Excerpt Browser

This page displays the full text of excerpts.  When viewing a single excerpt, its “Share,” “Switch Article,” and “Comment” functions are accessible.

GENESIS — 4:16 left

GEN520 The Jewish way to expiation for sin is remarkably universal and democratic. God is available to everyone. As the Book of Jonah reminds us, you don’t have to be Jewish to do teshuvah.  Even the Ninevites, citizens of the capital of the hated Assyrian Empire, gave up their evil ways when Jonah called into account. Then, to Jonah’s intense annoyance, God promptly forgave them.  Jews still read this story every Yom Kippur afternoon to remind us that God listens to the sincerest supplications of gentiles as well as Jews. And this narrative also makes plain the Jewish belief that every human being, without needing a “professional” clergy or special rite, can do teshuvah by directly asking for God’s forgiveness. Our tradition teaches that people are capable and God is caring. As the rabbi said: “The only intercessors with God a person needs are repentance and good deeds” Shabbat 32a “Even if your sins are as high as heaven, even onto the seventh Heaven, and even to the throne of glory, and you repent, I will receive you” Pesikta Rabbati 185a, in Montefiore and Loewe, A Rabbinic Anthology, cf. 44.7 Scholars debate the reason that this belief achieved its prominence in rabbinic teaching.  Did we ask for forgiveness in the wake of the Temple’s destruction, blaming this massive catastrophe on our grievous sins?  Or was it developed as a conscious tenet to counter beliefs in an emerging Christian church?  An early midrash states the rabbinic view succinctly: “And Cain went out” [this verse].  On his way Cain met his father Adam [neither of them, of course, were Jews]. The latter, surprised to see his son, asked: ‘What has happened to the judgment of death that God passed upon you for killing Abel?’ Cain replied, ‘I repented, and I am pardoned.’  When Adam heard that, he smote his face and said, ‘Is the power of repentance as great as that? I did not know it was so’” Leviticus Rabbah 10:5. In contrast to Jewish teaching as it emerged at this time, classic Christian doctrine teaches that people are born as sinners, an inheritance from what Adam and Eve did in the Garden of Eden. That being the inevitable human condition, people cannot reconcile themselves to God on their own. But out of God’s abundant love for humanity, God sends the Christ into history. His self-sacrifice thus saves people from their sinful state.  Judaism teaches that God’s love for people is so great, they only need to show God a genuine desire to turn away from their sin, and God will accept them.  Indeed, the rabbis do not hesitate to suggest that God, so to speak, also participates in our repentance: “A king’s son was sick, and the doctor said that if he would eat a certain thing, he would be healed.  But the son was too frightened to eat it. His father said to him, ‘So that you may know that it will not harm you, I will eat of it.’  God said to Israel, ‘You are ashamed to repent; behold, I will be the first to repent,’ as it is written: Thus says Adonai, Behold I will turn’ [Jeremiah 30:18] Pesikta Rabbah 44:7.  Are we exaggerating the rabbinic love of teshuvah? If so, we stand in good company: “R. Levi said: If the Israelites would but repent for one day, they would be redeemed, and the Messiah, the son of David, would come straight away, as it says, ‘Today, if you would but hear His voice’ [Psalm 95:7]” Song of Songs Rabbah 5:2 BOROJMV 273-4

SHOW FULL EXCERPT

GENESIS — 8:21 evil

GEN635 Building on this biblical background [See Genesis 4:7 rule BOROJMV 173-4. – AJL], the rabbis provide a graphic parable of our inner struggle between good and evil: “The Bible tells us, ‘Better is a poor and a wise child than an old and foolish king who cannot accept correction’ Ecclesiastes 4:13.  The phrase ‘a poor and wise child’ refers to the yetzer ha-tov, the good urge. Why is it called ‘wise’? Because it directs people onto the right paths. Why is it called ‘poor’? Because not everyone pays attention to it.  Why is it called a ‘child’? Because the good urge doesn’t emerge until a person becomes thirteen.  The phase ‘an old and foolish king’ refers to the yetzer ha-ra, the evil urge.  Why is it called ‘king’?  Because all parts of the body heed it.  Why is it called ‘old’? Because it is part of a person from his youth through his old age, as the Torah says, ‘For the disposition of a person’s heart is evil from his youth’ [this verse], that is, from the time that he was expelled from his mother’s womb.  Why is it called ‘foolish’? Because it directs people into evil ways” Midrash Psalms 9:5. Although our current studies of human development demand that we refine our understanding of such rabbinic generalizations, it is, nonetheless, sometimes unnerving to meet ourselves in their description of human behavior. Kids still “do the darndest things” without worrying about the consequences. And we adults often seem afflicted with a similar moral amnesia.  Why else do we get flustered and agitated right before we do something we know we shouldn’t?  BOROJMV 174-5

