ספרי תנ״ך BOOKS OF THE BIBLE SHAVUOT LEARNING GUIDE FCI FORT DIX 2018 - 5778
תורה TORAH - FIVE BOOKS OF MOSES
BREISHIT -בראשית- GENESIS The Book of Genesis outlines the history of both the creation of the world and mankind and the creation of the Jewish People. Beginning with the narrative of the Creation Story and Noah and the Ark, it also includes God’s covenant with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob promising that He will make them into a great nation. The Book ends with the sons of Jacob settling in Egypt, beginning the slavery period, which ultimately leads to the Exodus and the creation of the Jewish People as a nation. After each day of creation, God looks at His work and explains that what He created is “good” (tov). The word “good” is missing after the second day of creation (sky and firmament) and after the 6th day, when Hashem creates mankind. Why is “good” not used for these two creations? According to Rabbi Chanoch Waxman, the reason God does not note the goodness of the sky and the firmament is because they are incomplete forms of the world’s landscape. God gives boundaries to the sky and water, but only on the third day, when the land is created, do sea, sky and land end up in their final and perfect place. What does this teach us about the fact that Hashem does not refer to man as “good”? Humans were put on the earth with missions, goals and potential. While God fashioned nature in a “perfect” state, men and women have to work hard in order to achieve the potential that God set out for us. What is unique about mankind is that we are given the opportunity to partner with God to work towards the best version of ourselves!
SHEMOT -שמות- EXODUS The Book of Exodus contains some of the most famous biblical episodes. The previous book of Genesis ends with the forefather, Jacob, and his family joining his son, Joseph, in Egypt. Joseph has become the second most powerful man in Egypt, and the most powerful man, Pharaoh, welcomes his family. However, after Joseph dies the book of Exodus begins on a heavy note. In Egypt, a new Pharaoh comes to power and enslaves the Jews, forcing them into hard labor building Egyptian cities. After 400 years of enslavement the Jewish people cry out to God, who hears their cry and appears to Moses in the form of a burning bush. Moses, the son of Jews but raised in the house of Pharaoh as a Prince of Egypt, had away after killing an Egyptian slave-master in order to protect a Jewish victim. At the time God appeared to Moses, Moses was a simple shepherd working for his father-in-law in exile. God commands Moses to return to Egypt, to the house of his youth and, along with his brother Aaron, order Pharaoh to release the Jews from slavery. Pharaoh scoffs at the brothers’ demand and intensifies his mistreatment of the Jewish slaves. God then unleashes ten plagues upon the Egyptians: blood, frogs, lice, wild animals, disease among the livestock, boils, hail, locusts, darkness, and finally the death of all Egyptian firstborn sons. Upon the last plague, Pharaoh frantically releases the Jews from bondage. The Jews reach the Red Sea on their way out of Egypt, but then Pharaoh changes his mind and pursues them with an army of armored chariots. God, however, performs a miracle and splits the Red Sea, allowing the Jews to pass through. When the Egyptians attempt to cross as well, God brings the water crashing down on them, destroying the army. Thus were the Jews brought out of Egypt by the hand of God. This does not mark the end of the book – indeed the Jews go on to receive the Torah at Mt. Sinai, rebel against God by building an idol, repent, and wander the desert for forty years. It’s chock full of narrative and meaning. But for now, let’s focus on the first part… 1
A Question For Discussion: There’s a fascinating allegory, written by biblical sages thousands of years ago, that explores how the Jews could possibly have maintained their distinct identity as God’s people over the course of 400 years of enslavement. How did they avoid assimilating? In answer, the allegory suggests that Jews maintained three distinct traits that they did not change over the course of centuries: they wore distinct Jewish clothes, spoke a distinct language (Hebrew), and used Jewish names. Through this resistance to assimilation, they managed to stay different and unique, and thus special to God. However, there’s also another allegory that offers a different message. At the end of Genesis, when Joseph invites his brothers and father (Jacob) to live in Egypt - so full of promise then - he offers his youngest brother, Benjamin, seven changes of Egyptian clothes. The allegory wonders why the number of changes matters enough to mention. What is significant about seven changes of clothes? In answer, the allegory draws a comparison between the seven changes of clothes offered by Joseph and the seven changes of clothes worn by Mordechai in the story of Esther, which took place over a thousand years later. In this historical episode, Mordechai, a wise Jew in Persia, becomes the head advisor to the King, making him the second most powerful man in the realm. As a sign of his new status and acceptance into the Persian court, he wears seven kingly garments. This begins an era of great prosperity, happiness, and renewed devotion to God. By comparing the Egyptian garments that Joseph gave to his brother and the Persian garments worn by Mordechai, the allegory is offering a praise for becoming more involved in broader society – that in this case it was a good thing that Jews were joining Egyptian society. This, though, is a direct contradiction to the other allegory – that the Jews merited redemption from slavery in Egypt after four hundred years only because they kept a distinct identity! Now, it is normal for religious allegories to have facts or suggestions that are in tension with one another – they serve to teach and illustrate powerful lessons. What lessons might we draw from the tension here – that in one case joining broader society is portrayed as good – and in the other, separation and distinctness are praised? What cases might these apply to? What rules might the creators of the allegory use to identify them?
VAYIKRA -ויקרא- LEVITICUS The Book of Vayikra is the third book of the Five Books of Moses. The entire book takes place over the course of one month, in between the Revelation at Sinai and the Israelites’ departure into the Wilderness towards the Promised Land. Its subject matter is typically thought to be rather archaic. It begins by detailing the sacrificial rituals and regulations, continues by prescribing the role of the priests, and then proceeds to establish the laws of purity and impurity as they apply both in the life of the community, and in the Temple in particular. It also establishes various rules relating to blood, a substance that was of course in ubiquitous supply in and around the Temple’s environs. It is likely for this reason that most contemporary readers are intimidated by Vayikra. With its overwhelming focus on holiness and sanctity, how out of step Vayikra seems with rationalistic, post-Enlightenment mores, to say nothing of 20th century American libertinism! But little noticed by moderns is the subsequent turn in the substantive thrust of Vayikra. For after treating the subject of blood, Vayikra moves to rules that structure society in general. In Vayikra 19 we find God’s explicit command to the Israelites to “be holy” (19.2), but this is followed not by further instructions concerning Temple worship, but by commands like “honor your mother and father” (19.3), “do not steal” (19.11), “do not swear falsely” (19.12), “love thy neighbor as thyself” (19.18), as well as laws mandating charity to the poor (19.9-10). What do these regulations have to do with holiness, the central theme of Vayikra? The answer lies in appreciating the Torah’s central contribution to the store of human knowledge, namely, law and holiness. Now, ancient Israelite society is not the first nor only society to promote and regulate holiness. And it is certainly not the only society to make law. But consider holiness and law in isolation from each other for a moment. Law encourages human interaction by structuring social relationships. All great legal societies, from the Israelites to the Babylonians, from the Greek and Roman jurists, to the English common law judges, have known that humans are best able to cooperate with each other when their interactions are predictable. 2
Peter is far more likely to render services to Paul if he is confident that Paul will pay him for those services. And Mary is far more likely to marry Paul if she feels assured that Paul will care and provide for her. Law’s purpose is to ensure that Paul fulfills his obligations to Peter and Mary, and that in turn Peter and Mary will keep faith with Paul. Out of this sense of predictability, society is born. Law, in other words, is all about bringing people together. Holiness by contrast is all about keeping things separate. The priests in all ancient Near Eastern cultures were kept separate from the rest of the populace. Temples were places where only a select few were allowed to tread. Holy things - like sacrificial animals - needed to be kept separate from other animals. And were holy material ever to come into contact with non-holy material, it would become profaned, and thus unsuitable for use in the Temple. Holiness, in other words, promotes separation. It is for this reason that in all ancient cultures, law and holiness were kept separate. Whether for the Assyrians or the Athenians, it was the gods who taught the rules of holiness, but it was humans - whether the king, or a Senate, or what have you - who made the laws. The ancients believed - like so many moderns - that law and holiness are incompatible. The only exception to this historical rule is the Hebrew Bible. The Hebrew Bible is bookended by narratives and a recounting of those narratives; by the Exodus from Egypt, and the preparation to enter the Land of Israel. But at the very conceptual and literal center of the Torah are two ideas: mishpat and kedushah, or the laws that structure society, and the rituals that keep everything in its place. The Torah is the only source in human history for the notion that not only can law and holiness coexist, they in fact complement each other. For example, one of the laws articulated by the Torah is, in fact, “be holy,” and many of the tenets of holiness are social regulations, or “laws.” The lesson that God wished to impart to us through this intertwining of mishpat and kedushah is that society is not harmed by the presence of God, nor is God threatened by the accomplishments of humans. On the contrary, the Jewish mission is to elevate society by bringing God into it. And in turn, it is no less than God’s will for humanity to build a society that is prosperous, thriving, just and kind. Not only are these goals not in tension, but - as Vayikra teaches us - they are necessary one for the other.
