Tisha be'Av, Tu be'Av and a harrowing hostage account

Just over a week ago, on the night of Tisha Be’Av, I started making my way through Eli Sharabi’s account of his experiences as a hostage in Gaza. The book is direct and to the point, providing readers with the impression that they have a constant birds-eye view of Eli’s suffering and survival techniques throughout his time in captivity.

While the whole book creates a tension and anxiety that makes it difficult to put down, there is one particular passage that jumped out at me from the page. This passage relates how, at one point of his ordeal, he was confined into a small tunnel area together with a number of other hostages. Their captors would provide meagre meals of pitta and dips to the entire group without apportioning food between them.

Eli is struck by the way in which the hostages seem to split into two groups: those who are single and do not have children instinctively grab what they can to assuage their persistent hunger while those who are married with children approach automatically with a different perspective. They identify the needs of the whole group as those of their own and look for a way to apportion the food fairly.

Upon reading this my mind jumped to a teaching in the Tosefta Sanhedrin (chap. 7) that one who is a eunuch or one without children is disqualified from presiding over capital cases. As it was explained to me, a person who is in a full marital and family relationship looks at the world, and in particular, people, in a different way. This is not a criticism of those who are not in such a situation – but it would explain why Judaism (and perhaps religion in general) places such an emphasis on the pivotal role of family.

With Tu Be’Av – often referred to as the Jewish Valentine’s Day – being marked yesterday, it is a timely reminder of how sexual activity is not restricted or seen as negative by the Torah. Rather, the Torah seeks to channel such activity in a manner that minimises its ability to influence the mind towards viewing sex from a purely self-centred perspective. This is why Jewish law promotes sexual intercourse within the strict confines of marriage – a meaningful relationship based on mutual love and respect. In the context of a relationship of this nature, which is predicated on giving rather than taking, an activity which could otherwise embody the most extreme form of self-gratification and even exploitation now becomes an opportunity to superimpose a higher set of values upon the person’s inherently selfish focus.

The notion that sexuality can be profoundly transformed and elevated when placed in the context of marriage is developed by Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, who writes:

“If you should inquire as to the essence and meaning of the institution of marriage, I would say that through marriage the miraculous transition from the I-it contact to the I-you relationship occurs. Marriage personalizes sexuality as the joint experience of the I and the you.”

It would seem that Eli Sharabi’s anecdote that individuals who have experienced this form of relationship gain an altogether different way of relating to all other people that they encounter – not just those in their immediate family.

Rav Soloveitchik taught in this vein that two different people can perform an identical act of kindness – yet the attitudes that govern these acts can make them effectively worlds apart.

A regular person, he writes, will perform an act of charity, giving a coin to a poor person.

Regarding a normal act of kindness:

“I am committed to genuinely helping a poor man, am genuinely committed to furthering his wellbeing … [M]y personality is still individual, still unique, still all-exclusive. I help out the Thou but he remains other to me.”

For a person who has truly internalised the Torah’s message of loving others as themselves, however:

“my personality shifts from being all-exclusive to being all-inclusive. The poor man is no longer an other separate from me. In God-like fashion my helping him out becomes a way of letting him share in my existence and reality. My helping him out thus becomes an act of imitatio Dei, an act of God-like hesed in the sense that I do not simple give to him, but I identify with him”.

A profound message contained in just one small passage of Eli Sharabi’s powerful and educational account of how to survive and retain one’s human dignity in the most challenging and degrading circumstances.

We continue to pray constantly for the rest of the hostages – including some of Eli’s tunnel-mates – to be released immediately.

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Deification of defacation? The inside story of Ba'al Pe'or

The opening portion of yesterday’s Torah reading concluded told of Pinchas’s exploits and reward – the conclusion of the sorry story of Israel’s entrapment in idolatry and immorality. While all idolatry is strictly opposed and prohibited by the Torah, there is something particularly unusual and unsettling about the worship of Ba’al Pe’or which draws the attention of the sages.

On Sanhedrin (60b), we read that the mode of worship of Ba’al Pe’or was defecation in front of it. In Rabbi S. R. Hirsch’s understanding, such a public act which goes against an innate human feeling of dignity and self-respect was deeply symbolic. It was intended to convey and internalize the message that humans are no different to animals – who feel no shame in publicly defecating. The public display of immorality that followed was a similar failing, not only sinning but performing the sin in a way which belied the usual human feelings of shame of committing sexual acts in public.