SHOW FULL EXCERPT

GENESIS — 15:6 reckoned

GEN840 (Continued from [[1037]] Leviticus 25:35 live with BOROJMV 126). The Tur’s [Jacob b. Asher, D. 1340, Arbaah Turim (The Four Pillars), “Yoreh Deah” (He Teaches Knowledge), Ch. 251] ruling [regarding help priorities] returns to the traditional hierarchy, almost equating our connection to parents and then to adult children with the obligation to first help ourselves.  We are told to help others only after we have taken care of “our” own needs.  “Should it happen that his parents have been taken captive and he does not have the means to ransom them all, he should follow this priority: He should ransom his father and leave the sons, then ransom the sons, then his brothers, then his other relatives, then his neighbors, then other people from the city, and after these, [He should ransom] captives from other lands.” Even when lives are in danger, perhaps particularly when that is so, we should follow the classic tzedakah priority list.  Though we may empathize with the downtrodden of the whole universe, we must first use our means to save those who gave us life and only then reach out to others with our remaining funds. We pray that God spares us from such heart-rending choices! But should they occur, the Tur gives us tradition to guide us. “Should anyone’s extended household include poor orphans, it is a mitzvah and a good thing to employ them as servants; even though this means over-staffing has home, it will surely be “accounted to him as tzedakah [this verse]. Translated into English, the phrase “even if it means over-staffing” maybe too literal. In fact, the Tur directs us to hire this needy person, even if we have little use of the services. So, for example, this holds if we have one domestic and don’t need two. This hiring has little to do with household needs, but everything to do with the needs of the orphan, whom we thus help. BOROJMV 126

SHOW FULL EXCERPT

GENESIS — 15:15 peace

GEN853 Since even good lives are filled with toil and turmoil, we remember our beloved dead by saying, after we mention their names, alav/aleha ha-shalom, peace be upon him/her. This is a hope that dates back to the Bible: “R. Levi b. Hita said: One who leaves a funeral should not say to the dead, ‘Go unto peace’ but, ‘Go in peace’ … because God said to Abraham, “You shall go to your fathers in peace’ [this verse]. Mo’ed Katan 29a. Particularly when someone has suffered protracted emotional adversity or physical pain, the release promised by the peace of death can almost be welcomed. As R. Meir taught: “When a righteous man departs from the world, three groups of angels warmly receive him with the greeting of shalom. The first says, ‘Let him enter in peace,’ the second says,  ‘Let him rest on his couch,’ and the third says, ‘Each one that walked in righteousness’ Isaiah 57:2” Numbers Rabbah 11:7. But even those whose lives have not been particularly troubled hope for an ultimate peace. So we read about Judah ha-Nasi: “As Rabbi was dying, he raised his fingers toward heaven and prayed, ‘Sovereign of the universe, it is revealed and known to you that I have labored in the study of Torah with all ten of my fingers and that I did not seek the benefits of this world with even the littlest of them. May it be Your will, therefore, that there be peace in my final resting place.’ A Heavenly Voice then proclaimed, ‘He shall enter into peace; they shall rest on their beds’ Isaiah 57:2Ketubot 104a. To this day at funerals and memorial services we intone the El malei rahamin prayer, “God, full of compassion…” which in resounding conclusion appeals: May Adonai be his/her possession and may his/her repose be shalom.” BOROJMV 244