BAMIDBAR -במדבר- NUMBERS The Book of Numbers, or Bamidbar, is the fourth book of the Bible. Numbers begins at Mount Sinai, where the Israelites receive the Torah and then build a temporary Temple. The task before them is to take possession of the Promised Land, but the Israelites go through many rebellions, trials and tribulations throughout their wanderings in the desert. The nation’s subsequent wandering for 40 years in the desert was a punishment for the sin of speaking ill about the Land of Israel, but was also meant to prepare the Jewish People for an independent and autonomous life in the Land. Numbers is the culmination of the story of Israel's Exodus from oppression in Egypt and their journey to take possession of the land God promised their fathers. In describing the giving of the Torah in the Book of Numbers, the text states specifically that the Torah was given in the desert. Why does the Bible specify the general location where the Torah was given, but does not provide enough detail for the reader to know exactly where this momentous event took place? The commentators suggest that the Torah was given in the desert because, usually, deserts are not owned by anyone. They are largely desolate and uninhabitable, and anyone can wander in to explore. The Torah is like a desert - it is open to anyone who ventures in. No one person can claim ownership of the Torah - it belongs to everyone. Rav Stav suggests that this explanation – “that the Torah was given in a place over which no specific group could claim ownership – has a natural continuation: in the laws of the desert, the guiding principle is that there is, indeed, no formal ownership of the desert, but there are those who enjoy an advantage and exert greater influence. Those who physically wander the desert, tread through its dried-out riverbeds, climb its cliffs and clamber down its slopes have, in practice, become the lords of the desert. The desert may be no man’s land, but it can be bought with blood, sweat and tears.” Proof of this is the State of Israel. Once a desolate desert land, Israel has been built into a modern state. If one works hard he can make the desert his own. 3
DEVARIM -דברים- DEUTERONOMY Devarim, the fifth and final book of the Torah, reviews the laws given to the Jewish people by God in the previous four books of the Torah. The laws are given over by Moses before the Jews enter Israel. In one of the Torah portions in the Book of Devarim, Nitzavim, God warns the Jews of the exile that will come when they transgress God’s commands and leave His ways. He then describes the repentance of the Jewish people and how they will eventually return to the land of Israel. After the parasha describes the terms of the covenant, it says: “And it shall be that when he will hear the words of this curse he will bless himself in his heart saying: I shall have peace though I walk in the stubbornness of my heart… and the Lord will not want to forgive him.” (Deuteronomy 29:18-19) What, asked Rabbi Norman Lamm in a sermon from September, 1971, is the meaning of the phrase “Vehitbarech bi’levavo:, “he will bless himself in his heart”? To answer this question he quotes the Targum Yonatan ben Uziel, who translates the phrase to mean “he will despair in his heart.” Disobedience occurs when one does not feel capable of overcoming the inclination to sin. One who does not see himself as strong willed enough, as moral enough, as smart enough, to achieve greatness, will never succeed. It is, in essence, a self-fulfilling prophecy. If one is convinced that his evil inclination is too strong, will never try to overcome it. Rabbi Lamm used the following example to beautifully illustrate the message of the verse: “This week there took place a tragedy in the State of New York. I refer to the rioting in the Attica prison and the massacre that followed in its wake... What I refer to, more generally and perhaps more pertinently, is the general background of this riot. What kind of society is it that creates “correctional” facilities for prisoners that are so dreadful, that the prisoners will prefer to risk death in attempting a riot rather than to continue under such conditions? Such violence -- with the exception of the work of revolutionaries — issues only from despair and hopelessness,. No wonder that in the American “Wild West" criminals were referred to as “desperadoes” -literally, men who have despaired, given up hope. I sometimes wonder at those who consider the Talmudic method of punishment -- flogging -- as a “cruel and inhumane punishment." Is it, perhaps, better to give a man his punishment forthwith, humiliating and physically punitive though it be, rather than rob him of 10 or 20 years of his life, in which instead of being "corrected" he is hardened in his criminal behavior and attitudes by confining him in a criminal and desperate milieu? Let us always remember that these men, despite the color of their skin, despite their hardened attitude, are still human beings created in the Image of God. As such, they are as fully deserving of our compassion and elemental human respect as is every other human being. Let us not forget that the Talmud, in tractate Sanhedrin, has told us that the commandment “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," refers to criminals condemned to execution!” Each and every individual has the strength and inner fortitude to overcome despair, says Rabbi Lamm. Our hope is that we have the power to choose a self-fulfilling prophecy of hope rather than hopelessness- no matter our circumstances.
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נביאים NEVI’IM - PROPHETS
YEHOSHUA -יהושע- JOSHUA In the Book of Joshua the leadership of the Jewish People is transferred from Moses to Joshua, who leads the People into the Land of Israel and conquers it, thus fulfilling the promise of God to the forefathers that their descendants would inherit the land. According to the sages, the first section of the prayer of Alenu, which is recited at the end of the prayer service, was written by Joshua, and the second section was written by Achan. The prayer of Alenu was written by Joshua at the time when the Jewish People were fulfilling their destiny. While in the desert the Jewish People fulfilled parts of their destiny by receiving the Torah and setting up a Temple, but their entrance into the Land of Israel was the final step in their national destiny in that time. “When the Jewish People triumphantly entered the Land of Israel, fresh off miraculous victories such as the one in Jericho, the entire world was aroused by what had occurred to God’s People.” The entire world was in awe and inspired by the power of God. It is under these circumstances that Joshua composed the Alenu prayer, extolling God’s greatness, and “thanking Him for for the fact that his people had merited salvation.” Achan was responsible for the ruinous delay of the fulfillment of the Jewish People’s destiny. After the defeat of Jericho the Jewish People were forbidden from taking any spoils of war. Achan disobeys, and as a punishment God does not allow the Jewish People to be victorious in their next battle against Ai. After God tells Joshua that Achan was the reason for the Jewish People’s defeat, Joshua condemns Achan to execution. Although Ai was later dealt an everlasting blow, the nations of the world were then left with the impression that this God was like any other god - sometimes He can help His people win and sometimes He cannot. The impression that God had left on people’s minds throughout the miraculous Exodus from Egypt was now tainted. This was a huge desecration of God’s name, a “Chilul Hashem.” This is why Achan composed the prayer of “Al Ken Nekaveh.” After repenting he realized the damage he had done to God’s name. He longed for God’s name to be restored, and “for all humanity to call upon Your name!” The prayer of Al Ken Nekaveh is a reminder to us that the Jewish People have the awesome responsibility and power to improve or ruin God’s reputation in the world. The actions of God’s People - our behavior, the words we use, the causes we fight for, all ultimately reflect on God. Our purpose as a People is to consecrate God’s name, or create a “Kiddush Hashem” and bring the all-powerful way of God back into the forefront of the world’s discourse. Adapted from Thoughts on Rosh Hashana by Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl.
SHOFTIM -שופטים- JUDGES Sefer Shoftim recounts the unstable times of the Judges, during which there is deterioration of the spiritual state of the Jewish people. During this time, there was a destructive cycle, in which the Jews would stray from the path of God, God would then allow the Jews’ enemies to overcome them, the Jews would cry out to God and He would send a Judge to redeem the people. This cycle of events occurs over and over again throughout the Book of Judges. Towards the end of the book, though, there is a shift. The story is told of a Jewish man who was travelling home from Bethlehem with his concubine. On the journey home, they stopped to rest in an old man’s home in Givah, part of the territory of the tribe of Benjamin. 5
The men of Benjamin were a depraved group and demanded that the old man send out the visiting man from the house so that they could do to him what they pleased. Instead, the man sent out the concubine, who the men raped all night long. In the morning she collapsed on the threshold of the old man’s home and died. The man took her home with him and cut her up into 12 pieces, sending pieces of her to each tribe of Israel. This gruesome and disgusting story was a turning point in the narrative of the Jewish people. Immediately following this story, the Jews, for the first time begin going to war against each other. The tribes of Israel went to war against the tribe of Benjamin, each killing tens of thousands of Jews on the other side. And this time, when the war ensued, no Judge was sent by God to save the Jewish people from their turmoil. This was not worshipping foreign idols, or fighting with idol worshippers, this was Jews killing fellow Jews! This time, the Jews had gone too far, their violence and depravity leading to the brutal murder of a poor woman, and the mass violence against their own brothers, their own fellow Jews. The Jewish people at this point are no longer deserving of salvation by God. The Jews were selected by God as His “chosen nation” for the very purpose of being a light unto the nations, in order to show the world what a moral and just society can look like. Our job is to show what beauty can ensue from unity and mutual understanding, from good deeds and kindness to one another. Once the Jews in Judges show that they lack these very ideals, that they they have no moral compass, no unity- that they are longer role models for their fellow human beings- they lose the privilege to be saved by God.