The philosophy of Pe’or worship in this telling is a complete abandonment of human dignity and shame – what Rav Hirsch called an almost Darwinian declaration that humans are not distinct from the animal kingdom. In keeping with this suggestion, the prophet Hoshea (9:10) described those who worshipped Ba’al Pe’or as having separated themselves for dedication to shame.

Judaism Reclaimed approaches the episode of Bila’am based on a midrashically-enhanced idea that, as representative prophet of the 70 nations, Bila’am sought to have Israel’s special chosen status revoked. Several verses openly state that Israel was not particularly worthy of leaving Egypt, receiving the Torah and entering the Land in their own right – they were mostly riding on the coattails of the Avot.

God clearly rejected Bila’am’s petition and doubled-down on Israel’s continued suitability as chosen nation to represent His word and teachings the world. Bila’am, it would seem, attempted to have the last laugh – seeking to demonstrate that he could lure the Jews to surrender not only their special enhanced status but even their very human dignity and Tzelem Elokim spark.

In light of this explanation we can gain a new appreciation for the verses stated in Devarim 4:3-4:

Your eyes have seen what God did at Baal Peor, for every man who went after Baal Peor, Hashem your God has exterminated from your midst. But you who cleave to Hashem your God are alive, all of you, this day.

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Ayin Hara: A dangerous spiritual force or behavioural guide?

 few days ago, I received a Whatsapp message advertising the services of an “Ayin Hara lady” who could, it promised, banish any unwanted afflictions caused by the Evil Eye. Molten lead included. All for the small fee of $101!

The advertisement prompted me to recall an excellent Shiur I heard from Rabbi Aubrey Hersh a few years ago on the subject. I also noted that it has relevance to yesterday’s Torah reading, with Bilaam characterised by the sages as having possessed an “Evil Eye”.

Rabbi Hersh’s unexpected source for the concept of Ayin Hara was a series of verses towards the end of Parashat Mishpatim in which we are warned not to oppress or taunt strangers, widows and orphans. If such vulnerable people are mistreated, the passage continues, there will be a measure-for-measure punishment: “My wrath will be kindled, and I will slay you with the sword, and your wives will be widows and your children orphans.” (Shemot 22:23).

Without entering into the many questions that this raises concerning the nature of divine justice, there is a very clear message which can be taken from these verses. If you are fortunate enough to have been blessed with family, health and wealth, then these are blessings which God has showered upon you in order for you to have the wherewithal to improve and develop yourself and help those around you. But what of someone who has been blessed by God and subsequently uses their position in order to taunt and oppress those who are lacking and vulnerable? “If you oppress him, [beware,] for if he cries out to Me, I will surely hear his cry.” (Shemot 22:22).

This then is the reason why one should not flaunt one’s blessings in front of others. Proudly talking of one’s children and grandchildren – or one’s investments and vacations – in front of others in a way that might lead to jealousy and resentment. If people are oppressed because you are blessed, then the “Evil Eye” will cause it to be divinely redressed. It is not a dark or evil force that can be offset by strange rituals of molten lead. It is divine punishment for a severe character failing and misuse of divine blessings which can be set right by, as the Haftarah concluded yesterday, “walking modestly with God”.

Many of the traditional teachings concerning Ayin Hara also fit this model. Yosef was understood to be immune to the effects of Ayin Hara. This imparts an important principle since Yosef did achieve a position of wealth and prominence in his later years but, in contrast to (and perhaps in response to) the behaviour of his youth, his blessings were used to benefit those around him rather than engender jealousy.

The notion that fish symbolise some form of antidote or exception to Ayin Hara likewise makes sense without viewing them as magical creatures imbued with special protective powers. While fish are “blessed with multitudes of offspring” – the prayer recited Rosh Hashanah night asks God to make us as fertile as fish – their blessing is concealed beneath the water and thus not considered to be flaunted at others.

One prominent example of Ayin Hara found in the Midrash is found in the context of Sara and Hagar, where Sara is understood to have “placed an Evil Eye” on Hagar after she conceived, causing her to miscarry. Setting aside the implications for peshat and how literally we approach such a Midrash, this certainly fits the teaching presented here since Hagar, as a result of conceiving where Sara could not, now looks down on and mocks her mistress causing her to cry out in pain to God.

