Parasha Ki Tetze

Love and Justice

The story is told of Rabbi Simeon ben Shetah.  He was one of our great sages.  He believed his learning had been a gift to him from his teachers, and he wanted to make it a gift to his students. So, he never charged them for their lessons, but instead earned his livelihood by making deliveries.  One day, out of gratitude for all he did for them, his students bought him a donkey from an Arab in the marketplace. The rabbi was very grateful and moved by the thoughtfulness of his students. Upon examining the donkey, he found a small pouch tied around its neck. He opened the pouch, and out fell a large diamond.

"How wonderful," said his students.  "Now our rabbi will no longer be poor."

"But this diamond does not belong to me," said Rabbi Simeon ben Shetach. "It belongs to the man who sold you the donkey."

His students began to argue with their teacher.  "The Arab sold us the whole donkey," they said. "It was attached to the animal when we bought it, and so, according to the law, you need not return it." 

"Of what use is my learning if I do not act in the right way?" said Rabbi Simon Ben Shetach.  He took the diamond and returned it to the Arab.  When he did so, the Arab exclaimed, "Blessed be the G-d of Shimon Ben Shetach".

The question that I have about this story is this – what is it supposed to teach us?  Isn't it obvious that the students of Rabbi Simeon ben Shetach are wrong?  Isn't it obvious that they ought to return the diamond to its rightful owner?  Where is the tension in this story?  What is so special about this story that it has been preserved in our tradition for 2000 years?  Here's what I think. The story wants us to ask this question -- Would the students have argued that they did not have to return the diamond if they had bought the donkey from a fellow student?  If they had bought the donkey from a neighbor living next door, would they have argued that they did not have to return it?  If they had bought the donkey from a member of their synagogue, would even one of them have argued that we need not return it because it came attached to the animal they bought?  Of course not.  The only reason they made the argument that they should keep the diamond is that they thought that since they bought it from an Arab, they could keep it.  They probably made the assumption, that if the shoe were on the other foot, the Arab would not have returned the valuable item to them, so they were justified in devising a rationale, or finding a law, that would let them keep it.  Since they bought the donkey from someone who was "other than us", they argued that they did not have to return it.  There's "us" and then there's "them".  There is one set of rules for how we relate to one another, and there is another set of rules for how we relate to "them".  With "us" we do the reasonable thing, and return the diamond which we have not paid for and therefore don't deserve to keep.  You don't have to be a moral giant to know this. But with "them" the story teaches about our temptation to find a rationale that justifies our keeping the diamond, something that would be unthinkable if it had been a transaction with one of our own kind. 

That's why Rabbi Simeon ben Shetach's action is so extra-ordinary.  Simeon ben Shetach is teaching us that there is no "us" and "them" when it comes to acting justly.  There is no special kind of justice that we put into place when it comes to dealing with Jews, and another standard of justice when it comes to dealing with others.  There is not one standard of justice for men and another standard for women, one standard for blacks and another standard for whites, one standard for the rich and one standard for the poor, one standard for gays and another standard for straights.  There is not one justice for those who we consider our friends, and another for those who we consider our enemies.  Our concept of justice derives from G-d, and G-d's justice applies to everybody, equally, without regard to race, or religion, nationality, gender or sexual orientation, or whether we like them or whether they like us!  That is why the Arab, when Simeon ben Shetach returned the diamond, did not say, "G-d bless you, Simeon ben Shetach." He said, "Blessed be the G-d of Simeon ben Shetach."  He didn't praise the rabbi, he praised the G-d of the rabbi.  He knew that it was the belief in a moral G-d whose justice transcends all of the ways we divide the world up that caused the rabbi to return the jewel to him. 

The social critic John Ruskin wrote, "If we do justice to our brother, even though we may not like him, we will come to love him; but if we do injustice to him because we do not love him, we shall come to hate him."  It is a challenge for us, as individuals and as a nation, to deal justly with those who we do not like.  Yet, as the story shows, this is the path toward love and true reconciliation, for who cannot help but love the Arab who says, "Blessed be the G-d of Simeon ben Shetach." 

