After Bondi - Leaders’ self-care and service

It is 5 am in New York, and I can’t sleep. I awoke feeling highly alert from a disturbing, relatively mundane but vivid dream about feeling frantic and let down. Wide awake, I take a moment to reflect on what is going on for me these days.

My initial response to the Bondi Beach Hanukkah massacre was a mixture of sadness and responsibility. I showed up for the bereaved and did what I could to address the challenge of Muslim-Jewish relations in Sydney and Australia. However, leaving Sydney and having a break from work with my family in New York has proved challenging some of the time. There is sometimes a sense of unreality about everything that is not the horror of what happened or the work that flows from it. At such moments, I feel alienated.

Creative Commons 4.0 image credit: 
https://www.mentalhappy.com/blog/holiday-priorities-dont-leave-self-care-off-your-list

On Friday night, my nephew, Chaim Kastel, a member of one of the bereaved families, talked at the Shabbat dinner table with my parents and other extended family, about the inspiring response of the Sydney Rabbis, about their service to the community, setting aside any differences or conflicts and rising to the challenge of caring for a community shattered by violence and tragedy. His words moved me to gratitude.

To all my rabbinical colleagues, I thank you and acknowledge your service. It is not easy or clear how to be there for others when you and your families are in pain. Thank you to my brother Mendel, working for the best outcomes for bereaved families and for culturally and religiously appropriate practices for the dead.  This is only a fraction of what you have done. I salute you, older brother, and I celebrate all the Rabbis for everything they have done and are doing.

For me, having (mostly and temporarily) stepped away from “the doing”, I feel a jumble of feelings that are hard to isolate. Anger, as well as sadness. I am not sure where my anger is directed. I have angry thoughts about God. It is ok to feel frustrated with God in the Jewish tradition, particularly in the Chabad school of thought. I will never forget the echoes of the Hebrew word for “Why?” (“Lamah?” “Lamah?”) echoing off the hills at the funeral of Mumbai couple Rabbi Gabi and Rivki Holzberg, murdered by terrorists. The question was posed by Rabbi Mordechai Shmuel Ashkenazi, (1943-2015, then Chief Rabbi of Kfar Chabad, Israel). We don’t accept the argument that human atrocities are just the choices of humans. Our theology teaches that God is present in human events, even if he “hides his face” (1).

I feel drawn to the complaint of Moses after he sent to Pharaoh to solve the problem of the suffering Hebrew slaves. At first, Pharaoh’s response to Moses’ efforts was to make life even harder for the slaves by removing their supply of straw that they needed for building but demanding that they still build as much as before, and when they failed to do the impossible, they were to be beaten (2). The Israelites expressed their annoyance to Moses who then turned to God with the complaint, “Why – (Lamah) have you done bad to this people? And why did you send me (3)”.

The Lubavitcher Rebbe wrote that regardless of God’s response to Moses – that things would improve – the fact that the Torah records Moses’ complaint reflects a degree of legitimacy of that complaint (4). As Jews we are required to believe that God is good and that everything is ultimately for the best, yet we are allowed to cry out in pain about human suffering.

Moses’ complaint seems to have two parts. One was about the people’s suffering, and the second part was about the impact on him as a leader having been sent on a failed mission. Leaders often show great care for others, but we are still human. The pain of failure or the absence of hoped-for achievements is not only an experience in sharing the community’s pain; it also carries a personal cost of frustration and distress.

For me, Bondi was a nightmare that I dreaded could happen and was hoping could be prevented. The failure to prevent it does not make me feel guilty, but it weighs heavily on me as a personal disappointment.

The personal disappointment is a little embarrassing. “It is not about you,” chastises my inner critic. I agree that the suffering of bereaved families is more important than my feelings, and so is the greater suffering of the Jewish community in Sydney and other impacted communities. Yet, I feel what I feel and I am as worthy of care as anyone else. In addition, if I am going to be useful to anyone, I need to acknowledge how I feel and process these feelings.