The evil eye here, again, is not about magical or demonic powers but rather it is a profound metaphor for character development, the proper approach to blessings and training oneself to consider the feelings of others.

Bilaam’s association with the Evil Eye is a little more complex. Judaism Reclaimed develops a theory, based on Midrashic interpretation sprinkled with a few hints from the verses, that Bilaam primary complaint against the Jewish nation arose from a form of jealousy. He recognises that they have ancestral merit working in their favour from the Avot and he is constantly attempting to argue that they are not worthy of this special assistance. He wants to present the nations as unjustifiably slighted as a result of Israel’s blessings and cries out to God in prayer as a result.

However, there is an additional dimension to Ayin Hara which is particularly pertinent to our discussion. Rambam, in his commentary to the 5th chapter of Avot (5:19), discusses the reasons why those with “Ayin Ra” are labelled students of Bilaam. There he contrasts the behaviour and attitudes to materialism displayed by Bilaam and Avraham. Bilaam, he points out, was so motivated by the wealth promised by Balak that he rushed over from Syria to curse the Israel; Avraham in contrast, even having fought in the battle of the 4-5 kings to rescue Lot, refused to take even a shoe strap as compensation.

We can right ask ourselves whether a person demanding $101 to perform some magical rite in order to “cure Ayin Hara” is actually perpetuating the very ill that she is claiming to heal.

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Aiming High: Holy Nation and Resurrection

Since God is understood to be aware of our thoughts and feelings, and “probe the inner recesses of our heart”, it is not surprising that Judaism places great value on thoughts and aspirations – not just on a person’s actions. However noble and praiseworthy our spiritual ambitions may be, however, we must be extremely careful not to confuse them with our reality and consider ourselves more worthy than we really are. This, writes Rabbi S. R. Hirsch was the critical error of Korach and his assembly.

Focusing on Korach's statement: "the entire congregation are all holy and have God in their midst, and why have you elevated yourself over the community of God?" Rav Hirsch suggests that Korach's error was to confuse destiny with reality. The Jewish people had certainly been accorded the title of “holy nation”, but this meant only that they had been set aside for a holy purpose, to aspire and raise themselves towards holiness by dedicating themselves to God and His Torah (“tiheyun li” – you SHALL be to Me). The presence of God's Mishkan in their midst gave this holy ideal a symbolic expression, but there remained clearly defined boundaries and rules governing who could enter the Mishkan and when such entry would be permitted.

The danger posed by Korach's claims of equality of holiness and status for each Jew, and universal qualification to interpret the Torah, represented a threat to the entire system and process of expounding halachah. This is because those claims suggested that the nation had collectively arrived at a level of holiness and understanding that obviated any need for religious leadership or guidance in interpreting the Torah. Korach’s assertions drew an emphatic response from God, a miraculous phenomenon to demonstrate unambiguously the fallacy of such claims. This phenomenon was thus intended to make it clear that the nation designated to be holy must rely on the religious guidance of its members who have already succeeded in refining their character and relationship with God.

But while it’s important to have the clarity to distinguish one’s ambitions and goals from one’s reality, there are some scenarios in which Judaism certainly does place strong emphasis on aspirations. One possible example of this is the closing chapter of Rambam’s Hilchot Teshuvah which describes a level of religious worship – out of love and pure motive – that it recognizes are only practically attainable by a small minority of people. It would seem that there is religious value when one approaches the process of repentance in being aware and accepting the nature of higher levels of Judaism even if they are always likely to lie beyond one’s personal reality. On a more practical level, this may also explain the widespread custom that people have of striving to higher levels of observance during the Ten Days of Repentance despite the knowledge that this is a short-term effort that is unlikely to be sustained.

Finally, Judaism Reclaimed dedicates several chapters to the difficult subject of Resurrection of the Dead in Rambam’s thought. One possibility explored is the interpretation of Rambam offered by Rabbi Yosef Albo’s Sefer Ha’Ikkarim. Briefly stated, Rabbi Albo suggests that Resurrection represents an opportunity for those who were honest and righteous Jews yet lacked the life opportunities to develop the sort of spiritual connection to God necessary for an enhanced portion in the World to Come. Techiyat Hameitim, in a future idyllic Messianic era, affords such pious individuals the chance to pursue religious and spiritual perfection under optimum conditions.

