local Torah Gems-Parshat Chukat-Balak
Jan Salzman
While the story of Balak is fun to comment upon, with its talking donkey and all, this week's double Torah portion includes the parasha of Chukat, in which includes mitzvot that make no sense at all. To take on a spiritual practice and not have a rational basis for that practice pounds at our modern minds' doors with an urgency, undermining insights possible when entering mystery.
Know that most of the mitzvot can be understood, such as 'pay your workers on time because they rely on the wages' (Deut. 24:15) or 'don't harvest the corners of your field so that the poor might glean'. (Lev. 23:22). These are rules that help us to establish justice in society, and help us to do the 'right thing' when it comes to how to treat each other, including the laws about how to treat the land itself. As far back as Hellenistic times, it was argued that the mitzvot were a means towards an end, whether that might be to produce a virtuous people (writes Philo of Alexandria) or to exercise our philosophical minds that are a path to prophecy (writes Maimonides).
Yet the Torah also asks of us mitzvot that are not rational: keeping kosher, the red heifer in this week's Torah portion, the prohibition of wearing of clothing made from wool and flax, the scapegoat that is sent out to Azezel on Yom Kippur and even the entire system of animal and herbal offerings. These mitzvot are named Chukkot, and ask of us a different kind of honoring, that of emphasizing and strengthening the spirit rather than only distilling the mitzvot into a collection of rationally based behavior.
The scholar Daniel Matt cites the medieval Kabbalist, Isaac the Blind, in his commentary on Sefer Yitzerah who uses this verse from Psalm 119:96, I have seen an end to every purpose, but Your mitzvah is very broad, to comment: "Although Your mitzvot seems finite at first, they expands to infinity...and can never be completely comprehended."
In other words, the mystics in the Jewish tradition approach mitzvot as a way to specifically NOT understand but as a path towards the sweet state of NOT knowing, of engaging becauseit is unknowable. And it is this perspective that confronts us as the inheritors of the rational, the understandable, the provable.
Imagine the delight of a child who does something for the simple joy of engagement and not for any purpose. It is this state of mind that our tradition invites us into: to be in the moment of creativity without purpose, to be in the act of mitzvot for the joy that it brings, indicating that we are in deep connection with a flow that has no dimensions in space or time.
This is especially applicable when we honor Shabbat, one of the great paradigms that Judaism has gifted the world. We can approach this mitzva as rational, yes (we all need breaks!) but its deeper impact is gleaned when we are able to suspend the aspects of space and time and be in alignment with the flow of creation. "One approaches the divine by imitation" writes Matt, and to give ourselves the chance to dwell in the non-rational is what is perhaps the most nourishing about the chukot.
So, notice when your rational mind rebels at mystery, or at developing a spiritual practice, and ask it to leave the room for a while. And then create your chances to swim in the cool waters of mystery.
--- Rabbi Jan
Rabbi Seth Riemer- Congregation Beth El
Parashat Balak / פָּרָשַׁת בָּלָק
Numbers 22:2-25:9
Summary: Balak tells the story of the Moabite king Balak, who hires Balaam to curse the Israelites. Balaam’s donkey speaks along the way, and Balaam ends up blessing the Israelites. The portion ends with a story about Israelite men sinning with Moabite women and the stabbing of an Israelite and a Midianite. (Hebcal)
D'var Torah: Parashat Balak
Rabbi Seth Riemer
For reasons relating to Israel-Diaspora calendrical differences, the Torah portion Hukkat was read last week in Israel but is customarily combined with Balak in the Diaspora. This Shabbat we’ll follow the Diaspora custom and read from Hukkat, which Rabbi Michael Cohen discussed in his column for last week’s newsletter. Here’s a summary of Balak…
It is one of the few Torah portions involving a full-on fairy tale – complete with sorcerer, invisible angel, talking animal, and wicked king.
On their journey from Egypt to Canaan, God’s people cross into the land of Moav, whose king, Balak, feels threatened by this horde of Israelite trespassers and tries to bribe the soothsayer Bilaam to curse them. Bilaam, a powerful magician who fears God, refuses the offer but seems tempted by a promise of fabulous wealth in exchange for doing Balak’s bidding. God grudgingly permits Bilaam to travel to meet with the king and his Midianite allies but warns Bilaam not to dare curse Israel, which is after all a nation blessed by God. Mounting his donkey, Bilaam follows Balak’s ambassadors. The donkey sees what Bilaam can’t see: an angel of God, sword drawn in hand, blocking their path. Bilaam, failing to understand why the donkey won’t budge, impatiently and viciously beats her. She opens her mouth, explains the situation and complains of his abuse. The angel – suddenly appearing to Bilaam – rebukes him for having abused his poor donkey and points out that her prudent intervention alone saved his life. Duly admonished, the sorcerer proceeds on his journey, meets Balak and, to the king’s consternation, instead of cursing the Israelites, blesses them.