SHMUEL -שמואל- SAMUEL The Book of Samuel is the third book of the Early Prophets. It was originally compiled as one book, but the later Greek translation divided it into two. Together, they provide a narration of events in Israel from the concluding days of the period of the Judges—Samuel being considered the last of them—through the reigns of the first two kings, Saul and David, and up to the beginning of King David’s old age. Each of the Books of the Prophets has a prophetic agenda, a goal that the prophet who authored the book was trying to accomplish through his writings. After all, the job of the biblical prophet was not to predict the future (although they could and sometimes did do so), but to shape the future of the Israelite nation by guiding the people in the ways of God. So, what was the agenda of the Book of Samuel? In order to answer this question, we need to look at the events that were taking place when the Book of Samuel was compiled. It was the first Temple period. King Solomon, David’s son and heir, had died and was succeeded by his own son, Rehoboam. A rival, Jeroboam, created his own Kingdom in the north of the land and so the nation was split into Northern and Southern Kingdoms, and a civil war ensued. We can imagine that in order to delegitimize the Davidic dynasty of the South, and establish their own moral claim to kingship, the kings of the North were spreading slander about King David. It may not have been hard to do. After all, David’s anointment as king to replace Saul had been performed by Samuel in secret, not publicly for all to see. And King David was flawed. He had sinned on multiple occasions. Yet God had promised that David’s dynasty would be eternal and that the Messiah would ultimately come from his lineage. Why did God choose David? God understood that if He wants a nation that can fulfill its mission of changing the world for the better by sanctifying His name, then that nation must be powerful enough to be an actor on the world stage while also remaining true to the will of God. Such a nation must have a leader who could project strength to the world and, at the same time, draw the people closer to God. God found such a leader in David. Here was a man who created a mighty empire, respected by the world. And, although he had sinned (for which man has not?), he was completely God-centered. He attributed everything in his life to God, both the good and the bad. This is clear from the Book of Psalms, which David authored. For every battle he won, he thanked God. When in trouble, 6
he turned to God. When he sinned, he begged forgiveness from God. He even praised God for the simple beauty of nature! It is no surprise, then, that David’s reign was defined by justice and righteousness towards all the people. This, then, was the ideal leader who could lead a God-centered nation that would change the world. And so, the Book of Samuel was compiled by the prophets to put to rest the rumors that David and his dynasty were not legitimate. To do so, it highlights those events which demonstrate to the Israelite people that God chose King David as the legitimate king of His people and that his dynasty would be eternal and would ultimately lead the people in Messianic times. It meticulously records God’s conversation with Samuel authorizing him to anoint a king. It establishes that Samuel, who anointed David, was a bona fide prophet who acted on God’s orders. It demonstrates why Saul, who was originally chosen by God, was ultimately “unchosen.” It unambiguously proves that God then chose David and never wavered in His support. “And David had great success in all his ways; and the LORD was with him.” Now fast forward three thousand years. The Jewish people have returned to the Land of Israel and have established the modern State of Israel, a powerful country with a strong economy and a respected military. A country that can impact the world. We Jews must now decide what that impact should be. We would do well to learn from God’s choice of King David how to merge power with fidelity to His will in order to model justice and righteousness for all the world and be a light unto the nations. Adapted from a lecture by Rabbi Menachem Leibtag.
MELACHIM -מלכים- KINGS The Book of Kings (Sefer Melachim), written by the prophet Jeremiah, records about 400 years of Jewish history. It details the reigns of 41 out of 44 kings of the Jewish people and the service of the prophets tasked with guiding them. The Book of Kings begins with the reign of King Solomon, a time of ultimate glory, unity and peace for Israel in which the Jewish Temple was built. The book then details the splitting of the nation into the Southern kingdom, which consisted of the tribe of Judah and Benjamin, and the Northern kingdom, which included the other 10 tribes. From that point on, political, social and religious turmoil ensues as in each kingdom, kings come and go in rapid succession. The kings range from the many evil leaders, who introduce idol worship and corruption into Jewish society, to the righteous leaders who desperately try to re-introduce Godliness into a society slowly descending into religious and moral depravity. By the book’s end, the Jewish Temple has tragically been destroyed and both the Southern and Northern kingdoms have been sent into exile. The Book of Kings, in essence, is a story about leadership and how it shapes the future of the nation. In fact, throughout the book, God comments on the different styles of leadership and either praises them, rejects them if antithetical to Jewish values, or tries to re-shape the way a leader looks at his role. Perhaps by analyzing God’s reaction to different styles of leadership, we can learn what qualities a leader should possess and how he should act toward his fellow man. Let us examine the first King in our book to begin his reign, King Solomon. Soon after Solomon is anointed, God appears to him in a dream and offers to grant him whatever he desires. Solomon acknowledges to God that he is but a child and so does not have the wisdom required to rule the nation. Solomon then makes his request: “Give your servant therefore an understanding heart to judge your people, that I may discern between good and evil; for who is able to judge your great people?” Pleased by Solomon’s request, God responds: “'Because you have asked for this, and have not asked for yourself a long life; neither riches for yourself, nor the life of your enemies; but have asked for yourself understanding to discern justice; behold, I have done according to your word: I have given you a wise and an understanding heart; so that there has been none like you before you, neither after you shall any arise like you. And I have also given you that which you have not asked, both riches and honor--so that there has not been any among the kings like you--all your days. And if you will walk in My ways, to keep My statutes and My commandments, as your father David did walk, then I will lengthen your days.” An ideal leader, as we learn from God’s reaction, should first and foremost have the best interests of his people at heart. While 7
Solomon also receives the gifts of wealth and a long life, this is only because he recognizes his primary commitment is to his people, to create for them a just and moral society. Later on in Kings, God adds an additional element; an effective leader uses kindness to guide his nation, not cruelty or harshness. This, time, however, God conveys his message through his prophet, Elijah. The job of the prophet was to guide the kings of Israel and the Jewish people to help create an ethical society and lead them back to such a society should they go astray. Elijah served in the Northern Kingdom during the reign of Achav. Achav and his wife Jezebel, an avid idol worshiper, spread idol worship throughout the kingdom so that it became entrenched in Jewish society. This was a time of both spiritual and moral decline. Elijah was enraged at the nation’s flagrant disregard for God’s commandments and is described in the text as a zealot on behalf of God. In fact, the first time the readers are introduced to Elijah, he declares that no rain or dew will fall in the land until he has determined that the Jewish people have repented. As years pass and famine ravages the land, Elijah refuses to bring back the rain, despite the fact that his harsh tactic has not worked and the people have not returned to God. After three years, God finally forces Elijah’s hand and tells him to bring the rain. Elijah, so angry at both the Jewish people and God for having mercy on the Jews who have yet to repent, turns to God and says, “'I have been very jealous for the LORD, the God of hosts; for the children of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, thrown down Your altars, and slain Your prophets with the sword; and I, even I only, am left; and they seek my life, to take it away.” After this outburst, God shows Elijah 4 visions. The first three include a fire, a strong wind, and an earthquake. The verse notes that God is not found in these first three destructive forces. The last vision, however, is a soft quiet murmuring voice, and it is evident that God is present in this soft voice. God’s message is clear; destruction and harshness will not inspire the nation to repent. Rather, the gentle whisper is where God is found, and it is through the urging of a quiet voice that the nation will return to God. And so, through God’s interactions with King Solomon and the prophet Elijah, the readers gets a sense of what the ideal leader is. He is someone who cares deeply for his people and wants to create a just and moral society infused with Godliness, and he recognizes that kindness will go a long way in bringing those gone astray closer to God.
YISHAYAHU -ישעיהו- ISAIAH The Book of Isaiah includes prophecies from Isaiah to the Jewish people, ranging from those that speak of harsh punishment and destruction to those that offer comfort and a peek at future redemption. After several chapters detailing the destruction and desolation that is to befall the Jewish people because they deserted God and His ways, we arrive at Chapter 40 in Isaiah. The Chapter opens with the famous words “Nachamu nachamu ami,”- “Be comforted, be comforted, my nation.” “Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,” says God, “for her iniquity is over.” God tells the Jewish people that they should be comforted for their punishment will end. The rest of the chapter then goes on to discuss the power and greatness of God - His vastness and eternal nature. Why does the chapter continue this way? How is God’s power a nechama, a comfort, for Zion? After all of the death, destruction, and poverty, it seems that the prophecy extolling God’s greatness is out of place. How are the two connected? Verses 13-15 can help answer the question of how God’s strength can serve as comfort for the Jewish People. “Who has plumbed the mind of the LORD, What man could tell Him His plan? Whom did He consult, and who taught Him, Guided Him in the way of right? Who guided Him in knowledge and showed Him the path of wisdom? The nations are but a drop in a bucket, reckoned as dust on a balance; The very coastlands He lifts like motes.” 8
The Jewish people, says the Prophet, should never forget who is really in charge. Throughout the punishment that the Jews will suffer, they may come to think that is their enemies who hold power over them, who will never be destroyed and who always seem to win. But the Navi comes to show that men who treat others with evil, who exploit people and make them suffer; those people are nothing compared to God, Who has a plan for everything. These evil men will be forgotten like dust in the wind, and they mean nothing in the grand scheme of the world. After the death of Ilan Ramon in the crash of the space shuttle Columbia, President George W. Bush delivered a beautiful eulogy in which he quoted a verse from our chapter in Isaiah, Chapter 40: “In the words of the prophet Isaiah, ‘Lift your eyes and look to the heavens. Who created all these? He who brings out the starry hosts one by one and calls them each by name. Because of His great power and mighty strength, not one of them is missing.’ The same Creator who names the stars also knows the names of the seven souls we mourn today. The crew of the shuttle Columbia did not return safely to Earth; yet we can pray that all are safely home.” God says to the Jewish people, look at the vast sky and see how powerful I am. I created this vastness and I know everything. And because of this, I know every single star. I don’t miss anything and I care for each individual person. Power and strength of nations is fleeting and temporary. I may have punished you and made you weak, but I haven’t forgotten you. Be comforted, that I know you, I remember you, I look out for you and that I am all powerful. And this lesson is eternal. Oftentimes when we suffer we get the impression that God has forgotten us, doesn’t think about us and isn’t involved. But just like God is so powerful that he knows each of the billions of individual stars, He knows us and doesn’t forget us, He records the injustices done to us by others, and He sees how we respond. We are comforted by the prophet’s assurance that individual goodness lives on far longer than any grand display of power or evil committed against us
YIRMIYAHU -ירמיהו- JEREMIAH The book of Yirmiyahu concerns the events of the late 7th-early 6th century BCE. To put the work in historical context, nearly the entire ancient world, of which Israel was a part, had been dominated for nearly two centuries by the Assyrian empire. But in the late 7th century, the Assyrian regime began to crumble, and the Neo-Babylonian empire would rise to challenge it. At the same time, the still-powerful Egyptian empire remained a significant player in the region as well. Caught between three large empires, the Jewish King Josiah (Yoshiyahu) saw an opportunity to push for greater Jewish independence. As the prophets of God warned, the time was not right for this effort, and predictably it failed miserably. Not several years later, the newly ascendant Babylonians would look vulnerable as well in the wake of having failed in a military campaign to conquer Egypt. The Jewish kings would once again take up arms, this time in rebellion against the Babylonians. And again, precisely as the prophets warned, this rebellion ended in catastrophe. The eventual result of these misadventures was the exile of a significant portion of the Judahite population to Babylonia - including the entire Jewish leadership - and the destruction of the Temple. It is this period - as well as its run-up and its aftermath - that the Book of Yirmiyahu seeks to explain. Like all Biblical prophets, Yirmiyahu’s task was not to predict the future - although he could and did - but rather 1) to set Jewish history, and world history as well, in theological context, and 2) show his people where they had gone wrong, and what they might do to improve. In this respect, the Book of Vayikra is essential for understanding Yirmiyahu. In particular, the Book of Vayikra is where God explains to His people that nationhood - indeed, their very residence in the Land of Israel - is not a right, but a privilege contingent on Jewish willingness to fulfill its mission to sanctify God’s Name in this world. As God warns in Vayikra, if the Jewish people do not keep their covenant with God, building the good and godly society that He commanded them to construct, then the Land will “vomit you out” (20.22). This is precisely what comes to pass, as Yirmiyahu explains, and it is the prophet’s unhappy task to narrate this process.
