PARSHAT PINCHAS
(5768)
UNABLE TO SEE
“Pinchas son of Eleazar son of Aaron the priest has turned back My wrath from the Israelites by displaying among them his passion for me, so that I did not wipe out the Israelite people in My passion.” (Numbers 25:11)
Last week I wrote about the gentile prophet Balaam. Although he had eyes, he was unable to see. In fact his donkey could see with more clarity than Balaam could. That was the whole point of the talking donkey that saw an angel of God and the anger of Balaam who could not see the angel. Here was a perfect example of the Biblical verse, “Eyes they have but they cannot see.” (Psalms 135:16)
This week we read about the reward, which Pinchas received (through a very public act of violence.) Pinchas put a stop to the provocative behavior of the Midianite women and the Israelite men. How did such an orgy get started? According to Jewish tradition, it was Balaam who provoked the Midianite women to seduce the Israelite men. Even after God had turned all of Balaam’s curses into blessings, Balaam still could not see the virtues of Israel. He wanted to provoke them. And so he brought about an incident of sexual excess and eventually a plague, which descended on Israel. All of this happened because Balaam was blind to Israel.
What blinded Balaam? In his case it was money. Balak had offered him a substantial gift if he would curse the Israelites. When the curses did not work, he tried an alternative plan. In next week’s portion we will read how Balaam finally died in the battle against the Midianites. But we look at Balaam now and see a brilliant gentile prophet who could not see because of money. As the Torah teaches, “Do not take bribes for bribes blind the clear-sighted.” (Exodus 23:8)
The story of Balaam raises a fascinating question. Why do people with perfectly good eyesight remain blind to something that is right in front of them? I see this all the time. For example, a woman going through a messy divorce will come to me for counseling. She will share horror stories about her soon-to-be ex-husband. He drinks, he cheats on her, he cannot earn a living, he does not want to pay child support, etc. She will paint of a picture of a true bum, and I will listen sympathetically. But finally I will ask the key question – “Did you see any of this when you were dating him?” The answer I usually receive is, “I guess I saw signs, but he was such a nice guy.” How often do we date someone without really seeing him or her? We are blinded by our wishes and our hopes, and too often by sexual attraction.
Being blind to reality is a universal human phenomenon. I am studying philosophy of science this summer. In my studies, I learned some fascinating facts. Sometimes people cannot see reality because they approach nature with pre-conceived notions. For example, before Copernicus, before Galileo, before Newton, people in the West assumed that the stars were fixed and unchanging. In 1054 there was a great supernova visible throughout the world. There are many Chinese, Japanese, and Arab accounts of this new bright star that slowly faded. But there are virtually no European accounts. It is almost as if such an appearance in the sky would so radically upset people’s notions of the heavens that people could not see it. Sometimes our own pre-conceived notions blind us.
The notion that preconceived ideas prevents us from seeing reality sounds strange. But there have been psychological tests, which also point in this direction. Subjects have been shown a deck of cards with an incongruent card – for example, a black jack of hearts. Usually they see it as a jack of spades or clubs; our minds are not trained to see black hearts in a deck of cards. We see what we are pre-disposed to see.
When the Psalmist speaks of having eyes and being blind, it is not just speaking about ancient idols. It is speaking about all of us. Perhaps the lesson of Balaam and Pinchas is to begin to remove our blinders and try to see the world as it really is.
PARSHAT PINCHAS
(5767)
ZERO POPULATION GROWTH
“This is the enrollment of the Israelites, 601,730.”
(Numbers 26:51)
At the beginning of the book of Numbers, the Israelites took a census of the population, counting the men of military age. The number was 603,350. (Including women and children, that would probably add up to over 2 million.) This week’s portion takes place at the end of forty years of wandering, and features a second population count. During the forty years of wandering, the population of men of military age shrank to 601, 730. There were 1820 less men than before.
The Torah never tells what happened through most of the forty years of wandering while the older population died off and the younger one came of age. One could imagine that the Israelites were fairly demoralized during those years. They could not go into the land but must wander through the desert until the older generation was no more. It is small wonder that a demoralized people had a shrinking population. Often a declining population is a sign of demoralization and lack of purpose.