Which attributes or merits does one require in order to qualify for this techiyah? Various Talmudic sources appear to support this understanding of Rambam’s approach to techiyah. One Gemara in Kiddushin (39b) identifies two mitzvot upon which techiyat hametim depends: sending away the mother bird and the honouring of one’s parents. These two mitzvot involve basic human character traits and attitudes regarding sensitivity to the feelings of others. This therefore makes them suitable determinants of whether a person deserves to receive another opportunity to maximise his Olam Haba under more favourable conditions. Arrogance, by contrast, is seen as a destructive trait that can prevent a person from receiving a second opportunity of techiya (Sotah 8b).

Another Gemara, in Ketubot (111b), mentions the merit of Torah study being connected to qualifying for techiyah. Crucially, however, it is not specifically the study of Torah which makes one worthy of resurrection: even seeking a connection to Torah study (such as by supporting Torah scholars) will achieve that result. The common denominator of these Gemaras is that what is most crucial in meriting techiyah is one’s attitude and effort. What one is aspiring towards not necessarily what has already been achieved. This can be contrasted, in Rambam’s line of thought, with qualification for Olam Haba itself, which focuses on the reality of a person having achieved an intellectual perception of divine truths.

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Hidden miracles and working within nature

Recent days have been a whirlwind of emotions and dramatic news cycles – punctuated with regular sprints to the nearest bomb shelter. While the heart-stopping screech from our phones and nerve-jangling wails of the sirens often occur at ungodly hours, there is no lack of indication of divine footprints accompanying this latest leg of Israel’s historic journey.

Surely the most conspicuous instance of this is what transpired at Beersheva’s Soroka hospital, at the end of last week. When news of a direct missile hit on the hospital filtered through our underground bunker we all feared the worst. There was nothing short of amazement when it was subsequently revealed that the imploded building had been evacuated by a concerned advisor just 11 hours earlier.

Reflecting on the way in which a mass-casualty-event was averted, it is striking how the apparent display of providence parallels the Maimonidean approach to the phenomenon. As Judaism Reclaimed explores in detail, Rambam understands that the primary avenue through which God intervenes in human affairs is by providing flashes of inspired knowledge and intuition to a person making critical decisions. Providing an example with a tragic association from his personal life, Rambam describes how God would not typically interfere with the rules of nature in order to prevent a boat from sinking in a storm at sea. Rather he would provide certain individuals with the foresight and instinct to navigate such worldly dangers and thereby avoid death and misfortune.

What is particularly important to note here, however, is that the apparent providence on display last week in Beersheva did not obviate the need for careful planning and security precautions – in fact it boosted and inspired the sensible decision making. The building had not been cleared under standard procedures implemented at the start of the war. But when Moshe Bar Siman Tov reviewed Soroka’s safety the afternoon before the strike, he ordered an evacuation which thoroughly surprised the hospital staff.

This theme of combining providence – perhaps miraculous – intervention with the laws of nature is one which occurred to me again during yesterday’s Torah reading. The episode of the spies, in which the nation despairs of its ability to conquer Canaan despite God’s promise, can be contrasted with how God dealt with them during their exit from Egypt:

“It came to pass when Pharaoh let the people go, that God did not lead them [by] way of the land of the Philistines for it was near, because God said, Lest the people reconsider when they see war and return to Egypt.”

As part of his analysis of the rationale for korbanot, Rambam identifies a fundamental principle contained within this verse. God, he explains, did not miraculously intervene in order to fortify the nation and ply them with superhuman courage in order to comply with His will that they journey in the most direct way to the Promised Land. Rather He worked within human nature, recognising the innate weaknesses of newly-released slaves and their inability to rise and challenge the mighty Philistines.

With the passage of time, however, God sought to toughen the nation up with their desert sojourn, providing in the meantime an array of signs and wonders to build their confidence in His willingness and ability to assist them. In the aftermath of the episode of the spies, therefore, God anticipates that they have internalised this message. In light of this, all the people “who perceived My glory, and the signs that I performed in Egypt and in the desert” are held responsible and punished for their lack of faith. For their inability to acknowledge God’s ability and willingness to operate – even within the laws of nature – to inspire His people to navigate and transcend the severe challenges with which they are confronted.