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But Yirmiyahu stressed that this was not the end of Jewish history. Yirmiyahu promised again and again that Jewish peoplehood would survive this test, be restored to their land, and rebuild the Temple to again sanctify God’s Name. Perhaps the most burning question that faced Yirmiyahu and the Jewish people, however, was who would re-establish Jewish history. Would it be those who had been thrown out of the Land by the Babylonians? Or would it be those who remained in the Land of Israel and escaped the wrath of the Babylonians? In chapter 24, Yirmiyahu addresses this question, explaining its deep resonance for the Jewish future. As the prophet tells it, he is shown a vision in which two baskets of figs are placed before him. One basket contains good, tasty figs, while the other contains figs that are rotten and rancid. As Yirmiyahu clarifies, “Like these good figs, so I will regard as good the exiles from Judah, whom I have sent away from this place to the land of the [Babylonians]” (24.4). In contrast, “Like the bad figs that are so bad they cannot be eaten, so will I treat King Zedekiah of Judah, his officials, the remnant of Jerusalem who remain in this land, and those who live in the land of Egypt” (24.8). For Yirmiyahu, only those who truly experienced the dark night of exile would be a part of Jewish history. While suffering is often incomprehensible, there is something about the experience of downtroddeness that is important for carrying out the Jewish mission. Perhaps it is that suffering is fortifying, or character building. Perhaps it is designed to bring out the austere, Protestant work ethic in us. But this seems too trivial to be the answer. More convincing is to see suffering within the larger context of the Biblical story. Remember, God already promised to Abraham that his children could not truly emerge into their world-altering role until they had suffered the affliction of Egyptian slavery. It is only after the Exodus that Jewish history really begins. Why is this? One has only to look at the legacy of Egyptian slavery in Biblical law to find the answer. God consistently commands the Jewish people to be more empathetic - to love the stranger, deal honestly with others, treat employees fairly - on the grounds that “you were strangers in the Land of Egypt.” Suffering is a sine qua non of the Jewish experience not because we are gluttons for punishment - we do not glorify suffering - but because we have a purpose to achieve: to bring the redemption by transforming this world for the better. In order to do that we must work with, and on behalf of all of humanity - we must have superhuman empathy for our fellow human beings. We must know that everything we do - even ensuring Jewish survival throughout the generations - in the end, we do not for ourselves, but for all of humankind as a whole. This is the lesson of the Exodus, and ultimately of Yirmiyahu and his good figs.
YEHEZKEL -יחזקאל- EZEKIEL The Book of Yehezkel is set over a period of approximately 22 years, from just before the first wave of exile imposed by the Babylonians to a decade and a half after the destruction of the Temple. The prophet narrates, from a first person perspective, the transition from Israel as a geographically homogeneous people, to Israel as a dispersed people. He was himself one of the exiles compelled to resettle in Babylonia, and as such is one of the only prophets ever to prophesize in that land. The overarching goal of Yehezkel’s book is to come to grips with the significance of exile for Jewish history. Although nowadays we can easily imagine the possibility of a robust Jewish identity outside the Land of Israel, once upon a time this was justly understood to be inconceivable. Anyone who read the five books of Moses could see that the entire point of Jewish history - from the Exodus to the Revelation at Sinai - was to bring the Jewish people to their homeland, in which they would build a society according to God’s wishes, and worship God in the only place God allowed, namely, the Temple. To propose a Judaism without Israel and the Temple would be like playing football in a swimming pool without a football. Yehezkel would therefore dedicate the bulk of his effort to articulating a Jewish identity within the context of exile, an endeavor that would prove essential for a people that would eventually spend nearly two millennia without a sovereign state in the Land of Israel, and that still does not have a Temple. But before Yehezkel could theorize the exile, he needed to confront a prior problem. That is, so unimaginable to his contemporaries 10
was the idea of a Temple-less Judaism that most Jews appeared to have convinced themselves that whatever else might happen, the Temple would never be destroyed. Even after the first failed rebellion against Babylonia in 596 BCE - during which Nebuchadnezzar, the Neo-Babylonian emperor, merely exiled the Jewish leadership and spared the Temple - the Jewish population continued to bury their heads in the sand. They assumed that notwithstanding the ongoing threat from Babylonia, the Temple would still somehow survive by hook or by crook. Yehezkel’s early prophecies respond to this willful blindness. Over the course of the first several chapters of Yehezkel, the prophet describes the Divine presence, and then narrates its departure from the Temple, then the city, then the land itself. Jerusalem, Yehezkel emphasized over and over, has been defiled, and God’s presence has left it. As the prophet proclaims, “Woe to the bloody city, the pot whose rust is in it, whose rust has not gone out of it!” (24.6). Why does Yehezkel go out of his way to illustrate Jerusalem’s defilement, and God’s abandonment of the Temple due to the Jews’ transgressions? If Yehezkel’s primary task is to theorize the exile, why doesn’t the book simply pick up from the post-Destruction period, or from whenever Yehezkel arrives in Babylonia? The answer is to highlight the danger when Jewish chosenness devolves into Jewish nationalism. Jewish chosenness is keyed to a mission. The Jewish people are selected by God to fulfill a purpose - their chosenness does not confer rights, it imposes responsibilities to God and the rest of humanity. Imagine all of the incredible good that the Jewish people can accomplish for the world when the Almighty’s presence is among them? But, as Yehezkel tells us, over the time the Jewish people forgot this. They began to take God’s presence in the Temple for granted. They saw it as a right, not a privilege. They began to imagine the Temple not as a call to action, but as a talisman of Jewish power - so much so that they could not imagine it ever being taken away. But in reality, as Yehezkel reminds us, the Temple can be contaminated. Jerusalem can be defiled. The Jewish people can falter in their mission. When they do, the proper response is repentance, and recommitment to the Jewish purpose. But in the waning days of the First Temple, the Jews instead reacted to God’s anger at their failure with a doubling down on the nationalistic significance of the Temple...as if chosenness somehow conferred physical invincibility upon the Jewish nation-state. Once you strip away from chosenness a higher mission and vision, then all you have left is nationalism. And as far as Yehezkel is concerned, this sort of national self-worship is no better than idolatry: “They shall repay you for your lewdness, and you shall bear the penalty for your sinful idolatry; and you shall know that I am the Lord God” (23.49). The lesson of the Book of Yehezkel, then, is to remember that chosenness - one of the most fundamental tenets in Judaism - is made meaningful by remembering our task as a people: to redeem the world by sanctifying God’s name in public through word and deed.