This brings me to today. Most liberal minded people including most Jews have embraced an ideology of zero population growth. Perhaps God said long ago, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth.” But the earth is filled and our large population brings threats of environmental disaster. This is the reason why we have embraced an ideology of having few children. And so most western nations are not replacing themselves.
We Jews are at the forefront of this ideology. Like the Israelites wandering through the desert, our numbers are diminishing from generation to generation. In America, if not for the Jews moving here from Israel, Latin America, Europe, and Russia, our numbers would be way down. As a people we are marrying later and having less kids. Outside the Orthodox community, we are averaging less than two children per family, far less than we need to replace ourselves.
It is not simply Jews who are not replenishing their numbers. Most Western nations are not replacing themselves through births. Often they are dependent on immigration to replace their numbers. The irony of zero population growth is that it is often third world countries with an over population crisis, so first world countries have stopped having children. If there is overpopulation in Africa, not having children in suburban New York will not solve the problem.
By not replacing ourselves, we are creating another difficult problem in Western culture. We have a growing population of seniors who are living longer and longer. Meanwhile, there are less younger people available not simply to replace them but to help care for them. This is the heart of the Social Security crisis in America; less young working people are paying taxes to care for a growing population of seniors. It is small wander that the average age is getting older. And this is particularly true for American born Jews, as is obvious from the membership lists of most synagogues. We as a people, outside the Orthodox, are getting older.
Zero Population Growth is not a healthy policy for a strong people. We need to have children at a level which replaces ourselves. Jews in particular after losing a third of their population in the holocaust, have an obligation to replace themselves and if possible, help their population to grow once again. With full sensitivity to those unable to have children (most of you know that my wife and I dealt with infertility in our marriage), I urge couples to have as many children as they can realistically afford.
There was low morale in the wilderness and I believe that led to low population growth. I imagine once the Israelites were living in the land with a strong sense of self-esteem and purpose, their population exploded. Jews and other Western nations need to recapture that same sense of purpose and grow their population once again.
PARSHAT PINCHAS
(5766)
REASON VERSUS PASSION
“Let the Lord, the God of the spirits of all flesh, set a man over the congregation,
who may go out before them, and who may go in before them, and who may lead them out, and who may bring them in; that the congregation of the Lord be not as sheep which have no shepherd.” (Numbers 27:16-17)
I have begun studying philosophy once again. As readers of past messages may have noticed, I am particular intrigued by Friedrich Nietzsche, the great German philosopher who sought to undermine Western religious thinking, particular Christian morality. Sometimes I agree with him, more often I disagree with him, but it is impossible to think about the modern world without confronting Nietzsche.
Much of Nietzsche’s philosophy harkens the ancient Greeks. In The Birth of Tragedy, he presents two ways to view the world, based on two Greek gods. On one hand is Dionysus, the Greek god of wine, who represents passion and emotion. On the other hand is Apollo who represents reason and restraint. To quote one authority, “Nietzsche believed that both forces were present in Greek tragedy, and that the true tragedy could only be produced by the tension between them. He used the names Apollonian and Dionysian for the two forces because Apollo, as the sun-god, represents light, clarity, and form, whereas Dionysus, as the wine-god, represents drunkenness and ecstasy.” Life is a struggle between reason and passion. In Nietzsche’s view, philosophy tends to emphasize reason and analytic thinking at the expense of passion. He wanted to reintroduce the power of passion and raw emotions to Western thinking.
Judaism also provides a choice between reason and passion. Nowhere is this clearer than in this week’s portion. Moses is about to die and a new leader must be chosen to carry the Israelites into the Promised Land. Two men are prominent in the portion; both have the potential of being leaders. On the one hand is Pinchas, Moses’ great-nephew, who in a moment of zealousness killed the ring leaders of an orgy and stopped a terrible plague. On the other hand is Joshua, who was at Moses side on Mt. Sinai and was prepared to take over Moses’ role as teacher of the law. Pinchas represents passion; Joshua represents reason. Who would Moses choose?
