A thought on Parshas Bamidbar

"...ish al diglo b'osos l'beis avosam..."
"...each by his own banner with paternal family signs..." (2:2)

The camp of the tribes of Israel was emblazoned by a series of flags or banners, with the color and insignia on each one designating the position, role and symbol of each tribal household.

The word which needs clarification here is "osos" - signs or insignias. We can understand that each banner represented its tribe by way of color and symbol. This may be the meaning of osos. However, the word seems connected to the two words which follow, l'beis avosam - according to the fathers' houses. Is this hinting at something deeper?The Chezkuni introduces us to a mystical source which writes that the letters (another meaning of the word osos) of the three Patriarchs' names were also sprinkled across the banners! How so?

Our Patriarchs were Avraham, Yitzchak and Yakov. Think about the spelling of those three names. In Hebrew, Avraham has five letters, Yitzchak has four, and Yakov has four. That totals thirteen letters. There were twelve tribes of Israel, yet the tribe of Yosef included two factions, Ephraim and Menashe, his sons. That means that the twelve tribes had thirteen banners. Variously there were four encampment flags subdividing the entire camp into four sections. The first banner had the first letters of each name (alef, yud, and yud), the second had the second letter of each name (bais, tzadi and ayin), the third banner had the third letter of each name (reish, ches and kuf) and the fourth had mem, kuf and beis.

Now, what can we infer from this mystical source? What was the function of having paternal or patriarchal letters scattered across the tribal banners? I would offer the thought that whereas each tribe contained its personal traits and features, as we know from many sources in Chazal, and whereas each tribe had its individuality and uniqueness, it was important to know that despite the variance and differences, they all were products of the same stock. The presence of the Avos was noted on the banners. It was a matter of a drop here, a trace there, in the form of select letters appearing on select banners. This may have signified that despite the individual character of each tribe and its members, all needed to recognize the traces of the great Forefathers which were concurrent, if latent, features of our people. Signs of the Patriarchs were present among their descendants. They had left their mark on future generations.

And in our own times, we also have to remember this. We have developed into a nation of many facets. We have streamed from the East, arisen in the West, emerged from the South and appeared in the North. We have different accents, different skin tones, different customs, different diets yet...we all need to spot the Patriarchal roots which bind us together. We are all Jews. We are all bound to possess and emanate the qualities given down by our Avos, whose osios are etched upon our character. We must know this for ourselves and we must remember this about each other.

Come to think of it, twenty years ago this week, I used a similar theme at the seudas bris mila of my youngest son Yosef Ezra. May he carry our flag. May he carry his own banner. May there always be evident traces in him of his forefathers and of our Patriarchs. May HaShem continue to bless him with a complete refuah. Good Shabbos. D Fox

A Thought on Parshios Behar - Bechukosai

"...v'lo ariach b'reiach nichochachem..."
"...and I will not savor the fragrance of your offerings..." (26:31)

In the section known as the Tochecha where HaShem foretells the consequences of our violating the rules and structure of Torah, our verse admonishes us with the grim image of G-d overlooking the offerings of His people.

The Chezkuni understands this entire dismal section as one of mida k'neged mida which is the lex talionis of the Torah whereby a human act has a consequence, be it reinforcing, or punitive. Hence, he writes, whereas the Divine vision for the Nation of Israel was an ideal of "v'his'halachti b'sochechem" - "and I shall walk in your midst" (26:31), our straying and erring will ultimately lead to "...and I will not savor the fragrance of your offerings."

In thinking about the Chezkuni's explanation, it seems hard to see the symmetry between these two images. In what way is the loss of "HaShem walking among us" reflected by "not savoring the fragrant offerings"?

I would offer that our fragrant offerings are, for most of history, our prayers. We even say in Anim Zemiros "u'tefilasi tikon ktores" - "may my prayer be accepted like the incense service." HaShem, we hope, accepts our prayers in the manner in which we wish. When we plead for something, we hope that His answer is in the affirmative, and when we beg for salvation, we hope that He intervenes. This is captured by the image of "accepting our fragrant offerings." In turn, however, if HaShem does not seem to attend to our prayers, we feel as if He has not savored our offerings.

This is reflected in the image of the earlier verse. What does it mean that we sense HaShem "walking in our midst"? How do we know that? How can we tell if, metaphorically, He is in our presence, or we in His?

We sense that HaShem "walks" among us precisely when He heeds our tefilla - when our prayers are answered in the manner that we wish, then this feels as if we grasp HaShem as a reality, rather than as a concept.