תרי עשר- TWELVE PROPHETS
TREI ASAR -
The “Twelve Minor Prophets,” known as “Trei Asar,”is the eighth and last “book” in the second section of the Hebrew Bible, the Nevi’im, or Prophets. It is, as its name implies, not a unified whole but a collection of 12 independent books, by (at least) 12 different prophets. “Minor” refers not to their importance but to their length. All were considered important enough to enter the Hebrew Bible, but none was long enough to form an independent book. One of these, Obadiah, is only a single chapter long, while the longest (Hosea and Zechariah) are each 14 chapters. The risk of seeing them lost if they were cast as twelve small individual books was too great, and so they were bound together in one large scroll. However, these are not prophets who were active during the same period. The Trei Asar prophets (Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi) span over 350 years – from the middle of the First Temple to the early years of the Second Temple. God had communicated to mankind through prophecy for nearly the entire biblical period beginning with Adam, the first human being. With Malachi, the last of the Twelve Prophets who lived some 2500 years ago, prophecy came to an end, not to be renewed until the messianic age. 11
In the absence of prophecy, how can the lines of communication between man and God remain open? The answer is Prayer. Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik understood prayer as replacing prophecy. Both are dialogues between man and God, involving a speaker and a listener. But they are mirror images of one another. In prophecy, God is the speaker and the prophet is the listener. In prayer, the roles are reversed and the person standing in prayer becomes the speaker while God is the listener. With the end of prophecy, the responsibility for maintaining a relationship with God would belong to man. Indeed, the concept of prayer was formally institutionalized in Judaism immediately after prophecy ceased. As Rabbi Soloveitchik notes, “If God had stopped calling man… let man call God!” We may no longer have prophets, but, by means of prayer, every one of us can now create our own fellowship with God.
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כתובים KETIVUM - WRITINGS
TEHILLIM -תהילים- PSALMS The Book of Psalms, written largely by King David, is comprised of 150 songs. The songs reflect the author’s emotions throughout various stages in life and teaches lessons about relating to God through both good times and bad. Psalms begins with the words, ”Happiness will come to those who refrain from evil deeds,” a simplistic view of how good is rewarded in this world. As the book progresses, the author lives through challenge after challenge. In some chapters the author lacks inspiration, crying and struggling. But despite all the hardship, in the final chapter of Psalms, there is a rediscovery of God and the renewal of a relationship with Him. The author realizes that God was with Him throughout his struggles. Throughout the hard times the author continued to seek out God, even when it was hard to believe. This leads to his ultimate praise of Hashem. Paul Ricoeur, a French philosopher, describes the concepts of the First Naivete and Second Naivete. The First Naivete is a simplistic belief in God, in which God’s presence is obvious and life is great. However, then man lives life and experiences hardships and challenges. He realizes that life is not simple. Through struggle the Second Naivete emerges, a new, mature and even difficult relationship with God. Every man experience, what two 16th century Catholic philosophers described as the The Dark Night of The Soul, a time of darkness and doubt. However, with challenges we reveal a new God, not our false view of God. In the Dark Night we must surrender to God and find comfort in Him. King David outlines his Dark Night throughout Psalms and through it he emerges as a strong advocate for God with a strong, unbreakable connection to Him. It is from this new relationship with God that David is able to compose this one last powerful tribute to God. Hallelujah is written thirteen times in the final chapter of Psalms, which commentators say represents the thirteen attributes of God’s mercy. Despite loss and the fact that God seems hidden, if we hang in there long enough we will be embraced by the thirteen attributes of God’s divine mercy. Adapted from a Shiur by Rabbi Mark Dratch as part of the Psalms for Sara Project.
MISHLEI -משלי- PROVERBS 1 Mishlei can be considered one of most overtly philosophical books in the biblical canon, with an abundance of "sayings" that are known in the Biblical lingo as "meshalim." One central philosophical question that runs throughout the book concerns the nature of mankind. Is man good or evil in nature, and what are the educational outcomes of the conclusion? In other words, is man good, and the purpose of education is to expose that internal good, or is man full of temptation and needs to learn the discipline to master it? Mishlei seems to conclude that man is not innately good. “Good" is not a given, says Mishlei, but rather it is earned. And as a product of that, the purpose of education is not to uncover the core of good in man, but rather to foster it and teach it. Jordan Peterson, a Canadian clinical psychologist, writes about his twelve rules of life, one of them being, "Don't let your children do 13
anything that makes you not like them." What one can understand from this rule is that one should be present as a role model to his children and should show them what is right. Peterson challenges the modern notion of removing external influences from children so that they can be their true good selves, uncorrupted by society. Kids, he says, actually need rules and respond to them well. The fear that disciplining our children will cause them not to like us is ultimately detrimental to everyone. True love isn't letting one’s loved one do as he or she wishes, and hoping for the best - that is no different from neglect. True love is when a person understands the role he or she plays as a loved one in shaping who the other person becomes and in nurturing the good in the other. Good, then, becomes a state that has to be constantly worked towards, nurtured and striven for. We are all partners in bringing out the good in each other and loving each other enough to demand nothing less than “good.”
2 The Book of Proverbs is the second book in Ketuvim (or Writings), the third section of the Hebrew Bible. The full Hebrew title is Mishlei Shlomo, or The Proverbs of Solomon, a reference to King Solomon, the wisest of men, who, according to Jewish tradition, is the author of Proverbs. The Book of Proverbs (along with Job and Ecclesiastes) is an example of biblical “wisdom literature.” It doesn’t concern itself with Temple worship or sacrifice but, instead, tackles the basic question: What does it look like to live a good life? In Proverbs, the answer is given from the perspective of a wise and experienced teacher or parent offering insights on a wide range of subjects from relationships to wealth to spirituality. Proverbs shows us that there is an aspect of God, His wisdom, that can guide us through our lives. Anyone can access this wisdom and make an incredible life out of the gifts that it offers - a life of integrity, kindness, temperance, patience, humility, cheerfulness and self-control - so long as they are careful to respect the source of this wisdom – God. Thus, the oft-repeated theme “the fear of God (meaning submission to His will) is the beginning of wisdom.” One iconic proverb describes the Godly way of life as, “Its ways are ways of pleasantness, and all its paths are peace (3:17). A central story from the Book of Numbers illustrates the power of this truism. It tells of the rebellion of Korach and 250 others against Moses – the single most dangerous challenge to the leadership of Moses in the entire 40 years that he led the people in the Wilderness. Seeing that the situation is rapidly spinning out of control and understanding that this rebellion at its core is a revolt against God Himself, Moses prays to God for an immediate and dramatic resolution. No sooner does he finish speaking, than the ground opens up and swallows the rebels. The miracle Moses is counting on, happens. He has been proven right. End of revolt. End of story. But that’s not what happens. The next day, the whole Israelite community accuses Moses of killing “the Lord’s people.” The unrest continues. This time, God Himself intervenes. He instructs Moses to gather 12 staffs, one for each tribe. The next day, the staff of the tribe of Levi (the tribe of Moses and his brother, Aaron, the High Priest) has sprouted, budded, blossomed and borne almonds. Only then does the rebellion end. This unexpected conclusion to the story teaches us a profound lesson: Force never ends conflict – not even in the case of Moses, not even when the force is miraculous. It only deepens the conflict, adding grievance to injury. What ends conflict is gentle persuasion that takes a challenge seriously and addresses it with calm resolve, in this case the gentle miracle of the dead wood that comes to life again, flowering and bearing fruit – a visible symbol that Aaron and Moses were the chosen vehicles of the God of life. Indeed, not by accident is our verse describing the way of God as peaceful and pleasant, immediately preceded by the following: “It is a tree of life to those who embrace her; Those who lay hold of her will be blessed (3:18). That is conflict resolution in Judaism – not by force, but by pleasantness and peace. Adapted from an essay by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks.
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IYOV -איוב- JOB The book of Job (in Hebrew, Iyov), is a deep, thoughtful, and troubling book. In the form of an allegory, it tells the story of Job, a prosperous and pious Jew. He is wealthy, has a large family, and devotes himself to acts of righteousness. The story cuts to an imagined confrontation in heaven: Satan approaches God and suggests that Job’s devotion stems from his wealth and prosperity, not any genuine righteousness. He bets with God that if these things were stripped from Job, then Job would revert to wickedness, or at least lose his faith. God disagrees with Satan and puts it to the test. In one fell swoop, Job is informed by messengers that all his possessions have been stolen or destroyed, and his children have been killed. Devastated, he yet remains faithful to God, who then plagues Job with excruciating boils and physical afflictions. After, in the midst of his pain, Job is visited by three friends, and he bemoans his suffering. In the face of such trials, Job acknowledges the power and justice of God. Yet he refuses to naively accept how God has treated him. He protests with great bitterness and anger against God – for if God is so just and so ethical, how could He treat Job with such injustice and visit such pain upon him? Job’s friends dissent, particularly a man named Eliphaz. His friend insists that, if God is causing Job to suffer, Job must deserve it. He must have sinned. If Job was innocent, he argues, God would not punish him. Therefore, Job must be guilty of some great evil. Job pushes back – he refuses to accept that he deserves punishment and steadfastly insists he has lived righteously. He cannot accept that God can punish him justly – and questions how such a system can work anyway. He feels arbitrarily victimized. Yet he remains faithful to God. Though he protests – with great pain and anger - he does not rebel and forsake his faith. The book continues with the back and forth between Job and his friends, who heatedly berate Job for impugning God’s wisdom and for his lack of awe and fear. Job contemplates how it can be that the righteous suffer, that the innocent are put in pain. Finally, in a climactic scene, God reveals Himself to Job in a small silent breeze. He speaks to Job, and in his speech demonstrates the limits of man’s understanding compared to God, how it is impossible to understand the scope of God’s plans and wisdom. Job bows before God’s demonstration. But there is an ending scene: God castigates Job’s friends! He announces that they have sinned by giving false advice to Job. They were wrong to insist he had sinned and wrong to insist that God must work within the limits of their narrow understanding of justice. Indeed, God validates Job’s protest against Him. In return for Job retaining his faith – and thus disproving Satan – God restores Job’s wealth, he has new children, and lives a long and prosperous life with his family. A Question For Discussion: In Genesis, the first of the forefathers, Abraham, faces a test similar to Job. Abraham is ordered by God to sacrifice his firstborn son, Isaac. In wrenching, moving language, the Bible describes how Abraham began to carry out God’s command – without once questioning or pushing against it. He goes so far as to bind Isaac to an alter in accordance with God’s command before God stops him, offers a ram to sacrifice in Isaac’s place, and instead blesses Abraham as the progenitor of God’s people. There is a parallel to Job. In both cases, God took (or was taking) the most important things in the world from Abraham and Job. God commanded Abraham to sacrifice his son, and God tested Job by taking his family. Yet in Job’s case, he is rewarded for not blindly accepting his fate and for struggling with and pushing back against God’s will. In Abraham’s case he is rewarded for his unquestioning devotion and zealousness to fulfill God’s will. What does this suggest in terms of different responses to harsh situations or unjust acts? What are the bounds of righteous behavior in either case? In the case of Abraham, what distinguished his commitment to God from that of Eliphaz and his friends, whom God scorned?