I draw comfort from commentaries about Moses’ frustration at his involvement (5) in an apparently futile attempt to alleviate the suffering of the slaves. “If they were not going to be saved why involve me in this?” Alternatively, he complained about the timing of his mission when he said, “Why send me now if God is not ready to free the people at this time?” (6)

There are other commentaries that explain Moses’ complaint as being focused on the suffering of the people rather than on himself (7), such as his question, “If sending me was not going to help the people anyway, what was the point?” In other words, Moses had hoped that his mission would reduce the suffering of his people a little, right away. When this failed to eventuate, Moses asked why he was sent if there was no immediate relief. (8)

For leaders, it needs to be about both the people we serve and our own self-care and management. I hope that my colleagues and I do what we need to do to look after ourselves and our emotions. At the same time, along with my inspiring colleagues, I will be there for others and do what I can for a better future. Moses eventually saw the exodus come to fruition and also worked through his personal challenges.

 

1)    Deuteronomy 18:31

2)    Exodus, 5:6- 5:21

3)    Exodus 55:11

4)    Schnneerson, Rabbi MM, Likutei Sichos Vol 1, Shemos.

5)    Seforno, Bechor Shor,

6)    Ohr Hachayim, one explanation, the Netziv in Haamek Davar

7)    Ohr Hachayim alternative explanation

8)    Ralbag, Ibn Ezra, Chizkuni

 

 

 

   

Changing Nature of Jewish Religious Practice in Australia and the Importance of Interfaith Dialogue

An edited version of a talk to the ISRA Studies of Religion Conference in Sydney 10 March 2023

In response to the Studies of Religion Syllabus focus on the changing pattern of religious observance in Australia post-1945, I will discuss one change - the prevalence of Hasidic Rabbis in orthodox synagogues in Sydney. I will also address the importance of Interfaith dialogue.

I begin with a bit of scripture,

Moses came down from Mount Sinai with the two tablets, he was not aware that the skin of his face was radiant… the Israelites were afraid to approach him (Exodus 34:29-30).

The phenomenon is explained by the Midrash[i]. Moses worked closely with God to create the second set of tablets after he broke the first set in response to the worship of the golden calf. Moses held one side of the tablets in his hand – symbolic of the parts of the Torah humans could understand, while the Divine Presence held the other edge – symbolic of the parts of the Torah that only God understands[ii], and in between the two parts was something of profound mystery. It was from this mystery that rays of light appeared on Moses’ face.  

I, a Rabbi from Brooklyn, New York, read this passage while preparing my lesson for a Hasidic-led Synagogue based on the North Shore of Sydney. The congregation I will deliver this lesson to are not Hasidic Jews, but choose to attend the lessons of a Hasidic Rabbi. 

Senior Dayan (Judge) of the Sydney Beth Din 
(Religious court), Rabbi Yehoram Ulman

This reflects a peculiar development of Jewish practice since 1945. Instead of mainstream orthodox Jews being led by Rabbis of the same inclination, they are mostly led by Hasidic Rabbis. In terms familiar to Studies of Religion teachers, many of these Rabbis are less in the mode of Maimonides and his rationalist approach - that would interpret the Torah’s story about a talking donkey as a prophetic vision - and more in the mystical mode of the Baal Shem Tov. This change that has occurred in orthodox Jewish life in Australia is linked to the rise of secularism.

 Australian Jews are generally full participants in Australian culture, and the general trends you will see in the census also hold true for Jews. Like the census data that tell us that more than a third of Australians selected no religion, around 30% of respondents of the Gen17 Australian Jewish Population Survey cited a ‘secular’ outlook or lifestyle[iii].

The trend away from religious observance has been a global one. It prompted a response from the Chabad Hasidic movement to send Rabbis from New York to all corners of the world to call Jews back to religious belief, study, and practice. 

