On the fifteenth day of this month there shall be the festival of matzot for the Lord; for seven days shall you eat matzot.” (Leviticus 23:7,8).
Over the last few weeks, Israel has been through its cycle of commemorative days, taking us through the roller-coaster of emotions as we mourn the victims of the Holocaust and those who died in Israel's wars as well as celebrating the establishment of the State of Israel. Throughout this period, we have also been thinking about the latest threats of genocide against the Jewish people and at the commemorative ceremonies, our Prime Minister spoke passionately about the Iranian threat.
With the possibility of some sort of attack on Iran in everyone's minds, our question is how should we relate to those who wish to destroy the Jewish people?
As I visited educational institutions teaching about the significance of Yom Hashoah, I couldn't help but feel a certain satisfaction and even joy despite the deep dark clouds from Auschwitz and Treblinka. I kept hearing in my own mind the verse, "In the destruction of the wicked there is exultation" (Proverbs 11:10). Is revenge a legitimate Jewish emotion, especially in light of the prohibition against - vengeance (Leviticus 19:18)?
Our portion of Emor lists the festivals. As you know, unlike the Festival of Sukkot wherein Hallel (Psalms of Praise) is recited every day, on Passover only "half Hallel" is recited during the last six days out of respect for the Egyptians who died during the Exodus. In fact, our Rabbinic Sages teach us that when the Egyptians were being drowned in the Reed Sea, the Almighty stopped the angels from singing praises. "The work of My hands is drowning in the sea, and you are singing songs of praise?!"
And did we not learn in the name of Shmuel HaKatan, "You shall not rejoice at the fall of your enemies"?
When the Nazis marched into the small Polish town of Boyan, they took out the three Jewish leaders - the Rebbe, the Dayan (Judge) and the Parnas - and forced them to dig their own graves. Before being shot, the Rebbe asked to recite a very short prayer: "Blessed art Thou Lord our God King of the Universe who has not created me a Gentile."
The Nazi murderers burst out laughing. "Foolish Jewish pig!" they screamed. "Do you not realize that if only you were a gentile, you could continue to live?" The Rebbe looked directly into the eyes of his evil executioner: "When the world is divided between those who murder innocent people and innocent people who are being murdered, I would rather be among the murdered than among those doing the murdering! Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One."
It is our good fortune that today we have a third option, one which did not exist for the Rebbe of Boyan. We now have the possibility of defending ourselves against those who wish to destroy innocent lives.
How well do I remember a talk which I gave 33 years ago to a group of nine year olds on Kibbutz Ein Tzurim. It was on Tisha B'Av, and I was trying to explain to them the horrors of the Holocaust. As I described a kinder-action when hundreds of children were rounded up for Auschwitz, one young boy raised his hand: "But Rabbi, where was Tzahal, the Israeli Army?"
I kissed him on the forehead, joyous in the knowledge that a new generation was growing up without any knowledge of life before the Israel Defense Forces.
One cannot love Good without despising Evil; those who are silent in the face of evil are ultimately collaborators with the evil that is being perpetrated. It is to this end, that we are commanded to "destroy the evil within our midst" and to "blot out the memory of Amalek."
It is fascinating that the verse does not command us to blot out Amalek but rather the memory of Amalek. I would maintain that the best way to do this would be to convert Amalek – at least to acceptance of the Seven Noahide Laws of Morality.
The Talmud (B.T. Sanhedrin 99) suggests that Timna, the mistress of Elifaz, son of Esau, wished to convert to Judaism, but was rejected by Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Disappointed, she went to live with Elifaz, and the child they bore together was Amalek (Genesis 36: 12). The Talmudic lesson derived from this is that she should have been accepted. There is even a Talmudic tradition that the descendants of Amalek taught Torah in Bnei Brak!
If conversion is impossible, then evil must be destroyed. And one has a right to rejoice when evil individuals – ready to act against innocent people are prevented from doing so.
Remember that God chides the angels for singing songs of praise at the Reed Sea – the angels, who could not have been harmed by the Egyptians, but not the Israelites. As we all know, the Israelites did sing at the Reed Sea.
