
He shall be like a tree planted by waters,
Sending forth its roots by a stream:
It does not sense the coming of heat,
Its leaves are ever fresh;
It has no care in a year of drought,
It does not cease to yield fruit.” (17:7-8)

That’s the point, I think: digging a bit deeper, into the place of transcending the ego, the narrow self, is what allows us to bring forth the fruit- that is, to bring forth our deeds of compassion, patience, and justice. Biblical images of judgment evoke a deep sense of accountability, and are entirely appropriate at times, but the prophet’s image of God as the Living Water remind us that it’s what we bring forth in our actions which is the true test of faith.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Bechukotai

We’re reading the Torah portion Bechukotai, which is not the easiest
nor most fun part of the Torah. Coming at the end of the book of
Vayikra/Leviticus, Bechukotai opens up with a promise and a warning: a
promise of blessing if they are obedient to the covenant and warned of
great curses and disaster if they are not. Typical would be verses
26:14-16:

“But if you do not obey Me and do not observe all these commandments,
if you reject My laws and spurn My rules, so that you do not observe
all My commandments and you break My covenant, I in turn will do this
to you: I will wreak misery upon you . . . . . ”

Well, that’s no fun.

Let’s be honest: most people reading this commentary probably have a
hard time accepting the the idea that suffering in this world is
directly connected to “sin,” as such. To believe that God directs
suffering upon the wicked in this world (as opposed to the world to
come) is not only contrary to the evidence available in most daily
newspapers, but deeply theologically problematic. To wit: shall we say
that those who suffer illness or disaster deserved it? That seems
rather unkind, to say the least.

On the other hand. . . . . . we can read these verses metaphorically,
as describing an inter-connected world of consequences and feedback
loops on the level of community and society. When we- big “we,”
meaning, the larger community- aren’t acting out of a shared vision of
ethical purpose, bad things happen and it’s going to bite us hard.
It’s hard to imagine a connection between sin and cyclones but not
hard to imagine that a society which grossly ignores environmental
responsibility is going to have higher cancer rates- which, in turn,
can lead to feelings of spiritual despair as described in the “rebuke”
verses of our Torah portion.

Another case in point: in case you missed it, the largest immigration
raid in U.S. history happened about a week ago, and the target was a
kosher slaughterhouse in Iowa. The news has been disturbing at best,
with allegations of underpayment and even sexual abuse of illegal
immigrants hired to produce kosher meat under the strictest religious
supervision. Because this company produces a large share of the kosher
meat in America, the virtual shutdown of one of its biggest plants
seems to be causing shortages of kosher meat in parts of the country
far from Iowa- it’s a complicated and distressing situation.

So here we have an example of covenant and consequences: hundreds of
news articles across the country are linking the kosher industry to
unethical employment practices, which creates an appearance that
observant Jews care more about how the cows die than how the workers
live. If that’s not enough to make our community “miserable,” as the
verse above says, then we’re not paying attention. We- the broader
Jewish community- haven’t demanded that kosher meat be kosher
according to all the laws of the Torah, including the ones which teach
us to treat our workers with dignity and fairness and the ones which
mandate that animals shall live and die free of unnecessary and
avoidable pain and suffering.

The Conservative movement is creating a “Hechsher Tzedek,” which is a
kosher supervision which addresses these broader ethical concerns, but
it’s a nascent project. The United Synagogue and Rabbinical Assembly
have released a statement- linked below- which urges kosher meat
consumers to evaluate whether meat from the Rubashkin’s plant (which
is under various labels such as Rubashkin’s, Aaron’s and David’s)
should be purchased at all. This story is far from over (as a quick
check of Google news will reveal- use the search term Agriprocessors)
and my hope is that it will provoke some soul searching in the Jewish
community about what it means to walk in God’s laws, to use the
language of Behukotai. What happens in Iowa affects the synagogues in
Poughkeepsie; we are connected, all people, all communities, for
blessing and for rebuke.