SHOW FULL EXCERPT

GENESIS — 18:5 morsel

GEN918 Our teachers have long pointed to hospitality as a favorite example of the open, generous heart. It is easy to understand why. Not so long ago, the world was not equipped to welcome outsiders. There were few roadmaps or atlases, no hotel or restaurant chains, and certainly no plastic to substitute for currency. Although inns existed, they were poor alternatives for genuinely offered hospitality after a long day. Travelers welcome the sight of an open door and a friendly face. Strangers became friends when invited to “break bread” together. Even those with little to spare stretched their meager provisions for the sake of hospitality.  [Author Borowitz] fondly remembers how newcomers were soon seated around the kitchen tables in his grandmothers’ tenement apartments. As the sage R. Dimi taught: “Hospitality to wayfarers is greater than welcoming the Shekhinah” [Divine Presence] Shabbat 127a. Yehiel b. Yekutiel, the 13th century Roman ethicist, suggests that this is so natural, we might even learn nedivut from the rooster: “When he chances on something to eat, he calls his fellows to eat with him. Sometimes he even chooses food and places it before them” Sefer Maalot Hamiddot.    Because our patriarch Abraham showed legendary hospitality to the three men/angels who came to his tent, the rabbis name Abraham as the classic example of nedivut: [this verse and 18:7] The rabbis note that Abraham did not send a servant, but he himself “ran” to provide his guests with food.   Our teachers cannot praise Abraham’s nedivut enough: “All who possess these three attributes are disciples of our father Abraham: a good eye, a humble spirit, and a modest soul” Avot 5:22 The medieval ethical work Orhot Tzaddikim says: “There are three kinds of generosity: generosity with money, generosity with one’s body, and generosity with one’s wisdom—and all three are found in Abraham.” The Hasidic rebbe known as the Yehudi, Yaakov Yitzhak of Przysucha, goes even further, attributing to our first patriarchal almost Divine capabilities: ‘Abraham stood over the Angels and they did eat’ Genesis 18:8 Angels have virtues and flaws, and men have virtues and flaws. The virtue of angels is that they cannot deteriorate, put their flaw is that they cannot improve. Man’s flaw is that he can deteriorate, but his virtue is that he can improve. However, someone who practices nedivut acquires the virtues of his guests.   Thus Abraham acquired the virtue of angels, that of not being able to deteriorate. And so he stood over and above them” Buber, Tales of the Hasidim, bk. 2, The Later Masters. BOROJMV 94-5

SHOW FULL EXCERPT

GENESIS — 18:6 hastened

GEN922 In the Bible’s quite patriarchal tradition, Abraham is zerizut’s [zeal] great exemplar. We note how his zeal emphasizes velocity as he provides hospitality for God’s messengers: “Abraham went quickly into Sarah’s tent and said, ‘Hurry, make cakes.’ Then Abraham ran to the herd to select a tender and choice calf, and gave it to his servants, who hastened to prepare it.” [this and following verses] Some sages find zeal in Abraham’s response to God’s awesome command to sacrifice Isaac: “Abraham rose early the next morning, saddled his ass, took two lads and his son Isaac, the wood for the offering and set out for the place ...” Genesis 22:3   No wonder the classic description of proper religious vigor is zerizim makdimim le-mitzvot, the diligent rush to do a mitzvah Pesachim 4a. Judah b. Tema states this dramatically: “Be as strong as the leopard, soaring as the eagle, fleet as the hart, and mighty as the lion to do the will of our Father in Heaven” Avot 5:23   And of course we must mention those five diligent B’nei Brak rabbis who got so engrossed in performing the maggid (storytelling) step of their seder that they continued their discussion until dawn. As we read each Pesah, “everyone who extends the telling is praiseworthy.” But the rabbis did not promote religious zerizut unconditionally.  Consider the enigma of the highly esteemed second-century teacher Ben Azzai, who said: “run to fulfill even a slight precept as you would to perform a great one” Avot 4:2, a clear invitation to scrupulosity. When Ben Azzai died, the religious leaders of the day called him “The last of the industrious scholars” Sotah 9:15 But for some reason, he was never ordained. Did they sense that his devotion had subtly evolved into a compulsion to feed his pride? Whatever the case, in eight separate talmudic citations the rabbis debate whether taking on special stringencies of observance, humrot, leads to pridefulness, a grievous vice that should be shunned.   It is possible to become so meticulous about observing a law that one loses all sense of its never-changing purpose: building a Jewish relationship with God. One famous late-medieval Lithuanian halakhist, Solomon Luria, recorded the opinions of those who believed that it made no difference whether such practices were done publicly or privately—The person who did them should be put under a ban. Yam Shel Shelomo [the Sea of Solomon], Bava Kamma chapter 7, par. 41. Luzzato summed it up well: “No one should carry zeal or confidence to excess” Mesillat Yesharim BOROJMV 89-90

SHOW FULL EXCERPT

RSS
12345678910
Back To Top