Shabbat shalom

 

 

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Rabbi Marc D. Rudolph

Congregation Beth Shalom

Naperville, Illinois

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Rabbi Marc D. Rudolph

Congregation Beth Shalom

Naperville, Illinois

Parasha Shoftim 5772

Balancing Justice and Compassion

Last week thousands of young people gathered at Navy Pier in Chicago. The crowd was so large that it spilled off the pier, through the park and along Lake Shore Drive. No, it wasn't for the Chicago Air Show, which also took place last week.  These were young people, there to take advantage of a deportation deferral program initiated by the government.  Under the program, the federal government will grant a two-year reprieve from deportation to illegal immigrants who are under age 31 and have been in this country since they were children.  Individuals who meet these as well as other requirements would be legally able to work and attend college in the United States for the first time in their lives.

Darinco Barron, age 17, was one of these young people. She was brought with her parents from Mexico when she was six years old.  She was interviewed in the Tribune. "I know there are a lot of people without documentation who want to continue their school and work and make a better life for their families," she said.  And no matter how you may feel about the issue of illegal immigration in general and about this program in particular --  and I know it is controversial  -- it's hard not to sympathize with these young people who want to better themselves and participate in the American dream. 

You may not know it, but Israel too, has a problem with illegal immigration. In some ways it is an even more serious problem that we have in the United States, because, as you know, Israel is a much smaller country, much more densely populated, and has less capacity to absorb and integrate illegal immigrants.  At first it was a small problem, but lately it has grown into a much larger one.  Refugees from war torn and starving countries of Africa – Sudan, South Sudan, and Eritrea, have been making their way across the Sinai desert to Israel over the past six years.  In all of 2006, 3000 Africans came to Israel this way. By 2012, this number had exploded to 3000 a month!  In all, there are now 60,000 illegal African immigrants concentrated in a neighborhood near the bus station in Tel-Aviv.  A social worker describes the experience of her client this way:

"One of my clients, a woman from Sudan, cried as she described how she was imprisoned, beaten, burned and raped in Sudan by military officials.  She fled first to Egypt where she was beaten by Bedouin in the Sinai desert, then ducked gunfire from Egyptian border guards until she finally reached safety in Israel.  Since she did not receive adequate medical assistance upon entering Israel, she is now in pain, depressed and vulnerable."

As the African neighborhood in Tel-Aviv has grown, so have the problems related to poverty, trauma, displacement and over-crowding. Crime is on the rise, and resentment is growing among Israelis. There have been anti-African riots by those who live in neighborhoods near the refugees, and the kind of blind hatred directed toward them that we Jews know all too well.  No one knows what to do. The Tel Aviv Chief of Police has suggested that Israel make it legal for these refugees to work.  Minister of the Interior Eli Yishai suggested that Israel erect detention camps along its Southern Border and deport the Africans in an orderly and humane way.  The idea of Israel concentrating people in camps for the purpose of deportation is an irony that was not lost on anyone.

What does the Torah teach us about how to deal with this problem?  This week in our Torah reading we read that the Jewish people should pursue "Justice".  Israel is a country which was established in the hope that the highest values and ideals of the Torah can be put into practice.  After 2000 years of living among other nations, the Jewish people, under Jewish sovereignty, with Jewish laws, have an opportunity to build a just society where the principals of Torah can be lived. It says in the Torah 36 times – "You shall be kind to the stranger, for you were once strangers in the land of Egypt."  The most vulnerable people among us are the very ones the Torah tells us that we should protect. How can Israel simply expel them? Where would they go? Who would take them?  

But can Israel afford to keep them?  These are people who do not speak Hebrew, who have no job skills, who are traumatized and in need of social services.  They are also not Jewish.  If Israel is to remain a Jewish state, then the overwhelming majority of the population must be Jewish.  If Israel takes in refugees without end, when does the very nature of the Jewish state become compromised?   Is there a limit to the amount of help that we can give someone? 

It turns out, that there is an answer to the question of how much we are obligated to help others. Our Torah reading for this week says that each and every person must give ten percent of whatever they earn to charity. But, the Talmud adds that a person cannot give more than twenty percent. Why? The rabbis were concerned that a person would give too much, and therefore be in need of charity themselves. We are obligated to help, but not to the extent that we will irreparably harm ourselves.  What is true for individuals must also be true for nations.