This development is one change in one stream of one faith community in Australia, and it is important not to overstate its significance, even within the Jewish faith. Hasidic Rabbis will often teach from mainstream orthodox perspectives.  Adherence to religious requirements is still mixed, despite the best efforts of the Hasidic Rabbis. 29% of survey respondents reported that only kosher meat was bought for their homes and 14% attend synagogue once or more per week.

Despite the Hasidic background of many Rabbis in Sydney, this has not inhibited interfaith work. Labels can often be misleading. An example of this is my good friend, Imam Farhan Khalil, who comes from a Salafi school of Islam and is one of the most passionate advocates of interfaith I know. 

The interfaith work done by the Together For Humanity Foundation began in a Chabad Hasidic Synagogue in 2002. It was a collaboration between a Hasidic Rabbi, Christians and Muslims spreading a message of goodwill between people of different faiths. One of the early events was covering NSW Parliament with messages from students in response to the visits by the Christian, Jewish and Muslim teams to schools.

During the Sydney siege, Father Patrick McInerny and I said prayers on the steps of Lakemba Mosque alongside Sheikh Wesam Charkawi. This was part of an effort to show interfaith solidarity. It was widely reported in the media, and was part of the spirit of goodwill at the time that prevented that terrible event eroding social cohesion in our city.

There is a lot of effort being put into interfaith. Studies of Religion is strong in NSW, with an active Facebook page with over 1600 members.

School children from different cultures come together in interfaith encounters. These are run by Catholic Mission, the NSW Jewish Board of Deputies and Together For Humanity, to name a few.

An Independent evaluation of Together For Humanity’s work by Western Sydney University found that there was a significant impact from these activities. The research found that programs are effective in assisting students to challenge stereotypes and alleviate their fears. These programs also empower students to deal with prejudice and discrimination and promote the acquisition of empathy, mutual acceptance and belonging. [iv]

Some would argue that if the criteria for evaluating the importance of interfaith dialogue is measured by the number of participants, then it is irrelevant to most Australians and therefore unimportant.

On the other hand, I would argue that the criteria should be based on the need for it, in which case, it is very important.  

To return to the scriptural idea I began with. Some people are drawn to a ‘golden calf’ type of religion. Concrete, solid and uncomplicated. Interfaith work, however, can be linked to the mystery of ’the middle section of the tablets‘. Its mystery involves the complexity of holding in tension; truth claims on one hand, and leaving space and having respect for those who believe and practice differently.

  

[i] Midrash Rabba, Exodus, 47:11

[ii] Etz Yosef on Midrash Rabba, Exodus, 47:11

[iii] https://www.monash.edu/__data/assets/pdf_file/0009/1531791/gen17-initial-findings-report-online-version-final-22_3.pdf

[iv] Gale, F., Edenborough, M., Boccanfuso, E., Hawkins, M., & Sell, C. (2019), Western Sydney University, Australia. Promoting intercultural

understanding, connectedness and belonging: An independent qualitative evaluation of Together For Humanity programs. 

Shaming Disrupts the Flow - Moses’ Rock Strike

Image by BillVriesema - Creative Commons License 2.0

When we are provoked, we must generally respond without shaming our antagonists, nor allowing anger to cloud our judgement. 

It is not always ethical to go along with others’ wishes. Saying yes when our principles require the answer to be no, is to compromise our own integrity. In the context of marriage, saying yes against our principles or needs, has this result: “the lips may be moving one way, but the heart may be saying no silently until the heart breaks from the weight of ’nos’[i]." Sometimes, disagreement escalates into identity conflict[ii] and becomes a contest of claiming the moral high ground – each party trying to be deemed the “good one” and cast the other as the villain. It can then become especially tempting to inflict pain on one’s opponent. Especially for people who have been hurt deeply – and who hasn’t been - there can be an urge to lash out. This blog post will explore the merit of being agreeable in disagreement.  

Let us consider what happened between Moses and the Israelites in the desert. “There was no water for the people to drink, so they gathered onto Moses… (the wording in Hebrew is very similar to the modern expression “pile on”). The people quarrelled with Moses, saying, “If only we had died when our brothers died… Why did you bring [us]… to this desert… and why did you take us out of Egypt… to this terrible place with no grain or figs or vines or pomegranates? ...[iii]”.