There is much to be said for choosing passion. It was clear where Pinchas stood and what he believed. He was prepared to act publicly, without equivocation or restraint. Our passions are part of what makes us human. And yet, Moses chose Joshua, a man who would carefully consider options and ask the question, what is the law? Joshua knew that passion must be reined in by reason. Or to quote the words of Ben Zoma from the Talmud, “Who is strong? Whoever controls his passions.” (Avot 4:1) If Moses knew of Greek culture, he would have said Apollo must overrule Dionysus.
I see this struggle between reason and passion played out constantly in my day-to-day counseling as a rabbi. For example, a young man comes to me madly in love with a young woman. His passions draw him towards her, he is almost out of control. His reason tells him that this relationship is not healthy, she is the wrong one. In his heart reason struggles with passion. Many moderns, in the footsteps of Nietzsche would say, follow your passions. (Think how the movies would handle this story.) Judaism is clear – reason must control passion. I would try with whatever power of persuasion I have to convince the young man not to pursue the relationship.
Another example – a woman is not happy with her boss. Passion teaches to express anger, not to hold it in. She is told by friends to express her feelings and let the chips fall where they may. (Think again of what would happen in the movies.) Reason says that if she loses control she may lose her job, which will hurt her more in the long run. I will try to convince her that reason should overrule passion, particularly if her job is important to her.
In each of us, there is a struggle between reason and passion, between Apollo and Dionysus, between Joshua and Pinchas. To Nietzsche, this struggle was the birth of tragedy. To Moses, this struggle is what makes us human. By choosing Joshua, Moses was teaching us that reason should always control passion. Perhaps that is why Nietzsche disliked Judaism.
PARSHAT PINCHAS
(5764)
TO CELEBRATE BY GIVING
"All these you shall offer to the Lord at the stated times, in addition to your votive and freewill offerings." (Numbers 29:39)
Every synagogue keeps one Torah rolled up to the end of this week=s portion. The Torah contains all the various offerings for the Sabbath and New Moon, for Passover, Shavuot, Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot. This Torah is read on all the festivals throughout the year as the maftir, an extra or additional Torah reading.
When a scribe wants to check whether a Torah is still fit to read, he usually checks out this portion. It is the part of the Torah that always wears out first. And it symbolizes an important insight into the Biblical tradition. At each of the festivals, an extra offering was brought to the ancient Temple. We add an extra service on all these occasions known as Musaf which celebrates this special offering. In Orthodox synagogues, Jews pray for the rebuilding of the ancient Temple so we can offer these gifts once again. In non-Orthodox synagogues, we no longer pray for the rebuilding of the Temple, but we still remember the generosity of our ancestors.
The key issue is that on Shabbat and festivals, there are special offerings. The Torah is teaching that we celebrate by giving. These offerings cost money, and involve a financial sacrifice. A joyous occasion is an excuse to give. We celebrate not by asking for more possessions, but by giving of the possessions we already own. We own things in order to give them away. And at a time of celebration, we show our gratitude by giving something away. Every festival is another opportunity to give.
In our tradition, giving charity is key to our cycle of festivals. On Passover we open the door to our homes and invite the hungry in to eat. On the High Holidays, we turn aside our evil decree through acts of tzedaka ("charity"). On Hanukkah we give gifts to children and also to the needy. On Purim we bring gifts of food to neighbors and friends. The best bar and bat mitzvah celebrations include what many call a mitzvah project, teaching the youngster to celebrate coming of age through acts of giving. To celebrate is to give.
This sense of giving has been lost in our modern age. We are concerned with getting. Our secular celebrations, whether birthdays, anniversaries, fathers and mothers days, Valentines day, or the December celebrations of Christmas and Hanukkah are built around receiving gifts. We are disappointed if we do not receive what we believe is coming to us. In fact, in modern Israel there is a common phrase which one hears too often, magiah li "it is coming to me." We are focused on ourselves, what we deserve, what the world owes us. It is precisely the opposite of the Biblical attitude.
Experts speak about the high degree of depression during holiday seasons. Drinking, accidents, suicide attempts all increase during time that should be our happiest of the year. The solution is to fill our festivals with acts of loving kindness. For those who are sad at Thanksgiving, go serve dinner at a homeless shelter. Visit people in a nursing home. Take in a lonely neighbor for dinner. Or just give something away. Nothing lifts the spirits like acts of loving kindness.