Our Torah reading for this week opens with the words, "Justice, Justice you shall pursue." Justice, according to many, means doing everything we could to expel people living in our countries illegally. Upholding the rule of law, I know, is important.  Failure to enforce laws is in itself a form of injustice, and breeds cynicism and a lack of respect for the rule of law. But we also know that even G-d does not rule the world with complete justice.  Our sages say that if G-d did so, the world would not have the merit to even exist. Instead, G-d balances that justice with compassion.  We must as well.

As we can see, acting "justly" is not always a simple matter.  The Torah recognizes that too. It tells us that if a matter is too baffling for us, we should take it to our wise men and women for advice.  In our age of democracy, however, it is up to all of us to contribute to the solution. May we find the proper balance between justice and compassion as we grapple with the issue of illegal immigration, both here in the United States and in Israel.

 

 

 

Parasha R'eh

Sanctifying G-d's Name

The parasha for this week, R'eh, begins with Moses telling the Israelites that G-d has placed before them a choice. Do they want to live a life of blessings and prosperity? Or, do they wish to live lives that are cursed?  If one wishes to be blessed, one must follow the commandments which G-d places before us in the Torah.

As we know, there are six hundred and thirteen commandments in the Torah. The sages realized that following all of the commandments is a monumental task. So, the Talmud tells us, King David came along and reduced that number to eleven.  Isaiah came along and reduced that number to six.  Micah reduced them to three, and Isaiah reduces them again, to two!  Finally, the prophet Habbakuk reduces them to one—ve-tsadik beemunato yichyeh – "The righteous shall live by his faith".

I would agree with you if you think that that is more than a little vague.  That is why I want to introduce to you tonight the concept of Kiddush HaShem.  Kiddush HaShem means, literally, the sanctification of G-d's name.  It is most closely associated in our tradition with martyrdom.  But one does not have to die for G-d to sanctify G-d's name. We can, and do sanctify G-d in living as well. The concept of Kiddush HaShem calls upon us to live our lives in a way which reflects positively on God, on our tradition, and on our people. It challenges us to do our best to avoid embarrassing or destructive behavior that would reflect badly on both Israel's God and on our fellow Jews.   So as we go through life, that is what we should remember we are here to do.  Sanctify and honor God, and not cause God any embarrassment.

                So, how do we do this? The past two weeks there were two extra-ordinary examples of Kiddush Hashem that made the headlines.  One was related to a triumph, and one was related to a tragedy.  Yet each can be instructive in how we might live our lives sanctifying G-d's name.

                I was watching the Olympics one evening when one of the gymnasts on the American team by the name of Alexandra Raisman began her floor exercise.  I thought she might be Jewish from her name, but when she accompanied her performance to Hava Nagilah I was sure of it.  I excitedly went to the internet to confirm this, and, afterward, I had my favorite Olympic athlete to root for!  G-d bless her, she won two gold medals and a bronze in the Olympics. But, more important than winning, she was also sanctifying G-d's name.

Why is this a good example of Kiddush HaShem?  First, it was the music she chose.  When asked later about the choice, she simply responded, "I am Jewish, and that's why I wanted that floor music."  In other words, "I wanted that music because it expresses who I am, and being Jewish is a large part of that equation."  Allie Raisman did not feel she had to sacrifice or downplay her Jewish identity in order to compete and achieve at the highest levels of her chosen field.

Secondly, in an interview afterward, she connected the music she chose with the 40^th anniversary of the Munich massacre of Israeli athletes. "Having that music wasn't intentional," she explained, "but the fact that it was on the 40^th anniversary is special….I would have stood if there was a moment of silence in their memory".  In saying this, she wasn't trying to stir up controversy or criticize the Olympic committee. But when asked about it, she answered simply and directly.  In doing so, she brought honor to her country and to her religion, and that is Kiddush Hashem.

The second example of Kiddush HaShem occurred the very same week.  Dr. Donald Liu, a University of Chicago pediatric surgeon, 50 years old and the father of three children, drowned in Lake Michigan trying to save two children who were caught in a rip tide. The children made it to shore safely.  Dr. Liu was an accomplished and much beloved and respected physician who worked one day a week at Edward Hospital in Naperville.  I have to tell you, it is the kind of tragedy that leaves you shaking your head wondering why G-d didn't save this man, who was beloved by his patients and who saved the lives of so many others.