While there was a legitimate water problem to solve, the rhetoric from the Israelites was a broad rejection of Moses and God. Let’s think of the relationship between the people and Moses and God as a marriage. Only a short time ago, God - with Moses as his visible messenger - was the knight in shining armour that rescued the Israelites – damsel in distress – from the oppression of Pharaoh. The people threw caution to the wind and displayed great faith in God and Moses, his servant[iv],  walking after Him bravely into a desert, where nothing had been planted[v]. But the honeymoon didn’t last, and the Israelites’ stance was like yelling “Why did I ever marry you? I wish I never met you.”

In response to this attack on Moses, Moses lost his temper with the Israelites, and he used a derogatory label to shame them. In his anger[vi], Moses muddled God’s instructions to him about how to miraculously draw water from a stone. Although God told Moses to speak to the rock to draw water from it, he, instead, hit the rock with a stick. God was disappointed with the way Moses handled this situation, and told him that, because of this failure, Moses would not bring the people to the promised land[vii]. 

Moses had plenty reason to feel angry. The people had, yet again, delegitimised his leadership and life’s achievements. This attack came at a particularly vulnerable time for Moses as he mourned the death of his sister, Miriam[viii]. Yet, one commentator sees Moses’ angry reactions as a significant failure.

The amazingly kind, Berditchever, taught that you can rebuke people, using two different methods. One approach is positive and builds people up. It reminds the people that their very souls originate ‎immediately beneath the Creator’s throne in heaven. It tells people about their ability and privilege to provide God with the pleasure he gets from ‎His people performing His will. The other method of admonishing people involves putting people down and shaming them.

When the positive method is used, it introduces positive energy into the physical world, so that the creations willingly provide for the people. In the case of Moses, if he had spoken positively to the people, then the rock would have responded to Moses’ words with flowing water. However, when people are denigrated, the creations are not in a state of flow. The only way to get them to provide for humans, is with great coercion symbolised by their being beaten with a stick[ix].

There will be times in our lives when others’ disrespect toward us, or unwillingness to support our wishes, might make us feel like we are spiralling down to feel small like a mouse “insignificant, under the foot, hiding, timid and on the run”. It is at such times that we overcompensate for such feelings by swinging in the opposite direction, to become a “monster… obnoxious, and overbearing”[x]. This reaction is understandable but ultimately very destructive - it interrupts the flow of the good things we need and want for ourselves and the people around us.

 

---

[i] Rabbi Shlomo Riskin

[ii]  Heen, S. Patton, B. Stone, D. 2021, Difficult conversations, Penguin

[iii] Numbers 20:2-5

[iv] Exodus 14:31

[v] Jeremiah 2:2

[vi] Sifre to Numbers 31:21, see also Talmud Pesachim 66b, every man who rages, if he is wise his wisdom will leave him…

[vii] Numbers 20:7-12

[viii] Numbers 20:1

[ix] R. Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, Kedushas Levi, on Chukas, Vdibartem El Haselah, p. 303, Sifrei Ohr Hachayim edition, Jerusalem

[x] Brenner, M (2011) Conscious Connectivity, p.70, drawing on the work of Pat Palmer

Breaching Spiritual Language Barriers - Devarim

L-R Jarrod McKenna and Aboriginal Aunty Ellen Gaykamangu 

“It’s shame, miss”, said the 10 year old cheeky Aborginal boy to the deputy principal of his school an hour from Darwin. When he first introduced himself to me and my Together For Humanity interfaith team he gave us a false name, then added; “just gamin'”, which in local slang meant that he was playing with me. For me, his name became, “just gamin'”.