In truth, this is a wonderful philosophy of life. Many see life as a contest to acquire more and more goodies. "Whoever dies with the most toys wins." But the best way to celebrate life is by constantly giving things away. Ultimately, we are judged not by what we have, but by what we give. There is no better way to celebrate life.
PARSHAT PINCHAS
(5763)
PASSING THE TORCH
"Moses spoke to the Lord saying, Let the Lord, source of the breath of all flesh, appoint someone over the community, who shall go out before them and come in before them, and who shall take them out and bring them in, so that the Lord's community may not be like sheep that have no shepherd."
(Numbers 27:15-17)
The religious philosopher Reinhold Niebuhr wrote one of my favorite lines, "Nothing worth doing is completed in one lifetime, therefore, we must be saved by hope." Everything important in life must be done over several generations. That is why our liturgy repeats over and over, l'dor vedor "from generation to generation."
Our faith does not emphasize individual salvation, how I as an individual will be saved by God. Rather it emphasizes communal salvation, how I am part of a link in a chain, playing a role in a salvation that happens over many generations. Each generation does its share. As Rabbi Tarfon taught in Pirkei Avot, AIt is not our job to finish the task, nor are we free to avoid it altogether@ (Avot 2:21).
Each of us has a task to perform in life. And then we must find a successor, a student, someone from the new generation to take over the task. If we are unwilling to pass the torch to a new generation, we create a situation of "sheep that have no shepherd."
And yet, how many people do not want to give up power by preparing a younger generation to take over? How often have businesses floundered because the founder never groomed a successor to take over the business? How many synagogues have stagnated because the older generation refused to give up their power and train a new generation? How many parents do not want to let their kids grow up, become adults, and take over? How many of us see ourselves as standing alone, not as part of a chain?
God told Moses that it was time to pass the torch onwards. He would not be permitted to lead his people into the promised land. He must groom a successor to take over and continue his work. It had to be painful for Moses. But he had the wisdom to know that he was part of a chain, his time on earth was limited, and there was still major work to be done.
Who should Moses have picked as successor? I am sure his first choice would have been his own sons, Gershom or Eliezer. We all want our children to carry on our mission in life. But we have heard nothing of Moses' children since their births; they have certainly not stepped forward and shown any leadership qualitites.
Perhaps Moses' great nephew Pinchas would have been the right choice. After all the portion is named after him. Pinchas had zealously guarded the Israelite morality through an act of violence. However, anger and passion do not make a positive leader of a people. A more levelheaded leader was required if the people are to be lead with wisdom and insight.
Moses chose his young follower Joshua the son of Nun. He was an inspired man, able to continue the work of Moses. He could lead the people into the promised land while continuing to teach God's Torah to the people. And so a new generation could continue God's work.
As we grow older, each of us needs to find who will continue our work. It may be one of our children, a student, or someone we have mentored. We must be prepared to pass the source. Our work will continue on through the generations. And as Niebuhr taught us, "therefore, we must be saved by hope."
PARSHAT PINCHAS
(5762)
THE SELF: ME OR I
"Take the sum of all the congregation of the children of Israel, from twenty years old and upward, by their fathers= houses, all that are able to go forth to war in Israel."
(Numbers 26:2)
I am currently rereading a novel that I first read in college, Albert Camus's The Stranger. It is the story of a man who passively lives his life in reaction to other people. His boss wants him to move from his home in Algiers to Paris, and he replies that it doesn=t matter whether he moves or not. His girlfriend wants to marry him, and he also tells her that it doesn't matter. He always chooses the easiest path. He is like the ball in a pinball machine, bouncing this way and that way with no volition of his own - until he murders a man on an Algiers beach.
How often do we human beings live lives of passivity, simply reacting to others? How often do we find ourselves defined by other people? How often do we live our lives according to other people's expectations? How often do we choose the path of least resistance? How often are we objects of other people's lives, rather than subjects of our own lives?
In this week's portion, God ordered a second census taken of the Israelite people. Every male from age twenty and up was to be counted, obviously in preparation for a military conquest. The count was made by tribe and by family. People were defined by the tribe they are born into and by the parents who gave birth to them, not by who they really are.