The day after the original article appeared in the Tribune, another article was published. There was a picture of Dr. Liu with his wife and three daughters.  His oldest daughter, 13, was wearing a tallis. Dr. Lui was wearing a yalmulke.  It was the family bat mitzvah picture, which the family had celebrated several months before. The article noted that Dr. Liu had converted to Judaism years before.   

In most cases where a prominent person dies, the newspaper uses a picture from their news file. I imagine the family had to make a special request to use the bat mitzvah picture. In this way, I felt, the family was honoring Judaism as much as they were honoring their husband and father.  They were bringing praise not only upon Dr. Lui, but they chose to use the occasion to honor G-d and the Jewish people. 

In all our endeavors, in all our relationships with others, we must always act in a way that demonstrates Kiddush Hashem, sanctifying God's Name. We want others to look at us and say, not only, "there goes a fine person" but also, "there goes a person who is a blessing to the Jewish people and to G-d." We need not be heroes to practice Kiddush HaShem.  In countless ways in our daily lives we can find ways that bring honor to ourselves, to the Jewish people, and to G-d.

Shabbat Shalom

 

Parasha Ekev

 

This week's parasaha, Ekev, contains the proof-text of for the Birkat Ha-Mazon, that is, the Grace after Meals.  "When you have eaten and been satisfied," the text says, "you shall bless Adonai, your G-d for the good land which G-d has given you."  The Torah does not tell us HOW we should bless G-d, however. It doesn't tell us the words we should say. It was up to the rabbis of the Talmud to develop this blessing.  In doing so, they took the instruction a bit further than the literal commandment that is presented in the Torah.

They took it a bit further in that they did not only bless the LAND.  The Birkat Ha-Mazon they wrote goes beyond that.  It contains four blessings.  The first blessing thanks G-d for providing food for ALL creatures.  In fact, the word for "all" or "every" appears six times in this first blessing, and concludes by thanking G-d for sustaining "all life".  The second blessing is narrower in scope. It thanks G-d for the Land of Israel and its bounty. It also thanks G-d for redeeming us from Egypt, for establishing a covenant with the People of Israel, and for the Torah. The third blessing is also particular to the Jewish people.  It asks G-d to have mercy on Israel and to restore the symbols of political sovereignty to the land of Israel – Jerusalem, the House of David, and the Temple.  The fourth blessing moves us back to a wider scope, as it describes G-d as the "ruler of the universe" who is a "sovereign who is good to all."  It concludes by asking G-d to always bestow upon us grace, kindness, and compassion.

In some ways, this parallels the blessings we recite morning and evening around the Shema.  These too begin with G-d as Creator of the natural world and move to G-d's particular relationship with the Jewish people. The themes of Creation, Revelation, and Redemption are found in the Birkat HaMazon, just as they are found in our morning and evening services.  You can see that the rabbis used the occasion of people sitting down for a meal to address themes that go well beyond thanking G-d for food. In fact, the Birkat Ha-Mazon is a brief worship service in itself.  

When we recite the Birkat Ha-Mazon we are reminded to be grateful to G-d for all that we have.  We are also reminded that although we have worked hard for the food that is before us, none of it would be there were it not for the goodness and beneficence of G-d, who is the ultimate provider of this food.  We are, as it were, dependent on G-d for our sustenance.  It is far better to be dependent on G-d, however, that to be dependent on our fellow human beings for our food.  The Birkat Hamazon acknowledges the shame that often comes with dependency on others when it says in the third paragraph:

Please, O Lord our God, do not make us dependent on the gifts or the loans of other people, but only on your full, open, holy, and generous hand, so that we may not suffer shame or humiliation forever and ever.  The Sephardic tradition adds to this:  "For the gifts that they give are small, and the embarrassment that they cause is great."

 This is a reminder that, above all, when we give to those in need, we must do it with sensitivity to the feelings of those to whom we give.  The story is told in "The Book of the Pious" a 13^th century ethical work, of Reuben, an honest man who has fallen on hard times, who asked Shimon to lend him some money. "I won't lend you the money," said Shimon, "I give it to you as a gift." Shimon thought he was being magnanimous. But Reuben was so ashamed and embarrassed that he promised himself he would never ask Shimon for a loan again.  In offering to give Reuben the money instead of loaning it to him, Shimon humiliated him by making him feel like he was no longer an equal, but was part of a lower class, a beggar.