Acharei Mot - for the Diaspora
The manner in which halakhically observant Jews relate to other streams of Judaism will depend upon the interpretation of a well-known verse in this week’s Biblical reading, “You shall love your friend like yourself.” Yes, Rabbi Akiva referred to this commandment as “the great rule of the Torah” (Torat Kohanim 19,45 ad loc). Yes, when a would-be convert came to Hillel with the request to be converted to Judaism on the condition that he be taught the entire Torah while standing on one foot, the sage responded, merely restating the words of our commandment: “What is hateful to you, do not do to your friend. That is the entire Torah; the rest is commentary. Go and study” (B.T. Shabbat 31a). And yes, no observant Jew would want to enter his synagogue only to find that it had been vandalized. But an observant Jew’s attitude towards this crime will ultimately depend upon our interpretation of a single word in the text of the commandment: “friend,” or re’a (Hebrew).
The narrowest interpretation of the word would insist that the verse refers only to "your friend vis a vis the commandments," which means an individual who is as ritually observant as you are. If it is someone who would be considered ritually lax in his observance, you may even hate him (see additions to Rashi and Rashbam ad loc). Maimonides would seem to limit the Biblical commandment to another Israelite (Laws of Proper Opinions 6:3), although he would most probably extend the practice of human sensitivity to every individual who keeps the universal moral laws of Noah (see his last ruling in his Laws of Slaves). It is the Ibn Ezra who interprets the text in accordance with every word in the verse and understands that it refers to every human being created by God “in His image." This is why this verse dealing with inter-personal laws concludes, “I am the Lord,” in order to explain that God created all of us “as one.” All of us were created in His image, all share a portion of God within ourselves, and hence we are all siblings. (Ibn Ezra, ad loc).
It is from this perspective that Rabbi Akiva taught, “Beloved is the human being, who is created in the Divine Image” (Mishnah Avot 3,18),. This is what makes this commandment “the great rule of the Torah,” the rule which is inclusive of all of humanity. And it would most certainly include our Reform siblings and co-religionists.
I would like to go one step further. I am a very proud Orthodox Jew, teacher and rabbi, who believes that our Torah is the word of God. I believe that it is the halakha – our fealty to the Jewish legal system which has its roots in Sinai and which developed through the generations as recorded in the Talmud, the Codes and the Responsa – which has guided our continued and creative existence into this period of “the beginning of the sprouting of our redemption.” Hence, I cannot pray a statutory prayer service conducted in a non-Orthodox synagogue, since it would not conform to the rules of congregational prayer which I hold to be sacrosanct.
However, the other movements are not my enemies; from a certain perspective, they are my partners. In many instances, they have reached Jews whom neither I nor my Orthodox co-religionists were successful in reaching and have brought them closer to Jewish traditions. There are even a significant number of students who have come to our Rabbinical School on a religious journey which began in a Reform congregation or camp setting. Yes, we do not agree, yet, are there not many instances wherein partners generally disagree?
Moreover, we can even learn from heterodox groups. There were many aspects of synagogue life, especially in the diaspora, where we learned from non-Orthodox movements such as having more decorous services, including a sermon in the vernacular, and explaining our prayers to the uninitiated. Indeed, the challenge of the non-Orthodox movements made Orthodoxy more receptive and more open to human sensitivities. In a situation of “competition,” every “establishment” must try a little harder!
And, even in a more extreme situation, did not Rabbi Meir continue to learn from Elisha ben Abuyah, even after he turned away from traditional Torah and became a heretic? And this was justified by the other Sages (B.T. Hagigah 15b)! The bottom line: our Torah teaches that we must love others like we love ourselves even if – perhaps especially if – the other is different from ourselves. We must always be mindful of the fact that our common “image of God” makes that which unites us as siblings more significant than anything which divides us.
Jewish tradition encourages everyone – from childhood on – to study our legal texts, because such studies create a socially unacceptable climate for legal infraction. A dangerous culture of male, "macho" chauvinism and corruption seep into the highest echelons of our political and military elite; when such an evil spirit of acceptance of sexual harassment rears its ugly head, it is crucially important that our press step in and express public revulsion.
Obviously, they must do so responsibly – and hopefully the laws of libel protect the innocent from unfair attacks by the media. It must be remembered, however, that fame and public office engenders added responsibility – not added privilege! One dare not turn on the public in whose adulation one basked the moment it displays its disappointment and disgust. Our society owes a vote of thanks to public media, one of whose tasks must be the safeguarding of morality in the most sacrosanct corridors of power and influence.