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SHIR HASHIRIM
-שיר השירים- THE SONG OF SONGS
The Song of Songs (Shir HaShirim) was written by King Solomon. On the surface, in beautifully poetic language, this book tells the story of a woman and her beloved who are deeply in love and constantly searching for one another. Despite their longing for each other, chance as well as hasty decisions made without thought keep them apart. By the books end, however, the man and woman are reunited and bask in their eternal love. The Song of Songs is viewed as a metaphor for the relationship between the Jewish people and God. There are several aspects of the book that reflect our relationship with God, whether it is the bond based on mutual love and longing, or the idea that sometimes, although we desire to connect with God, we miss the opportunity to do so. There is one moment in The Song of Songs that is particularly poignant. This moment comes as the woman is desperately searching for her beloved and calls out to the maidens of Jerusalem. The woman exclaims, “Swear to me, maidens of Jerusalem that if you should find my beloved, tell him I am sick with love for him.” The maidens counter, “How is your beloved better than another that you would make us swear so?” With one question, this love, which until now has been fueled by pure passion and emotion, is turned on its head! Suddenly, the woman must pause and reflect on her relationship with the beloved. Suddenly the woman must ask herself, what is so special about her beloved? Why does she seek out her beloved with such single-minded focus? The woman rises spectacularly to this challenge and, upon reflection, beautifully lists the reasons her beloved outshines all others. Thus, from one simple question, the relationship between the woman and her beloved goes from a childish love based on pure passion to a mature love based on reflection and understanding This is a beautiful metaphor for our relationship with God. At some point, we must all ask ourselves: Why do we seek a connection with God? What is it about Judaism that we value and keeps us yearning to learn more? This is what a mature relationship is; one based on reflection and thoughtfulness, and perhaps this is the relationship with God we should strive for as we prepare to accept His Torah and reestablish our eternal bond.
RUT -רות- RUTH During the time of the Judges when there was a famine, the Israelite family of Elimelech, his wife Naomi, and their two sons emigrated to the nearby country of Moab. The two sons married two Moabite women: Ruth and Orpah. The husband of sons of Naomi died in Moab. Naomi decided to return to Israel and she told her daughters-in-law to return to their own mothers and remarry. Orpah reluctantly left; however, Ruth remained and told Naomi that wherever she went, Ruth would go. The two women returned to Bethlehem at the beginning of the barley harvest, and in order to support her mother-in-law and herself, Ruth went to the fields to glean. The field she went to belonged to a man named Boaz, who was kind to her because he had heard of her loyalty to her mother-in-law. After a closer relative refused to marry Ruth, as was standard practice at the time, Boaz, as the next closest relative, agreed to marry Ruth. Ruth and Boaz had a son who was the grandfather of King David. The opening passage of the book of Ruth, “And it happened during the days of the Judges,” is often overlooked, as it is akin to, “Once upon a time.” It seems to have no real significance. However, the Israeli scholar Yael Ziegler claims that this opening passage is really an introduction to the main purpose of the book of Ruth. The era of the Judges is set between the time of the conquest of Israel by Joshua and the establishment of a kingdom in the time of Samuel. The era of the Judges followed a consistent pattern - The Jewish People rebelled against God, God punished the people, the people repented and were then were saved by a Judge, only to sin again. The entire time period was marred by moral bankruptcy, the 16
decline of Jewish values, and a sense of distance from God. One example is the story of Jephthah’s daughter. Jephthah was a Judge of Israel who, in exchange for being victorious in battle against Ammon, promises that he will sacrifice whatever comes through his door next. Well, what came through the door was his daughter! Jephthah made this promise knowing full well that it was possible for a human being to walk through that door. His total disregard for the sanctity of life is a quintessential example of the attitudes and behavior of that time. It is against this backdrop that the story of Ruth takes place. In a time filled with evil, Ruth and Boaz are a bastion of kindness. Ruth clings to her elderly and downtrodden mother-in-law Naomi, even though she has her whole life ahead of her as a princess. Boaz makes certain that the poor Ruth is not taunted and is provided with extra food by his farmers. It is from this story of kindness that the ultimate Jewish monarchy, the Davidic Dynasty, is born. The Book of Ruth concludes with a list of her descendants, ending with King David himself. The historical context of the Book of Ruth is meant to contrast two types of societies affected by two types of leadership. The Book of Ruth demonstrates that leadership that fosters a positive and godly society is predicated on loving kindness and understanding the plight of others. Ruth, the light in a dark time, merited being the mother of the Kings in order to teach us that no one, not even the king himself, is exempt from acting with empathy and kindness. Only a society that is lead by a kindhearted person can truly succeed.
EICHA -איכה- LAMENTATIONS The Book of Lamentations (Eicha, in Hebrew) is a collection of poetic laments for the destruction of Jerusalem by Babylon in 586 BCE. By and large, the author of the book (who is traditionally believed to be Jeremiah the Prophet) attributes the destruction of the city to God, who allowed the city to be destroyed, and the book is structured as a heartfelt eulogy in which the bereaved bewails and addresses the dead. The book is traditionally recited on the fast day of Tisha B'Av (the ninth day of the Jewish month of Av), mourning the destruction of both the First and Second Temples in Jerusalem. The vast majority of the book serves as a graphic and devastating retelling of the horrors of the destruction. The main exception to this theme is found in the fifth and final chapter of the book, which is a prayer that God allow for the repentance and recovery of the people of Israel and the restoration of Zion and Jerusalem. The peak of this hopeful plea is found in the penultimate verse of the book, which reads as follows: “Restore us to You, O Lord, that we may be restored! Renew our days as of old.” The sages have provided various explanations for the question of precisely to which “days of old” does this verse refer. According to one predominant explanation, the “days of old” refer to the days of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden immediately following the creation of the world by God. One may ask, how could it be that people experiencing physical and religious persecution, war and eviction from their native homeland, possibly be asking for God to return them to the days of Adam and Eve? Why not simply ask to be saved from the powerful and heavily armed Babylonian army? One possible answer to this question is that the people experiencing the destruction of their homeland and their impending exile had a special capacity to understand the errors of their ways in turning away from the commandments of God, which ultimately led to God allowing for the destruction. Upon achieving this realization, their request of God was not simply to restore their lives to their status prior to the arrival of the Babylonian invaders. Rather, what they craved was the closest relationship with God ever experienced by human beings; the relationship between God and his first human creations. This idea is encapsulated by the Hebrew word for repentance, teshuva, which is a form of the Hebrew word for return, shuv. In Jewish thought, the process of repentance and growing closer to God is always framed as teshuva, returning, to humanity’s originally intended relationship with God, as exemplified by the intimate relationship between Adam and Eve and their Creator.