Mohamed Dukuly, Jarrod McKenna and I led a game that illustrated inter-dependence. This Aboriginal boy was very generous in the game, giving away most of what he had. The deputy principal, a non-Aboriginal recent arrival from a far away big city, praised him. The minute she did that, he put his hand over his face. She asked the boy why? He told her it was “shame!” She responded that he had nothing to be ashamed of. She was right, about the English word 'shame'.

The next day our team of a Muslim, Christian and a Jew were joined by an Aboriginal elder, Aunty Ellen Gaykamangu. The elder explained to the deputy principal and the students that, for her people, the word “shame” was actually about respect and being humble. The boy did not want to be put above his peers; for him it was important to behave in a way that everyone is shown the same amount of respect. The road to respect for the boy was through an Indigenous spiritual tradition that no doubt has a word for it in their own language. However, Australia is a land dominated by the English language. So, the original idea is now carried by an English word which does not capture its original flavour and spirit.

As a Jewish boy growing up in New York, I spoke two languages, English and Yiddish. While some elements of Jewish spirituality were expressed through Yiddish words we used, a lot of the sacred texts were in Hebrew, which I did not fully understand at the time. There was also a disconnect between our daily conversation which we held in English and religious guidance which was often given in Yiddish. This sometimes diminished its relevance. Even the English some of our teachers spoke had such heavy Yiddish and Eastern European accents, they might as well have been speaking a different language. Things only really clicked for me when I had an American born teacher who I felt I could relate to.

Spiritual language barriers are important because every language carries its own energy. If our spiritual traditions were formed in a different language, there can be an element of alienation between us and the different vibes that pull us in different directions.

I was delighted to find that this tension is alluded to in my tradition, in this week’s Torah reading. At the end of Moses’ life, he explained the Torah (1). This is interpreted to mean that he explained the Torah in seventy languages (2). It has been suggested that this was for the benefit of the non-Hebrew speaking Israelites in the desert (3). However, another approach is that in Moses’ multi-lingual expounding of the Torah he was laying the groundwork for future exiles among different language groups and their “life force”, or spirit. In some mystical way, Moses was breaching the spiritual language barrier to enable Jewish exiles to live their spirituality wherever they find themselves (4). With the support of the Together For Humanity team, Aunty Ellen did the same thing for young “just gamin”.     

1)    Deuteronomy 1:5.

2)    Midrash Tanchuma Devarim, 2.

3)    Levush Haorah on Deuteronomy 1:5.

4)    Kedushas Levi, Parshas Devarim, Ohr Hachayim edition, p. 325.

Anger vs Flow Chukat

Photo by Luke Addison, published under creative commons
license https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/
 https://www.flickr.com/photos/1uk3/1677426833 

There is a lot of rage and pain in the world right now. Rage about racism. Anger about loss of income and COVID19. Indignation about statues and what they represent.

I have felt very angry recently. Anger can be a healthy response to violations of principles of right and wrong (1).

I learned from the following experience that showing anger is sometimes necessary. As a young Rabbi I supervised several youth workers. One was a brash New Yorker (NY) who I could not trust to be appropriate in a summer camp. Another was a fancy dresser-apparent narcissist (FDAN) who never took any notice of my polite guidance, or criticism of his careless performance. One day I mentioned to FDAN that NY was not welcome in camp because I was not happy with him. FDAN turned to me with the question: “Are you happy with me?” I was so shocked by the question that over a decade later, I remember exactly where we were during that conversation. It had never occurred to me that he cared! Yet, I had deprived him of the essential information that his failure to follow my instructions made me angry.  

On the other hand, more often than not, I think my anger (on the rare occasions that I dare to express it), is destructive and often does little to alleviate the suffering or evil that provoked it in the first place.

This post is not about the situations in which anger is necessary and constructive but those in which a calm and positive approach is helpful.

Research into anti-racism approaches found that accusing people that they are racist does not work. Instead, the literature advises that one must seek to engage people in an open exploration of the issues (2).