When each of us entered the world, the news was spread with the words, "So and so had a baby." From our first moment of existence we were defined as somebody's child. In Jewish tradition we receive a Hebrew name: so-and-so the son or the daughter of so-and-so. From our beginning we receive our identity in relationship to other people.
As we go through life, we are often defined by our relationship to others, both other people and other groups. We are somebody=s son or daughter, somebody's brother or sister, somebody's husband or wife, somebody's mother or father, somebody's employee, somebody's boss. We are Americans or foreigners, Jews or Christians, males or females, black or white, Asians or Hispanics. Like the hero in Camus's novel, we live our lives defined by others.
In his book Landscapes of the Soul, philosopher Douglas Porpora speaks about living our lives as subjects rather than objects, defined by ourselves rather than other people. He begins by discussing the sociologist George Herbert Mead. "According to Mead, when we speak of the self, we must make a distinction between the `I' and the `me.' We are each uniquely an `I' and each uniquely a `me.' Our me is who we are now. It is our socially created self, the product of our various social positions, various social influences, and our own past choices. In each moment, however, our selves always transcend our me. Our selves are also always an unqualified I, which can self-consciously reflect on the me and move beyond it." (p. 38)
One of our key tasks as human beings is to stop living simply as a me and became an I. We can not only be objects, defined by other people. We must become subjects, taking control of our own lives and our own destinies. It begins when we move away from our parents and assert ourselves. It is interesting to note that when Abraham left home, he was told lech lecha, literally "go to yourself." Leaving home was not only about moving out, but finding and taking control of his unique self.
Each of us is unique, unlike any other human being who has ever lived or will ever live, with our own mission and our own destiny. Our lives are not defined by other people, not even our parents. Each of us must become the subject, taking control of our life and forging our destiny.
The Torah teaches that when God created us, God said, "Let us make man in our image according to our likeness." Why the plural? My favorite answer is that God did not create us alone. We also must take responsibility to create ourselves.
PARSHAT PINCHAS
(5761)
CONTROLLING LUST
"Pinchas son of Eleazar, son of Aaron the priest, has turned back My wrath from the Israelites by displaying among them his passion for me." (Numbers 25:10)
The story of Pinchas is extremely difficult for moderns to read and comprehend. God rewarded Pinchas for an act of anger and vengeance. He had slain the ring leaders in an encounter between the Israelites and the Midianites that can best be described as an orgy. For Pinchas, the sexual drive was out of control. Through an act of passion, Pinchas stopped these events. For his effort, he was rewarded with an eternal "Covenant of Peace." (Numbers 25:12)
For the past two weeks, we have spoken about the evil inclination or yetzer hara. Every human being is born with two inclinations, good and evil. The evil inclination is really our appetites out of control. It is the part of us that says, "I want what I want and I want it now."
We need our yetzer hara, our evil inclination. Without it, according to Rabbinic tradition, no man would build a house or marry a wife. According to one famous legend, the rabbis once captured the yetzer hara and hid it in a barrel. (Yoma 69a) For three days nothing happened, no one went to work, even the chickens stopped laying eggs. The rabbis had to let the yetzer hara go. This passage teaches that we need our primitive appetites. The goal is to control these appetites, and use them to serve God. As Rashi taught on the Sh'ma, "Serve God with both of your inclinations."
The Rabbis of the Talmud identified the yetzer hara most strongly with the sexual drive out of control. They realized that the sexual drive is perhaps the most difficult for us to control. Also the more it is used, the harder it is to bring the drive under control. The Midrash teaches that the evil inclination is at first like a spider web, and later like a heavy rope. (Genesis Rabbah 22:6)
The sexual drive out of control can bring on some of our most serious social problems. Family breakdown, sexually transmitted diseases, teenage pregnancy, high rates of abortion, are all the fruits of the sexual drive unleashed.
Like our other appetites, Jewish tradition does not see the sexual drive as inherently evil. On the contrary, sex in the right circumstances, with the right partner, with the right attitude, is a mitzvah, something God wants us to do. In fact it is not only good but holy. Judaism always saw a lifetime of celibacy as sad and a healthy sexual life as important for human well-being. The problem is when the sexual drive is out of control.