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KOHELET -קהלת- ECCLESIASTES One of the most enigmatic works in the Hebrew Bible, the Book of Kohelet did not always have an assured place among Scripture. The great rabbinic sages of the Mishnah had determined - for various reasons - that a scroll upon which was written a book of the Hebrew Bible imparted impurity to the hands of anyone who touched it. Some of the sages extended this capacity to the Book of Kohelet, but others were unsure whether Kohelet deserved this status, and other denied it outright (Mishnah Yadayim 3.5). Ultimately the expansive view prevailed, and Kohelet has ever since been an integral part of the Torah. Although the sages do not explain their hesitance to include Kohelet into the Bible, we can surmise that it is Kohelet’s gloomy, cynical nature, so atypical as far as scriptural works are concerned. Indeed, in many ways, Kohelet is a response to the more straightforward works of wisdom like Proverbs. In this respect, Kohelet is actually one of the most profound Biblical works. It is immaculately structured to articulate its perspective. Kohelet begins with a philosophical account of creation (1.1-11). The work then provides an anthropological account of humanity, according to which the inexorability of death and the unpredictability of human existence prior to death combine to yield the conclusion that all accomplishments are futile, and all we have in this life is what God gives us (1.12-3.15). Kohelet then moves from the philosophical to the political by providing a broad critique of human society. Rulers are unjust, judges are corrupt, the wealthy exploit the poor, and the achievements of the mighty come to nothing. On balance, any honest observer of humanity should conclude that human society is thoroughly rotted (3.16-6.10). In its most trenchant section, Kohelet then launches an attack upon the prevailing premises of ancient near eastern wisdom, as found throughout the Mesopotamian world, including in some works found in the Torah (6.11-9.6). The foundation of this wisdom tradition is that a life well lived will surely bear fruit, and a life poorly lived will end badly; humans should structure their lives accordingly. Kohelet argues strenuously that this is simply not what actually happens in practice: “All human toil is for the mouth, yet the appetite is not satisfied. For what advantage have the wise over fools? And what do the poor have who know how to conduct themselves before the living?” (6.7-8). Kohelet then seeks to apply the foregoing analysis to life, arguing that all one can do is enjoy life while it lasts, and in the meantime fear God (9.7-12.8). The book’s coda emphasizes this final theme by encouraging the reader simply to fear God and obey him (12.9-14). Given that “this too is vanity” is Kohelet’s dominant refrain, it is easy to read the work as irredeemably cynical. Insofar as cynicism is poisonous to a healthy religious worldview, it is easy to understand why some of the early sages would have been discomfitted by Kohelet. Ultimately, however, Kohelet is in its own way one of the most austerely pious books of the Hebrew Bible whose perspective is especially essential in our modern age. When all is said and done, Kohelet is a critique of speculative religious philosophy - maybe religious philosophy in general - arguing instead that the best lived life is one that isn’t plagued by so much thinking. There is a point, argues Kohelet, at which the great theologians engaged in furious debate over the nature of God and faith are wasting their time. No amount of thought will banish all doubts about God and the nature of existence, so the good life must rest on something other than thought. For Kohelet, that ‘something else’ is experience, namely, the fear of God. In other words, in the end what we need are those visceral experiences - those raw, simple, emotional encounters with the divine - to sustain us in our faith. No amount of rationalism can replace those. In today’s age - an era suffused by rational skepticism of anything remotely weird or mysterious, Kohelet’s simple fear of God is invaluable.
ESTHER -אסתר- ESTHER The Book of Esther begins with a lavish six-month party thrown by King Achashverosh, the King of Persia. The king summons his wife, Queen Vashti, to the party and she refuses to attend, causing him to banish her from the kingdom. The king’s advisors then suggest that the King find a new bride to replace Queen Vashti. A Jewish girl named Esther is summoned to the palace to be shown to the King as a potential wife. She chooses to hide her identity as a Jew and is eventually chosen to be the King’s new wife.
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After that, Esther’s uncle, Mordechai, refuses to bow to the King’s advisor, Haman. Haman, enraged, plots to kill all of the Jews. Haman draws a lot to determine the day on which the Jews will be killed and begins to build gallows upon which Mordechai will be hanged. Mordechai hears of Haman’s plan and immediately notifies Esther, who, after initially hesitating, chooses to confront the King and tell him about the horrible plans of his top advisor. After a series of feasts with Haman and the King, Esther reveals her Jewish identity and identifies Haman as the man who wants to kill her and her people. The King is enraged and has Haman hanged on the gallows he had built for Mordechai. On the 13th of Adar, the day ordained as the day of destruction for the Jews, the Jews are victorious over their enemies and the holiday of Purim is established. A constant theme throughout the Book of Esther is one of determinism. The Book opens with an extravagant and wasteful party, full of drinking, hedonism and indulgence; the very essence of meaninglessness. The Megillah spends verse after verse describing the vessels used in the party and the perfumes used for the women who are presented before the king. The culture of Persia was clearly one devoid of any higher purpose. People gave in to their desires, allowed for an enormous gala to go on and on for several months, and didn’t protest when Haman decreed that the Jewish people be killed. And the antagonist himself, Haman, decides to kill the Jews drawing a lot, essentially leaving the destruction of an entire nation up to fate. The Midrash actually describes that the Jewish people’s greatest enemy, the nation of Amalek, symbolized determinism. When the ancient Israelites were attacked by Amalek in the desert, the verse states “אשר קרך בדרך,” “who surprised you on your way.” “Karcha,” says the Midrash, is from the same root word as “Mikreh,” which means happenstance. The Jewish people leaving Egypt symbolized action and purposefulness, while Amalek attacked the Jewish people because they just happened upon them. When Mordechai sends a messenger to Esther to report Haman’s evil plans, she hesitates. Afterall, she says, the rule is that she cannot go to the King on her own, but rather she must wait for him to summon her. Esther initially gives in to the destructive culture of inaction and determinism. I have no power, she says; it is what it is. There’s nothing I can do. Mordechai, in a unique display of courage, refuses to let her stand by and watch. Don’t fool yourself, says Mordechai, into thinking that you will be saved if you do not act. Stand by and watch, and you and your household will perish. You must understand your potential and your capabilities and be proactive in saving the Jews. And not only that, but who knows if the very reason you were chosen as Queen was for you to be faced with this very decision. Who knows if the very reason you are where you are, is for a higher purpose? Esther hears this plea from Mordechai and instantly springs into action. Gather the people, says Esther, and fast for me. If I perish, I will perish. And so it was, that when Esther approached the King uninvited, he welcomed her to his throne and offered her up to half of the kingdom. He responded to her show of bravery and removed Haman from power because of her proactive request. Esther’s brave activism was the single reason the Jewish People were saved. Without her, the decree would have ensued and the Jews would have been killed. But Esther’s refusal to let fate take control changed the tone of the entire story and saved the whole nation. Esther chose to become the master of her own destiny, even though the odds were stacked against her. Part of our role on this earth, is, through our actions, to bring about positive change and to infuse meaning into what are oftentimes, toxic and unhealthy surroundings. We are the masters of our own destiny.
DANIEL -דניאל- DANIEL The Book of Daniel is one of the most challenging, if also one of the most fascinating compositions in the entire Hebrew Bible. The Babylonian Talmud attributes the editing of the work to the “Men of the Great Assembly” (Bava Batra 15a) - whose chronology is uncertain - which may be a way of alluding to the difficulties in determining Daniel’s date. In fact, literarily the book is split into two sections delineated by language, genre, and time period. 19
The first half of the book (chapters 1-6) narrate the life and times of a Daniel himself, a remarkable prophet whose career straddled the Neo-Babylonian and Persian periods. Next to Yehezkel, Daniel is the most famous (although possibly only other) post-Sinai prophet to have prophesied outside the land of Israel. In fact, Daniel’s exile-based prophetic ability was utilized in rabbinic literature composed in the Land of Israel (e.g. Mekhilta de-Rabbi Yishmael Pischa 1) to prove that such a thing is possible. In any case, this half of the book is written in Aramaic, and takes the form of a character-driven narrative, like those found in the Book of Bereishit. The second half of the book (chapters 7-12) appears to be set much later, during the Hellenistic period, on the eve of the Maccabean Revolt. It is chock full of extremely specific details about the Ptolemaic and Seleucid kings who succeeded Alexander the Great, and cuts off with Achashverosh’s death. This part of the book takes the form historians refer to as “apocalypse,” which is when an otherworldly figure - usually an angel - reveals grand mysteries to a human being. Apocalypses are typically suffused with sometimes even detailed references to historical events. While most of these features can beth visions of enigmatic imagery - rather than straightforward communiques from God - an found individually in other works of the Hebrew Bible, they are never found together in any other work except for the Book of Daniel. This makes the Book of Daniel especially distinct among the works of the Torah. The fact that this portion of the Book of Daniel is composed in Hebrew also sets it off from the first half of the book. Now, the Men of the Great Assembly did have good reason to put the two halves of the book together. They relate to many of the same themes, and both speak to an era of crisis in Jewish history during which the Jewish people are threatened, both physically and spiritually, by the overwhelming political power of a foreign, imperial regime. The two halves of the book are even literarily joined by overlapping language. Thus, while the “narrative” half of the book is written in Aramaic, the first chapter of that section is actually written in Hebrew (chapter 1); conversely, while the “apocalypse” half of Daniel is composed in Hebrew, the first chapter of that stretch is in Aramaic (chapter 7). The book is clearly meant to be read as a unified whole. To get a handle on the book’s overarching theme, let us take a very brief look at its titular protagonist, Daniel. The clear goal of the opening chapters of Daniel is to set up a direct parallel between Daniel and Yosef from the Book of Bereishit. The comparison is interesting not least because of their shared uncertain status with relation to God. In Yosef’s case, while we usually think of him as a prophet, he was certainly a strange prophet in that God never spoke directly to him. At most he was granted heavenly visions, in which God does not speak. As for Daniel, while (as noted earlier) sources from the Land of Israel considered Daniel a bona fide prophet, the Babylonian Talmud explicitly claims that Daniel was not a prophet (Megillah 3a); instead, he was merely given divine visions in which God does not speak! Yosef was renowned as a dream-interpreter; so was Daniel. Yosef gained a promotion from a king after successfully out-competing the court magicians (chartumim) to interpret the king’s dreams; so did Daniel. In fact, even the language used to describe these events is astonishingly similar. When Pharaoh awakes from his dreams we are told “his mind was troubled” (va-tippa’em rucho); similarly, when Nebuchadnezzar awakes from his dreams we are told “his mind was troubled” (va-titpa’em rucho). This phrasing appears nowhere else in the entire Hebrew Bible. What is the purpose of this comparison? In many ways it is to propound Yosef as a model for how Jews should behave in exile. Yosef took an active role in national politics, all the while proudly proclaiming his allegiance to the God of Israel. He saw his role as assuring of all humanity. Yosef even signaled his willingness to participate in broader society by adopting a new name; Daniel did as well. Yosef was a living, breathing sanctification of God’s name in the eyes of the world. Daniel’s narrative contains these features as well, and the comparison is instructive for us. But the contrast between the two characters is instructive as well. Unlike Yosef, Daniel prophesies the impending end of the Neo-Babylonian empire, and the rise of a new, more just government. Unlike Yosef, Daniel does not share his meals with those outside his community. And whereas Yosef sparred with powerful Egyptian officials prior to his elevation by the king, Daniel continued to contend with powerful nobles even afterwards. Daniel thus builds upon the scaffolding provided by Yosef’s story. While Yosef teaches us the essential importance for the Jewish mission of making a significant, positive impact upon the world at large, thereby sanctifying God’s name in public - and the Book of Daniel absolutely affirms this - Daniel further emphasizes the importance of being countercultural. There are times where the Jew is called upon to be a restraining force upon the worst instincts of human society. At times like those, we cannot be fearful of losing our power and influence, or worry about fitting in. We must bravely stand up for what is right, knowing that in doing so our goal is not to mock those around us, or dismiss them, but precisely to help society - and ourselves as part of society - to become all that we can be in service to God.