This mode of influence is also highlighted in a discussion of the Torah reading this week (3).  Moses was punished during the episode in which the Israelites in the desert were provided with water when he hit a rock.  Prior to hitting the rock, Moses became enraged with the people because of their complaints. He denigrates them by calling them, “You rebels”.  Some opinions view his anger as the problem (4), while others insist that he should have spoken to the rock, instead of hitting it (5).

However, a champion of love, the Chasidic master, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, insists that the two explanations are one (6). There are two modes of influence. One is kind and seeks to focus on the positive characteristics of the person one seeks to influence and the joy and benefit of improving behaviour. The other is harsh and denigrating. If Moses had chosen the former approach, water would have flowed from the rock easily. Because he opted for the latter, it was impossible for him to get water out without a fight. He needed to hit the rock!

Sometimes, one can be an activist or seek to address wrongs in a calm and pleasant way. There is a tendency for activism to be forceful rather than go with the flow. This is not an argument for the one right answer, but to consider the various options available to us and to choose the appropriate tool most likely to achieve a result in the situation.  

Notes

1)    https://www.apa.org/topics/anger/

2)   Pedersen, A., Walker, I., & Wise, M. (2005). Talk Does Not Cook Rice: Beyond anti-racism rhetoric to strategies for social action. Australian Psychologist, 40, 20-30.

3)    Numbers 20:1-13

4)    Maimonides

5)    Rashi

6)    Kedushas Levi, Chukas, p. 303

Reflections on Spirituality and Mental Health A Panel of a Rabbi, Imam and Psychologist at Limmud Oz 2019

“What draws you to this topic?” With this question, our impressive session facilitator, Shirli Kirschner, began our conversation at the Sydney Jewish ideas festival, Limmud Oz. For me,  mental  health is very important as a prerequisite for living my life effectively. I usually start my day with a walk in the forest. Like most people, my work involves stress. In my case, it can feel like I am pushing a boulder up a mountain as I do my work of fostering connections between people of different faiths.

Imam Farhan spoke movingly about a time when he felt deeply depressed after being abruptly fired from his first job as an Imam. He was told right after a controversial sermon to pack his bags and leave the Mosque. The Imam had a double message about faith and mental distress. On the one hand, he insisted that it was ridiculous for members of his community to expect the Imam to deal with everything. It is as ridiculous as expecting the Imam to do heart surgery! On the other hand, Imam Farhan spoke of the solace that faith can bring. He gave the example of the story of Moses, as told in the Islamic tradition (1). In this telling, Moses fled Egypt after he killed an Egyptian taskmaster, who was beating a slave. He sat under a tree and felt desperate, so he cried out to God for assistance. The assistance came quickly with a marriage proposal, a father-in-law and a job for ten years.

Listening to Farhan talk about Moses was delightful. Not just because I really like him and his humour and style. There was a feeling of an additional connection between us as Jews and Muslims by virtue of the fact that we both valued the same story, essentially. In the Torah’s version of this story (2), there is no mention of sitting under the tree, nor of the desperate prayer. However, the idea of Moses feeling emotionally low is expressed in another story in the Torah. In our reading this week, Moses’ beloved father-in-law and mentor left Moses to return home to Midyan (3). After his departure, when faced with complaints by the people, Moses fell into despair to the point of spurning the mission that had been entrusted to him by God (4). He cries out: “Alone, I cannot carry this entire people for it is too hard for me. If this is the way You treat me, please kill me (5).”

Our traditions can bring comfort for people in mental distress. However, they can also be a source of distress. The psychologist on the panel, Professor Amanda Gordon, reflected on her experience of the relationship between faith and grieving. She had long recognised the benefits of traditions of grieving,  such as the practice of Shiva, in which Jewish people will spend seven days at home after the death of a parent, child or sibling. Yet, when it came to her own experience of grieving for her mother, it did not go as conveniently as she might have expected. During the festivals, the Yizkor memorial prayer is read in the Synagogue. For Amanda, who had her first Yizkor this year, it was an alienating experience: she found that the feelings one might expect to feel, could not be activated on demand. Amanda cautioned that the same rituals that bring comfort to some people, can create challenges for others.