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Heavenly thoughts in human language

The chapter of Judaism Reclaimed which relates to parashat Beha’alotecha focuses on how Rambam places great emphasis on the ability of the Torah to be relevant to the entire nation, a matter of great importance given that the nation as a whole was not equipped to comprehend the Torah fully until the end of their stay in the desert. For this reason, he as Rambam explains, the Torah's style and content is carefully nuanced, enabling it to engage and guide individuals regardless of their personal ability and aptitude. This principle manifests itself in many ways.

One important aspect of this phenomena is the way in which the Torah, in order to engage and relate to all sectors of the Jewish nation, adopts a style of depicting God through the extensive use of anthropomorphism that, if taken literally, is not merely inaccurate but actually blasphemous. Rambam justifies this practice by invoking the maxim "dibrah Torah belashon b'nei adam": that anthropomorphism is required in order to ensure that God's existence is fully accepted and understood, even by people whose minds are only equipped to relate to physical existence, not metaphysical spirituality. The Torah therefore describes God in human terms, portraying Him as moving, speaking and standing — terms relating to activities which are only truly applicable to physically limited beings and therefore blasphemous when applied to God.

This phrase of “the Torah speaks in the language of man” is most commonly found in its Talmudic application, where it refers to specific linguistic styles. The wider application of this principle to the Torah’s use of anthropomorphism is widely regarded as a Maimonidean innovation. Judaism Reclaimed shows however that it was invoked in this manner by a number of important prior rabbinic figures such as Hai Gaon, Yehudah Halevi and Bachya ibn Pakuda (as well as a midrashic source).

While the Torah deliberately employs anthropomorphic terminology when describing God and His actions, the Targum plays the crucial role of indicating to readers that anthropomorphic descriptions are not to be read literally. Rambam, Moreh Nevuchim 1:27, writes glowingly of how Onkelos's 'translations' subtly departed from the Torah’s literal physical descriptions of God while doing so in a way that the masses were able to comprehend. Onkelos achieved this by, for example, referring in the context of God “moving” to God's shechinah (literally “presence”) rather than God Himself, and by God 'revealing Himself' rather than directly speaking to people. The important role of Targum as an antidote to literal anthropomorphism may explain why the Gemara (Berachot 8a-b) urges the practice of “shnayim Mikra ve’echad Targum” (the practice of reading each verse of the Torah twice in the original Hebrew and once in the Aramaic of the Targum).

Rambam's position is consistent with the great importance accorded to the Targum by the Gemara in Megillah 3a, which writes that the Targum Onkelos is an explanation of the Torah's text which can be traced back to Ezra, and the commentaries tell us, was part of the oral tradition which originated from Sinai. In their commentaries to this Gemara, R' Chananel and Meiri also emphasise the role of the Targum in reducing the impact of the anthropomorphic style of the Torah's text, writing that anyone who amends the text of the Targum in favour of a more literal translation of the Torah is himself considered to be blaspheming.

In his Limits of Orthodox Theology, Marc Shapiro expressed shock at Rambam’s position on anthropomorphism; specifically the notion that the Torah initially encourages heretical views as a necessary stepping stone to achieving true beliefs. A broader perspective of Rambam’s approach however allows one to appreciate that the Torah’s function is not to confront the Jewish people abruptly with a list of strict truths and demands which can be immediately implemented. Rather, it is a handbook to coax and guide the people towards correct conduct and beliefs. The tension which arises from the need to incorporate within a single religious system the moral, spiritual and intellectual ideals on the one hand, and the practical accommodations which must be made for the nation as a whole on the other, is a central theme in Rambam’s thought. In the analysis of Marvin Fox (Chapter 4, Interpreting Maimonides, University of Chicago Press, 1990), it is this tension which underlies the widely discussed phenomenon of ‘contradictions’ which Rambam discusses in his introduction to Moreh Nevuchim.

More information about Judaism Reclaimed: Philosophy and Theology in the Torah and Talmud Reclaimed: An Ancient Text in the Modern Era can be found at www.TalmudReclaimed.com

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