Pinchas acted when the Israelites, tempted by the Midianites, forgot about the sexual morality which was central to the Torah=s vision. Today many of us who care deeply about society also see sex out of control. We see it in the lyrics of popular music, the mandatory sex scenes in popular movies, the behavior of top athletes and other celebrities, and even the racy television shows during family viewing time. We see the sexual drive out of control in coed dorms and bathrooms in colleges (remember the lawsuit brought by Orthodox students against Yale because of the dormitory rules), and the casual availability of condoms in high schools.
Once again, we repeat the teaching of Ben Zoma - "Who is strong? Whoever controls their appetite." Nowhere is this more important than our sexual appetite.
PARSHAT PINCHAS
(5760)
WHY PINCHAS?
"Say therefore, that I grant him [Pinchas] my covenant of peace."
(Numbers 25:12)
This portion is named after Pinchas, the grandson of Aaron the High Priest. Pinchas was offered a brit shalom, a special covenant of peace, something God did not do for anyone else. What did Pinchas do to deserve such a high honor? He killed two people in a fit of rage and zealousy.
So who were these two people? Their names were Zimri the son of Salu, an Israelite man, and Cozbi the daughter of Zur, a Midianite woman. They must have been doing something pretty terrible that their death would be awarded so greatly. The answer is that they were having sex. Now Judaism certainly forbids sex in certain situations. But the death penalty! There has to be something more going on here.
In order to understand this strange reward given to Pinchas, we have to understand what the Torah was trying to accomplish. One of the central themes of the Bible is controlling the sexual urge, and using it to build families. The Torah was given into a world where random male sexuality was the norm, women were often marginalized, and children held no intrinsic value. In the pagan world, the sexual drive was out of control.
Into this world of random male sexuality, marginalized female roles, and a lack of intrinsic worth for children, the Torah taught a radically different vision for men, women, and children. Families were to be central. Random sexuality and sacred prostitution were wrong. Men and women were created equal in the image of God. Men were expected to marry, support their wives, and legitimate the children they sire. Procreation was a commandment. Parents were to be honored and siblings were to be guarded. Every child was to be cherished as a blessing from God, while child sacrifice was an abomination. Children were the essential bearers of God's covenant to a new generation. The Torah's vision of the family ideal shined forth like a beacon of light into the cruel pagan world.
For forty years of wandering in the wilderness, the Israelites were somehow able to maintain this family ideal. In fact, according to the Midrash (Rabbinic legends), one reason the Israelites were redeemed from Egypt was that they maintained their sexual purity even during the years of slavery. (Leviticus Rabbah 32:5)
Now as they were about to enter the holy land after forty years of wandering, the Midianites brought the biggest challenge to Israel's faith. They unleashed the sexual drive. They came forth and met Israel not with weapons, but with what can only be considered by moderns as an orgy. And the ring leaders were Zimri the son of Salu and Cozbi the daughter of Zur.
We can begin to understand the reward given to Pinchas. We were dealing with fundamental values of the new Israelite faith. Would pagan sexual practices, or the sexual discipline the Torah requires prevail? The Midianites sought to unleash the sexual drive which has been disciplined by the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai. Wild and random sex threatened the Torah's image of a stable family life. A man's sexual drive must be disciplined and directed toward his wife. The pagan fertility cults of the ancient Midianites must be fought without compromise. Pinchas took strong action and was rewarded.
Nobody likes zealots like Pinchas today. However, the message of the portion is still clear. The sexual revolution begun in the sixties unleashed the sexual drive. Recent surveys have shown that college students are far more interested in casual sexual encounters than in either love, long term relationships, or marriage. Sex stopped being a way of building families, and became a form of recreation. With the Playboy philosophy and our hedonistic, feel good culture, we moved a step closer to the pagan world which the Midianites represented.
Perhaps parshat Pinchas is the perfect time to remind us of the fundamental message of the Torah, "therefore a man shall leave his mother and father and cleave unto his wife." A man is to direct his sexuality towards his wife, a woman towards her husband. They are to live a life of love, loyalty, and fidelity, and raise children imbued with these same values. That was the Torah's message in Pinchas' time. And it is still the Torah's message today.