Expectations are a source of much sadness. Acceptance can provide us with relief. There are three important elements of acceptance: a) To accept ourselves as we are. A large part of the struggles people experience with mental health is tied up with the question about whether “we are good enough”. Tanya consoles us with the idea that אני לא עשיתי את עצמי - I have not created myself. We cannot blame ourselves for what we are! (6). It is God, who is responsible for our essential nature, not us. b) We need to accept our past mistakes and let go. God has an infinite capacity for forgiveness (7) and if He has forgiven me, I can forgive myself (8). C) A third acceptance relates to work-related stress. We are instructed to rest on the Sabbath, but in six days we should do “all our work” (9). This means that on Friday, when we finish work, we are encouraged to regard our work as complete and avoid thinking about it on the Sabbath (10). Any work not done in the previous week, is irrelevant to the week that passed. It is next week’s work! The psalms said it best: “It is a falsehood for you, early risers, delayers of sleep, eaters of bread of tension! Indeed He [God] will give sleep to those he loves” (11).   

Apart from acceptance, one of the most important elements of well-being, according to Professor Gordon, is connectedness. Imam Fahran talked about the importance of reaching out to people. He gave the example of someone who stops coming to the Mosque. It is important that people check if that person is ok. He linked this with Islamic teachings about the obligations to one’s neighbours, which “...apply to forty houses like this and like this and like this” – and he pointed to the front, to the back, to the right and to the left” (12). The Imam also talked about the alienated young people he worked with as a prison chaplain, and how they can go off in dangerous and violent directions. I shared the experiences young people have in Together For Humanity - experiences that build connectedness, not only between students and their peers, but with the wider community and people of different backgrounds and faiths. In fact, when I asked one Principal what the main benefit of our work was for her students, she said it was developing students’ connectedness.

Notes

1.       The Quran, Surah Qasas(28), Verse 22 to 28.

2.       Exodus 2:11-21

3.       Numbers 10:30

4.       Akedat Yitzchak Rabbi Yitzchak Arama, (1420-1494)

5.       Numbers 11:11-15

6.       Tanya chapter 31, see story of the “ugly man” in the Talmud, Taanis 20a&b,

7.       As we say in the Amida prayer. Blessed is God who graciously, forgives in abundance

8.       Tanya chapter 26

9.       Exodus 20:9

10.    Mechilta cited in Rashi

11.    Psalm 127:2

12.    Haddith, Narrated by Sunan Abu Dawood, Hasan Al Basri.

Angry Moses: You spared all the females?! Mattot

Image by Bas Leenders,  used under Creative Commons License
Attribution-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic (CC BY-SA 2.0) 

The words scream accusingly off the page. Moses, himself, raged against the officers of his army returning from a war of vengeance against the nation of Midian. Moses asked rhetorically, “Have you allowed all the females to live?” (1)

I wrote about this two years ago, but the words don’t fail to disturb me anew. How can I reconcile my belief in the inherent worth of all humans, while also affirming the holiness of this sacred text? I don’t have an answer but I still feel compelled to explore and probe this text. First, by providing the context for how this text is read today in contrast with its historical context. Secondly, by reviewing how traditional scholars have responded to the text in their commentary and, finally, by offering a comment of my own.

Context

Judaism does not permit this kind of behaviour today. This was an instruction, for a particular time over 3000 years ago, by the prophet Moses. Jews no longer have prophets and, therefore, no- one has the authority that Moses had (2). Most modern Jews are not aware of this particular passage. As for those who are aware of it, it is understood in more abstract and metaphoric terms. One example of this is the teaching that Midian, who attacked the Jews with no provocation, is symbolic of baseless hatred which we must eradicate from ourselves (3).

The context of the passage above was a battle ordered by God and presented in the text as revenge against the people of Midian. They (and the Moabites) sought to deliberately destroy the Israelites’ spiritual lives, by sending their daughters to seduce Israelite men and then pressure them to worship the false god Peor, thus incurring upon themselves Divine wrath(4). Theirs was a hostile act that attacked our way of life, at its core (5).

