Month: September 2014

This week, the Torah makes us uncomfortable. It tells us something that we don’t want to hear: that there are harsh consequences if we turn away from G-d and His Torah. We are His nation, and our lives and successes depend upon remembering this. The Ohr HaChaim reminds us that we’ve heard this before, in the Torah portion Bechukosai at the end of Leviticus. Why does the Torah repeats the curses, at double the length — and, unlike the first time, not follow with words of consolation?

He explains that the first set speaks to us as a nation, in the plural, leaving open the possibility that we might get the wrong idea: as long as part of Israel is doing the right thing, perhaps HaShem won’t be concerned about those doing evil. Thus the second set speaks to us as individuals — and, of course, the Torah cannot guarantee that every individual will experience, in this world, the consolation of Israel that follows. The Torah reminds us once again that every individual Jew is part of the entire nation, and we are all responsible for each other.

Recently, two Rabbis wrote op-eds debating the importance of intent versus practice. The first Rabbi argued that a person on a path of growth is “on the spiritual scale, light years beyond those who go through the motions.” The second countered that “putting too much emphasis on intention… [can] mislead people into thinking that the intent is equal to, or even more important than, the act itself.”

They are both right.

It is obvious that both the one who is filled with spiritual feelings of closeness to God yet does not act upon them, and the one who performs the Commandments but without feeling or devotion, suffers from a profound lack. Both of these things must travel together.

At the same time, however, we cannot minimize the accomplishment of being “halfway there.” The first Rabbi wrote his reflections after speaking with a woman who felt tremendous spiritual motivation, yet felt that a particular area of Jewish practice (which he left unspecified) so intimidating that she felt unable to move forward. And she felt unable to do even that with which she was fully comfortable, because of the philosophical hurdle she had yet to overcome. And on the other side, those who lack inspiration inevitably feel their observance falling away, because doing a ritual without feeling can leave a person simply feeling worse than before.

In both cases, a person’s bad inclination is trying to convince him or her not to do the right thing. Every single positive step has tremendous value, and that includes both the person who prays with sincerity but does not fully observe, and the person who observes everything but lacks emotion. Focusing upon the negative simply leads a person to a feeling of hopelessness, while placing our attention upon the positive leads us to aim higher in the future.

When I founded Project Genesis over two decades ago, I recall speaking to a Rabbi who was and remains one of the leading figures in Jewish outreach. Unlike many others, he was not enthusiastic. He said to me: “the goal of Jewish outreach is to help an uninformed Jewish person go from 0 to 1000. What you are doing can only help a person from 0 to 1!”

The years that followed proved him mistaken, in that many people found their Jewish lives tremendously enriched even if their sole source of inspiration came via the Internet. [Many of you have shared stories with us; I hope that if you are reading this and have a story of your own growth through Torah.org and other programs, that you will send it to us, either privately or in the comments.] But that was not why he told me, nearly a decade later, that he had changed his mind. Rather, it was the realization that one is infinitely greater than zero.

Every step up has tremendous value, and must inspire us to continue to grow in both spirituality and practice, every day of our lives.

The Torah reading begins this week with three seemingly unrelated laws. First it teaches us how an Israelite soldier must conduct himself if, in the course of capturing a city, he is attracted to a captive woman. Then it explains the laws of inheritance if a man has two wives, and would like to give preference to the eldest son of the wife he loves, although that son is younger than his true firstborn, who comes from a wife he dislikes. And finally, the Torah tells us about the wayward son, who sets himself on a path of evil.

Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki shows us that the Torah is teaching a profound lesson here. First of all, recognizing human nature, the Torah does not offer a blanket prohibition against marrying a captive. The morally reprehensible conduct of most victorious armies is, of course, prohibited — even if a woman beautifies herself in the hopes of winning a soldier, which was apparently not uncommon. Rather, the Torah demands that she be brought to his home, that her fine clothing and jewelry be exchanged for garments of mourning, and that she cry for her lost family. Rashi explains that the Torah is ensuring that the heat of the moment passes, and she appears in ugly clothes without makeup, the soldier has an opportunity to reconsider his rash interest.

And if he does go ahead and marry her anyways, Rashi adds, that is how he is going to end up with a wife that he dislikes. And that, in turn, is how he is going to find himself with a son committed to wayward behavior.

The Talmud in Sanhedrin says (with one dissenting opinion) that the laws of the wayward son are so intricate and difficult that they were never actually carried out. The Torah made it impossible, practically, for a young man to be punished with death for having disobeyed and stolen (specifically meat and wine). If so, what was the purpose of telling us a Commandment that was never applicable? The sole purpose of this passage, then, is the moral lesson to be derived from it.

The Torah does not tell us in every case that a behavior is prohibited. Human beings have different needs, and what may be appropriate and even beneficial for the spiritual growth of one person may be detrimental to another. Each individual must have the opportunity to choose the good, facing an inclination that wants to fool him or her into thinking that any permitted action will lead to a positive end. As we know, the world doesn’t work that way.

Sometimes, two people can ask a Rabbi a what appears to be the same question, and receive very different answers. This often has to do with the circumstances surrounding the question. It’s acceptable to eat kosher fruit off a nonkosher plate, if invited to a dinner where it would seem impolite not to eat anything at all. Does that mean it’s a good idea to keep nonkosher plates in your house, to use only for cold items? Of course not.

One must look down the road at the likely results of his or her actions: “who is wise? The one who perceives the future” [Talmud Tamid 32a, see also Rebbe Shimon in Chapters of the Fathers 2:13]. The Torah is warning us that you can’t simply look at the list of Commandments and say “it’s not forbidden, so it’s okay.” Nothing is so simple. The Torah is trying to set each person on a path of individual growth, and one must, with guidance, look to the future and choose the path that will lead to greater heights.