The Birkat Ha-Mazon is a prayer that makes us aware of G-d's presence in our lives and our gratefulness for G-d's gifts. It also reminds us that it is not enough to give to those less fortunate, we must do it in a way that safeguards the dignity of those who are in need.

Shabbat Shalom

 

 

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Rabbi Marc D. Rudolph

Congregation Beth Shalom

Naperville, Illinois

Parasha Ve'etchanan

Back From Vacation

Shabbat Shalom. It is great to be back here this evening with Congregation Beth Shalom. Middy and I missed you.  We had a wonderful vacation, what I called our "Cultural Tour of the Midwest and the South." We embarked on a road trip that took us to Springfield Illinois to explore Lincoln and to Hannibal Missouri, Mark Twain's birthplace. We spent two days in St. Louis and another two in Branson, Missouri, before moving on to Memphis, Tennessee, Nashville and Louisville Kentucky.  I always have my antenna out for Jewish connections when we travel, and over the next few weeks I want to share some of those that I found.

In this week's parasha, we find the source of the most important prayer in our liturgy, the Shema. It is found, in its entirety, in Deuteronomy, chapter 6.  Imagine my surprise, and delight, when I found this the following quotation by Lincoln as I opened a book devoted to his sayings in the Lincoln Homestead bookstore:

"When any church will inscribe over its altar as its sole qualification for membership the Savior's condensed statement of the substance of both Law and Gospel, "Thou shalt love the Lord with all thy heart and with all thy soul and thy neighbor as thyself", that church will I join with all my heart and with all my soul."

We know that Lincoln knew his Bible – he taught himself to read and write by studying the Bible by the light of the fireplace in the humble log cabin in which he was raised (a model of which is in the Lincoln Museum we visited.)  How was it, however, that he chose the very words of the Shema as the motto of the creed that he would gladly follow. "Love thy neighbor as thyself" – these are the words from Leviticus that Rabbi Akiva said were the most important words of the Torah! It sounds that Lincoln would have been a good prospect to sign up for synagogue membership.

Digging a bit deeper, I discovered that there had been plenty of speculation about Lincoln's relationship to Judaism. Lincoln had a number of Jewish friends. He never professed a religion publically, nor was he ever identified with a particular Church. Rabbi Isaac Mayer Wise of Cincinnati, one of the most prominent Rabbis in this country at the time, asserted that Lincoln was, in fact, Jewish! Two weeks after Lincoln's assassination Rabbi Wise published this in the Cincinnati Commercial

"Abraham Lincoln believed himself to be bone of our bone and flesh of our flesh. He supposed himself to be of Hebrew parentage, he said so in my presence, and indeed he possessed the common features of the Hebrew race in both countenance and features." [1]

There is no independent evidence that can establish whether Lincoln actually thought himself to be Jewish or whether he was simply exchanging pleasantries with Rabbi Wise.  But there were two actions Lincoln took during the civil war that demonstrate his sense of fairness when it came to our people who were just beginning to establish themselves in this country.

Here is the first -- In the fall of 1861, Rabbi Dr. Arnold Fischel applied to be Chaplain of the Cameron Dragoons, a New York regiment largely composed of Jews. His application was denied. Congress had a few months before passed an act, which was signed into law by Lincoln, that "chaplains must be regularly ordained ministers of some Christian denomination." Prominent Jews and their organizations lobbied to change this law with Congress and with the President. In a letter dated December 14, 1861, Lincoln wrote to Rabbi Fischel indicating that he knew the law was deficient and promising to present a new law to the appropriate committee in Congress. "I shall try to have the new law broad enough to cover what is desired by you on behalf of the Israelites," wrote Lincoln. In March, 1862, the Act was amended to authorize the appointment as Brigade Chaplain those who are of the "Catholic, Protestant or Jewish religion".

In addition to the Lincoln Museum, Library, Homestead and Law Offices, Middy and I also visited the Old State House, very near to Lincoln's law office. It was in the Old State House that Lincoln gave his famous "House Divided" speech in 1858. He made his headquarters for his Presidential campaign in an office adjacent to the governor's office. It was the building where Lincoln laid in state in May 3-4, 1865. On the second floor of this building is a statue of Stephan A. Douglas, who Lincoln famously debated in his losing senatorial campaign of 1858. On that floor also hung a portrait of Ulysses S. Grant, who had come to that very office to volunteer his services to the Union cause at the outbreak of the Civil War.

