Vayikra Cycle 7 Behar

Behar

For the Love of Israel

Rashi has an interesting commentary on Behar and I think it needs some examination. I will get to that soon.  It has to do with line 25:18.

Most of this line in Torah reads pretty par for the course. It’s what we might expect:

You will perform my statutes, keep my ordinances and perform them; Then you will live on the land securely.

We often are entreated to uphold the chukot and the mishpatim.  Rashi seems to want to explain this extra word: securely.

Before looking at Rashi though let’s ask ourselves:  If we don’t observe and behave as God has ordained will we live on the land without security? This is one way we can look at it. 

 After all, security seems to be more of a dream these days. In Israel…where I am presently studying…there is a constant reminder of the lack thereof. It’s sad.  I guess we need to ask ourselves if we are really keeping up with the ordinances as described.

This is what I have observed:

 At a high school memorial service on Yom HaZicheron (a beautiful ceremony) I could easily find my friends from the yeshiva. They were some of the few wearing kippas in the crowd of easily three hundred.  The point here is that the kippa is a sign of attention to God. I’m not blaming anyone for not wearing one. But if we recognize it as a reflection of Jewish observance…then there was a lack of observation at this ceremony despite its beauty.  One might say that remembering the dead is a mitzvah…and it is. We must have compassion and recognize the community and the communal sufferings.  But if we identify ourselves by that mitzvah alone (even given our many tragedies) well we are creating an insecure construct (according to Torah). I really feel the pain experienced by my people throughout time. I repeat though because it is such a hard lesson: This recognition of communal pain is not the only mitzvah  (despite the intensity and the sadness).  Judaism is certainly defined by the identification with tragedy and communal remembrance....but there are many levels here and not one level stands alone.  

To continue, we all know and honor the sacred buildings and land…the temples of Jerusalem,  the churches, the mosques. However,  the build-up of trash on the streets  creates false monuments wherever we look. A teacher commented that at least there’s a lowest common trash denominator. It’s always at the same level. More happens. More gets collected.  When I was jogging in Gan Sacher the other day a pre-teen  peeled the paper off of a Popsicle and then…while her parents were watching….smiled and threw the paper on the grass. And that was that.  No one said anything. I ran by not wanting to force my west coast ways on (seemingly) very observant Jews.  They wouldn’t have been west coast ways though come to think of it. They would have been God’s ways and  I was supposedly acting God-less by running. I am (lest we forget) a woman.

 One woman said this to me today…we here in Israel are religious even if we don’t seem that way. The land does it to us. The land has a spiritual energy and we simply become closer to God by being here.  She is a doctor, a Chabad devotee with ten children. She was inferring, quite confidently, that secular Jews in Israel because of their being in Israel are even more dati then Conservative or Reform dati Jews outside of Israel.

 This can be a great way to look at things. If people feel holy (despite claims of being secular) perhaps they will act with compassion and kindness simply because they are on sacred land. If people feel religious (and have claims of being religious) perhaps they as well will act with compassion and kindness. It often doesn’t work that way though. The problem arises when one believes that the land will do it for us,  that our human presence on the land will instill in us the right behavior immediately and automatically and we are (therefore) off the hook to a certain degree in our reach for God.  There are self-claimed off-the-hook Jews everywhere in the world but those in Israel sometimes seem to feel they get more bang for the buck.  And while they certainly do (the land is powerful) the using of it (as a crutch, an excuse or as a garbage can) only creates a greater and greater lack of security. This is actually what this one line in Behar is about. 

 

And of course, such an attitude spills over into every segment of reality, certainly the political reality.  The lack of government support for certain Jewish…yes, Jewish…. organizations says it all. 

On the bright side, yesterday I went with fellow students (male and female) to the wall to pray. There’s a place available for egalitarian prayer. I like going to the wall.  I actually go there…to the women’s section …about three times a week. I wasn’t considering what it would be like to pray there with men.  When I got there though I suddenly realized that I was standing at the wall and to my left was a fellow male rabbinic student. It was an amazing realization.  I was comfortable.  Not because I was acting like a man...I was acting like a woman actually.... but because through this obligated action (unmentioned, unaccented, obvious, real)  there was a heightened intimacy to Hashem. The intimacy was heightened because of the acceptance of balance and oneness.  Supported by a recent growth-spurt  in the Conservative movement I didn’t need to take on a (sometimes) strained sensitivity and subjugation to  the  religious male, nor avoid inner- anger and vehement reactions to the lack of respect for my personal (feminine) connection to God.  That moment of prayer at the wall felt like home.

  

I would say therefore that the land is not secure here. Clearly not secure. But partly because of strong actions on the part of many Jewish organizations (in and outside of the land) it is becoming more secure.

Now let’s see what Rashi says.

He says that it is through the transgression of the laws of Shemmitah that the Israelites are exiled from their land.

We all transgress. This exile though (I believe) is not only based on the physical land itself. There’s an exile of self and soul, an exile of acceptance and faith, an exile of God even within His Holy land, an exile of  pieces and parts within one’s self, within God’s self, and within both a memorial service and a public park. There’s an exile of our very land, of our very women, of  our very men, of dati, of those who are not dati, and...certainly...of the mitzvoth  themselves.

My guess is that something as seemingly small as men praying with women at the wall can and will one day open the doors to the future security of Jews everywhere. It’s all about (after all)  honoring the Shemmitah….a tough beutiful and  necessary obligation for all of Israel, those in exile and those at home.