Shabbat Shalom,

RNJL

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Bechukotai

Greetings from oh-so-soggy Swampscott! It’s been raining here for days, but
perhaps the
light of Torah will brighten the dreariness. This week’s portion, Bechukotai,
contains a
section known as “tochecha,” or “rebuke,” in which the Israelites are promised
many
blessings if they faithfully keep the commandments and are also warned of bitter
doom
and disaster if they don’t.

It’s a difficult passage, given that contemporary theology tends to separate sin
from
misfortune. As Rabbi Kushner points out, it’s hardly compassionate to tell the
sick or
injured person that they must have deserved it because of their misdeeds. Yet
these
passages of “rebuke” also contain verses of great beauty and hope. One can feel
the
emotional plea being made to the covenant community, to turn from evil and do
good, and
the God of mercy will be awaiting your return.

What’s interesting is that underneath the seemingly gory, “tit for tat” verses
promising
disaster for the unfaithful but great reward for the righteous is a perspective
that most of
us could, in fact, agree with: that human beings are fully capable of making
noble choices.
To put it another way, the Torah wouldn’t give us stern warnings if it didn’t
think we had
the potential to choose the good, right and true.

Rashi makes this point beautifully in a commentary on verse 26:9, which promises
that
God will “set up My covenant” with those who choose the paith of faithfulness:

Rashi’s commentary:

“[This means] a new covenant, not like the first covenant, which you broke, but
a new
covenant, which will not be broken, as it is said, ‘I will form a new covenant
with the House
of Israel and with the House of Judah-not like the covenant [that I formed with
their
forefathers… that they broke]’ ” (Jeremiah 31:30-31).

Rashi uses this language of a “new covenant,” borrowed from a later prophet, to
say that
the relationship between God and humanity can be restored, even if we have
broken that
relationship and moved away from our true Source. Notice Rashi’s insistance that
<we>
broke the earlier covenant, but the new one will not be broken.

Now, you might ask: how does Rashi- or even God, who gave us free will- know
that the
new covenant (which I see as an image of restored intimacy and partnership)
won’t be
broken by us just like the earlier one was?

Well, the answer might be: not even God can know what human beings will
ultimately
choose, but Judaism retains its faith in the potential for human restoration and
reconcilation. People- all of us- “break the covenant” with God on a daily
basis, by turning
away from our spiritual potential and failing to live up to the Image of God
within, yet it’s
always possible to return to our noblest selves and our deepest truths.

Rashi holds out a vision in which people- both as individuals and as a
community- learn
from their mistakes and emerge more faithful through the journey. We broke, but
that
means we can fix; we strayed, but that means we can return; we were disloyal to
ourselves
and our God, but that means we can achieve new intimacy and a refashioned heart.
Our
greatest teacher of Torah believed that the “new covenant” will not be broken-
not by God,
and not by us. It’s an amazing statement of faith- faith in humankind, and our
capacity
for renewed relationship with a God who believes in us.

Copyright 2011 Neal Joseph Loevinger

Torah Portion: Bechukotai

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.

OVERVIEW

Bechukotai begins with a short description of the rewards and blessings that will follow from obeying the laws of the Torah. The promised rewards are followed with a somewhat longer section of curses, which will be the punishment if the people do not keep God’s ways. The parasha, and the book of Leviticus, ends with laws pertaining to the valuation of gifts to the Temple, which might include land, animals, or even the worth of one’s own person.

IN FOCUS

“If you will walk in My decrees and guard My commandments and do them, then I will provide the rains in their proper times. . . . ” (Leviticus 26:3)

PSHAT

The post-script to all the laws of the book of Leviticus is a straightforward theology of reward and punishment: if Israel follows the Torah, good and blessing will follow, but if Israel does not obey, God will send all sorts of calamities down upon the people.