That brings us to Lincoln's second action -- In May, 1862, Grant's army was stationed in the Tennessee/Kentucky area. As commander of the army, Grant was responsible for regulating the trade of cotton between the South and the North. A raging black market developed for Southern cotton. As cotton prices soared in the North, smugglers bribed Union soldiers to allow them to buy and transport Southern cotton without a permit. In the fall of 1862, Grant's office was flooded by merchants seeking permits to trade Southern cotton. One of these businessmen was Grant's own father, seeking a permit on behalf of some businessmen in Cincinnati, some of whom were Jews.  Grant had had enough.

Although some of the merchants acting illegally were Jews, the majority were not. Despite this, Grant made a classic anti-semitic move. He issued order number 11, which ordered the expulsion of all Jews from the territories controlled by the 13^th Army Core – an area that included Tennessee, Kentucky, and Mississippi. These mass expulsions had been part and parcel of the historical experience of Jews in Europe for centuries, but this was a first for the United States. The Jewish community sprung into action. Cesar J. Kaskel of Paducah, Kentucky set out for Washington. He was escorted to the White House by Ohio congressman John A. Gurley, and apprised Lincoln personally of what was happening. The Bnai Brith Missouri Lodge dispatched a letter of protest to the White House in the name of "hundreds who have been driven from their houses deprived of their liberty and injured in their property without having violated any law or regulation …..of the thousands of our Brethren ... who have died ... for the Union ...in the name of religious liberty, of justice and humanity." The Board of Delegates of American Israelites in New York sent a resolution condemning "this illegal unjust and tyrannical mandate depriving American Citizens of the Jewish faith of their precious rights, driving them because of their religious profession, from their business and homes……" [2]

Lincoln revoked the Grant's order immediately. He expressed surprise that Grant had issued such a command, and noted that "to condemn a class is, to say the least, to wrong the good with the bad." He drew no distinction between Jew and Gentile, the president said, and would allow no American to be wronged because of his religious affiliation.[3]

I do not want you to leave tonight thinking that Grant was an anti-semite, despite this black mark on his military career. He carried the Jewish vote in 1868 on his way to the White House, and named several Jews to high office. Grant became the first President to attend a synagogue service, when Adas Yisrael in Washington DC inaugurated its new building in 1876. He contributed $10 to the synagogue building fund, the equivalent of $200 today.[4] As President Grant  publically protested the mistreatment of Jews in Russia and Romania.

I find this history inspiring in a number of ways. It shows Abraham Lincoln as upholding the highest ideals of this country, not only with regard to slavery, but with regard to the equality of all people. Furthermore, Lincoln, a very busy man, took a personal interest in the fate and the future of the Jewish people in the United States.  As the great liberator, he must have wondered about his connection to that other heroic liberator of our tradition, Moses. Perhaps this was partly on his mind when he noted his "Hebrew parentage" to Rabbi Isaac Mayer Wise. Through Moses, he must have indeed felt related to the Jewish people.

I also find inspiration in the reaction of the Jews of the time to attempts to marginalize or exclude them from the rights and responsibilities of American citizenship. They were a small minority in a country new to them, mostly first or second generation here. Yet they responded vigorously when their civil rights were threatened and were most effective in changing unjust laws directed against them as a group. American Jews would later be instrumental in the development of labor unions which ended the exploitation of the workers in our country. We advocated for the recognition of the State of Israel, and lent our energies and sense of justice to the civil rights movement in the 1960s. American Jews would be at the forefront of the feminist movement, and the movement to free Soviet Jewry. American Jews continue to be fully engaged in issues of social and economic justice down to our own day. That is a history to be proud of.

Shabbat Shalom

 

 

 

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[1] Markens, Isaac Abraham Lincoln and the Jews New York, 1909

[2] http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/loc/abe2.html

[3] http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/anti-semitism/grant.html

[4] http://www.jhsgw.org/grant.php

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Rabbi Marc D. Rudolph

Congregation Beth Shalom

Naperville, Illinois