While it may still not justify the deeds in this story, we need to recognise the difference in the conditions of war today, among those who adhere to the Geneva Conventions, in contrast with the conditions of all-out war in ancient times. Today, nations can resort to sanctions to deter others from trampling on their rights, or engage in a limited military operation to protect their interests. In order to survive in ancient times, it is argued that you needed to be as cruel as other nations were (6).

Commentary

Disturbingly, from a modern critical perspective, our earliest commentators did not appear at all concerned about Moses’ desire to see the women dead. On the contrary, we find that Moses had asserted that the battle against Midian was God’s revenge, not that of the Israelites because he argued that “if we had been idol worshippers the Midianites would not hate us or pursue us” (7). Because of this perspective, Moses had a great desire to witness the revenge against Midian before he died (8). The Midianites led the Israelites to sin and ‘leading a person to sin is considered more serious than killing him!’ (9).

However, a later commentator read the phrase “have you allowed all the females to live?” not as a complaint that the Israelites did not kill all the women, but that they allowed all the women to live, including those who had been recognised as being the perpetrators, who seduced the Jewish men and then pressured them into worshiping idols (10).

Another argument was advanced that Phineas and the soldiers did not judge the women to be deserving of punishment because they would have been under the control of their husbands and forced into offering their bodies for the war effort (11). In addition, while two nations engaged in these bizarre battle tactics of using women to lead the Israelites to sin, revenge was taken on only one, Midian, while Moab was spared. This is explained by the fact that Moab felt genuinely threatened by the Israelites (12). These commentaries reflect that, at least, some value was placed on the lives of the Israelites’ “enemies” in our tradition.

Comment

My exploration of this text is far from comprehensive. As I did on my blog two years ago, (2), I leave this matter unresolved. I take some comfort from the fact that I am not the first to be concerned about these deeds. Scholars believe that questions were asked at the time and that Moses himself was disturbed and angered by aspects of the killing (13).  A senior editor of Chabad.org wrote that the “war of retribution on the Midianites...sends chills down my spine” (14). He asserts that “Jews are supposed to ask these questions, even if the answers are not satisfactory”. In asking these questions, we emphasise our abhorrence of genocide and racism, and our tendency to read these texts primarily as metaphoric messages about the importance of rejecting senseless hatred and the disruption of the cultural and spiritual lives of others.

Notes

1)       Numbers 31:14-15

2)       https://torahforsociallyawarehasid.blogspot.com.au/2015/07/defensive-genocide-wrestling-with.html

3)       The Chasidic discourse known as “Heichaltzu” is a prime example of this.

4)       Numbers 25:18, 31:1-2, read in relation to Numbers 25:1-3

5)       Samson Raphael Hirsch on Numbers 31:3

6)       Rav Kook, Igros Hareia, vol 1, p. 100, cited in Sharki, R. Uri, Jewish Morality in War, Parshat Matot, מוסר יהודי במלחמה , לפרשת מטות - דברי הרב אורי שרקי  http://rotter.net/forum/politics/23960.shtml,

7)       Bereshit Rabba on Matos, 2.

8)       Bereshit Rabba on Matos, 5, also in Midrash Tanchuma

9)       Etz Yosef on Bereshit Rabba on Matos, 5

10)   Seforno on Numbers 31:15

11)   Ohr Hachayim Numbers 31:16. However, in the end this argument was countered by the argument that the women had of their own volition and initiative manipulated the Jewish men to worship the idols, which went further than the acts that they were coerced into by the men.

12)   Ralbag, on Numbers 15, Balak, Toelles 1, Mosad Rav Kook edition, p. 135, and Chizkuni

13)   Chasam Sofer, Klei Yakar on Matos

14)   Freeman, T., http://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/2494730/jewish/Torah-and-Genocide-FAQ.htm