DRASH

Let’s leave to one side the question of Heavenly reward and punishment; it is an important and controversial topic, but for this week let’s focus on the verse which introduces this portion, quoted above. (However, for a discussion of some of the theological issues related to this parasha, see our archived Reb on the Web discourse. )

Rashi and others note that verse 3 seems to repeat itself. Rashi points out that “walking in [God’s] decrees” might be understood to mean “performing the commandments,” but then the verse goes on to say exactly that- “guard My commandments and do them.” So Rashi, based on an earlier midrash, will tell us that “walking in God’s decrees” means “labouring in Torah study.” Thus, Rashi reads the verse like this: “if you will labor in Torah study and keep the commandments and perform them. . . ”

This idea is picked up by many of the other commentators as well; the Ohr HaChaim lists no fewer than 42 (! !) reasons why Torah study is understood to be “walking in God’s decrees.” Two of my favorites are #1 and #3. The first reason that the Ohr HaChaim gives for the Torah’s linkage of “walking” and “God’s decrees” is that we should discuss Torah even while just walking along our way, just as the verse in Deuteronomy says: “and you should speak of them. . . while walking on your way.” (Deut. 6:7, part of the first paragraph of the Shma.)

I like this because it suggests that fulfilling the Torah (however one understands that to happen) in a rote, automatic way isn’t enough- one has to let Judaism permeate one’s being, so that spiritual thoughts and topics just naturally occur while doing other things, even just walking along. Religion isn’t just a matter of doing a bunch of commanded rituals, or confined to the synagogue on Shabbat morning, but should live and breath in our lives. Furthermore, notice that we should talk about what we’ve learned and what we’re doing- not taking it for granted or accepting it automatically, but sharing it, processing it, turning it around, getting new ideas and refining old ones all the time.

The third homiletic meaning of this verse, according to the Ohr HaChaim, is based on the famous teaching that Torah study can happen on 4 “levels”: the plain meaning of the text (pshat); the homiletic or moral expounding of the text (remez); the midrashic or imaginative interpretation (drash); and the secret, mystical meaning (sod.) Based on this concept, the Or HaChaim writes:

These four methods between them account for what our sages call the 70 facets of the Torah. Each of these 70 facets is perceived as being a “path” one walks in the study of God’s teachings. The lesson is that the approach to Torah study should be along a variety of paths.

Thus, not only should we be letting Torah (understood broadly as Jewish teachings) permeate our everyday activities, we should learn the multiple meanings that Torah can encompass. Again, this suggests to me that learning is a dynamic, creative process- one doesn’t learn just one way of doing something, or only one interpretation, but one “walks a variety of paths,” paying attention to different ways of understanding and challenging oneself with new perspectives. In our day, in addition to the 4 “paths” of Torah interpretation, we might add: looking at historical contexts; feminist perspectives; viewing texts in the light of contemporary theologies; denominational perspectives; comparing traditional texts with modern ethical sensibilities; literary theory, and other ways of thinking that we haven’t even thought of yet.

Finally, one additional interpretation of “walking in God’s Torah” will help us pull these threads together. From the Chasidic anthology ‘Itturei Torah‘ (Torah Gems):

“If you will walk in My decrees. . . ” [This means] that one must labor in Torah, according to Rashi. But why then the language of “walking,” since it could have been explicit: “If you will study, ” or “If you will occupy yourselves with Torah?” Because the “going” is the main thing. From the borders [going] all the way up from level to level, one gets to know the quality of laboring and investing oneself in one’s studies. (Translation mine.)

As so many others have said, it’s not where you are, it’s where you’re going, and the fact that you’re putting effort in to get there. As long as you’re “on the path,” and investing yourself in the learning process, that’s the main thing. All of these commentators are suggesting that Jewish growth happens over time in a process of interaction with the texts and traditions- you get out of it what you put into it, like any other educational or developmental process. “Walking” in Torah study means not staying in one place, but growing and learning and deepening one’s perspectives throughout one’s life.