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EZRA & NECHEMIAH
-עזרא ונחמיה- EZRA & NEHEMIAH
The books of Ezra and Nechemia describe the return of a portion of the people of Israel to the land of Israel and the rebuilding of the Second Temple. At the end of the sixth century B.C.E., the kingdom of Judah was dismantled by the Babylonian empire. Jerusalem and the Temple (the Beit Hamikdash) were destroyed, and thousands of Judahites were exiled to Mesopotamia. Those who were exiled, however, did not see this as a final stage in Israel’s history. They were aware that Jeremiah had prophesied that there would be an exile, but there would also be a return. The opportunity for that return came about roughly 70 years later, in 538 B.C.E. The Babylonian empire fell, and the Persian empire gained control of Mesopotamia and most of the Middle East. One of the first rulers of the empire, Cyrus, sought to show tolerance to all of the communities in Mesopotamia. Cyrus issued a famous edict, narrated at the very beginning of the book of Ezra, allowing Jews who wished to return to “Jerusalem that is in Judah” and build a “House for the God of Heaven” to do so. The first wave of returnees, whose story is told in Ezra chapters 1-6, consisted of about 40,000 individuals, led by Zerubbabel, a descendant of King David. Inspired by the vision of restoring the glory of the age of David and Solomon, the returnees sought to re-establish the Temple, and to run the community in a way that would elicit divine approval. The end of chapter 6 of the book of Ezra paints a beautiful and dramatic picture of the event celebrating the reestablishment of the Temple. “And when the builders laid the foundation of the temple of God, they set the priests in their apparel with trumpets, and the Levites the sons of Asaph with cymbals, to praise God, according to the direction of David, king of Israel. And they sang one to another in praising and giving thanks unto God: 'for He is good, for His mercy endureth forever toward Israel.' And all the people shouted with a great shout, when they praised God, because the foundation of the house of God was laid.” One would assume that after brutally being driven out of their ancestral homeland and suffering through decades of exile and oppression, the Jews returning to the land of Israel would be experiencing unanimous and overwhelming joy and ecstasy. In reality, however, the reaction of the returning Israelites was significantly more complicated. The penultimate verse of chapter 6 continues to read as follows: “Many of the priests and Levites and the chiefs of the clans, the old men who had seen the first house, wept loudly at the sight of the founding of this house. Many others shouted joyously at the top of their voices.” As it turns out, although the majority of the returnees were overcome with joy at the rebuilding of the Temple, those more senior returnees, who had witnessed the glory of the first Temple, could not help but be saddened upon witnessing the second Temple, which lacked certain critical aspects that were vital to the holiness of the first Temple. These aspects, which existed only in the first Temple, include the Ark of the Covenant, the dwelling of the divine presence of God (the Shechinah) and the Urim V’Tumim, a special garment worn by the High Priest. One the one hand, this split and conflicting reaction amongst the various generations could be somewhat troubling. How could it b that two groups of people, finally experiencing redemption after 70 years of exile, reacted so differently to the same exact event? On the other hand, this mixed reaction could be seen as lending extra meaning to this momentous occasion. If only the pure joy was voiced, while possibly emotionally simpler to comprehend, the experience would be lacking in true meaning. The older generation, by sharing with the their descendants their memories of the original Temple, provided the ever-important institutional memory which gives extra meaning and endurance to the renewed Temple. In fact, the final verse of chapter 6 reinforces this understanding: “The people could not distinguish the shouts of joy from the people’s weeping, for the people raised a great shout, the sound of which could be heard from afar.” Although part of the crowd was weeping and others were shouting in joy, from afar, the two sounds combined to make one great sound. It is only through the memory and tradition of the older generations, combined together with the renewal and vigor of the younger generations, that the Jewish people were able to reestablish themselves in their land and reestablish God’s House in Jerusalem.
DIVREI HAYAMIM -
דברי הימים- CHRONICLES
Divrei HaYamim, or Chronicles, is the last of the 24 books of the Hebrew Bible. It was originally composed as one book, but the Greek translation several hundred years later divided it into two books, 1st and 2nd Chronicles. 21
1st Chronicles begins by tracing the genealogies of Israel, beginning all the way back with the first human being, Adam. It continues through all the 12 tribes of Israel, then King David, and the Priestly line. The remainder of 1st Chronicles describes in narrative form the reign of King David, including the preparation for the building of the new Temple, which his son, Solomon, would build. The book of 2nd Chronicles covers the events from the beginning of King Solomon’s reign in 970 B.C.E. up to the beginning of the Babylonian captivity in 586 B.C.E. It begins with details of the reign of King Solomon, including the building and construction of the Temple in Jerusalem. It describes how, following the reign of King Solomon, the nation split into two kingdoms: North and South. The Northern Kingdom revolted against Solomon’s heir, Rehoboam, and took a new king. From this point, 2nd Chronicles focuses mainly on the events of the Southern Kingdom, whose kings belong to the dynasty of King David, all the way through the defeat of the Southern Kingdom by the Babylonians, the destruction of the first Temple and the people’s exile to Babylon. In the book’s final verses, the Persian king, Cyrus the Great, who had conquered the Babylonian Empire, authorizes the restoration of the Temple in Jerusalem, and the return of the remnant of the Hebrew exiles to the land of Israel. The Book of Chronicles was written by Ezra the Scribe who lived around 100 years after the destruction of Jerusalem, in the period when the Jews were allowed to return to the land of Israel from exile and rebuild their Temple. Why did he write it? After all, much of the events he describes were already covered in the earlier books of Judges, Samuel and Kings! To answer this question, we need to understand the magnitude of the national disaster that occurred with the destruction of the Temple in 586 BCE and the subsequent exile from the Land of Israel. Indeed, it was no less a Holocaust than the one world Jewry experienced in the 20th century. Massive numbers of Jews were killed or enslaved and sent to a faraway land. Family records, meticulously kept for generations, went up in smoke. The Temple and all of the religious ritual surrounding it came to a sudden end, casting into doubt the ability of the Jewish people to survive. Much greater was the likelihood that the Jews would disappear from the pages of history like all conquered peoples before them. Then, suddenly, Cyrus the Great tells the Jews that they can return to their land and rebuild their Temple! How were they to begin this process? The post-Holocaust generation of Ezra’s time had been severed from their past. They wondered, “Who are we? Who are our ancestors? How will we ever know how to recreate a just, Torah-centered society in our ancient land when so many who could have guided us are gone? Is it even worth it when we have finally adjusted to living in a new land?” And so, Ezra writes the Book of Chronicles to answer those questions. He combs any earlier records he can find that were left behind and puts together a list of genealogies. Now the people of Israel will know their roots. And whereas the earlier books of Judges, Samuel and Kings were written to explain how and why the destruction and exile came about, cataloguing the national sins that led to the people’s downfall, the Book of Chronicles was written to provide a template for the future. For a post-exile generation, Chronicles highlights what the people will need to know in order to rebuild the world their ancestors once knew. And so, Ezra focuses on the great Kings David and Solomon to show his generation what great leadership looks like, and to inspire them to return to their homeland and recreate the glory days when the people of Israel followed in the ways of God and sanctified His name in the world. Ezra succeeded, and the Temple was finally rebuilt in Jerusalem. Tragically, after several hundred years, it too was destroyed, and what followed were nearly 2000 years of bitter exile. Miraculously, the Jewish people finally returned to Zion and, 70 years ago, a mere 3 years after the Holocaust of European Jewry, established the modern State of Israel. Once again, the Book of Chronicles has a story to tell. It reminds us of those great leaders in our nation’s ancient past on whose shoulders we stand, and it inspires us to do our part to support the building of a just, moral society in our ancient homeland, whose mission must be to bring honor to God’s name for all the world to see. Adapted from a lecture by Professor Smadar Rosensweig
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תם ונשלם
שבח לא-ל בורא עולם