So, the Chezkuni means that the reality is that HaShem is "there" (and "here") so that He is walking in our midst. We access that reality through turning to Him for all that we seek, both in times of good will (ais ratzon) and in times of distress (ais tzara r'l). However, a consequence of our straying from Torah's straight path is that we will not sense His Presence. That sense fades when we see that He no longer responds to our prayer. Thus, the symmetrical opposite of walking among us is ceasing to savor the prayers which we offer.

I offer my prayers to HaShem who responded with a refuah for my son Yosef Ezra who should continue to recover speedily and fully.

A thought on Parshas Emor

"...v'lo yechallu es Shem kadshi...""...and they will not desecrate my holy Name..." (22:2)

This warning comes, according to the Chezkuni, to remind us that serving HaShem is intended to fulfill a lofty purpose. We approach Him as a demonstration of our reverence and in order to spread a sense of the sacred.

When we approach HaShem with motivations and agendas which confuse the sacred with the selfish, or when we doctor our worship with peculiar embellishments of an offbeat nature, this is a desecration of the "holy Name." It shows neither reverence to Him (since we are not doing what we are bidden to do) nor does it disseminate a sacred sense among others.

I had a strange consultation some while ago. A colleague of mine who practices an Eastern religion asked me to see one of her patients. He was a Jewish man who had decided to synthesize his native religion (Judaism) with Eastern practices which he found meaningful. He was going to speak at his son's bar mitzva and had composed a speech which drew from the folklore and mystical tradition of the sect he had joined. His therapist, meanwhile, said that she found it inappropriate but could not get this through to her patient. Knowing of my own faith and practices, she recommended that he see me in order to get a perspective of what a father should say on the occasion of his son's entry into manhood, what a son, at that juncture, needs and is able to hear, and what the tradition was all about. Of interest was that the man had already shown the speech to his rabbi, and she had approved, finding it deep and delightful.

The course which I chose with the man is not that relevant. The issue, however, is quite germane. When we approach HaShem, there is a purity and a loyalty which must encompass this process. We go to serve Him, on His terms, and the Torah has instructed us on discerning the holy from the profane. That is the context of avoda and that is the ultimate form of sacrifice, the delivering of our own will and motives to Him.

This is quite clear from the explanation of the Chezkuni. When he adds the thought that blending the sacred with the unbidden creates chillul HaShem - when one fails to impart holiness - and that this blocks the sense of the sacred, I found an illustration of this. When I asked the referring therapist why she was making such as issue of the matter and not just leaving it out of the therapy, her insightful (and perhaps spiritually oriented) response was that she felt strongly that trying to manufacture a concoction of disparate faiths would end up embarrassing the man's son, and humiliating the man among his peers and family. "There is nothing religious about making a fool of yourself", she asserted.

Real religion is the only real thing. Let's keep it real and do it right.

Please join my family in praying for the recovery of my son Yosef Ezra ben Devora. Good Shabbos. D Fox

A Thought on Parshios Acharei-Mos and Kedoshim

"...u'sh'martem atem..."
"...and you, you will observe my laws..." (18:26)

Given that the Holy Language of Hebrew conjugates gender into the tense of a word, it seems a little redundant to write "and you, you shall" since the verb sh'martem implies "you" will, as opposed to "they, or he, or she, or we, or I will." Besides, there are plenty of places in the Torah where the verse says "u'sh'martem" and similar second person plural future tense words without writing the pronoun "you." What deeper message awaits us here?The Chezkuni here (also on 20:24) offers a midrash. The double reinforcement of "you" is a statement of confidence: "just as you have already observed these laws, you will be continuing to observe them." The midrashic "proof" for this interpretation is found in Shir HaShirim 4:12. That verse says, "my daughter is a locked garden."

The Chezkuni explains this. Our people have a tradition of modesty. It was displayed by our matriarchs and our Avos, it was preserved during the exile to Egypt, and we have been known among the nations as a people who dress and speak and interact with a modest attire and demeanor. This has sustained us throughout many other exiles and wanderings. Chezkuni asserts that the Torah is saying here "you started with this practice" without being so commanded, so you will now continue to fulfill the practice and perform a mitzva.It started long ago in the garden, and now must continue.

This is an important thought. The drashos of the Ran (Rabbeinu Nissim) state that there were many practices which our earliest ancestors observed prior to the giving of the Torah. Some of these were later formulated as formal mitzvos and we then were bound and commanded to continue performing them. Many were never formally commanded, yet they remained implicit codes of conduct and actually are regarded as the fulfillment of Torah (d'oraisa) too.

The Jewish nation observes a standard of modesty, in deed and act as well as in self-presentation. It is supposed to come naturally to us, and it is also given as a commandment. It is meant to mark us among the nations of the world by setting a higher standard for ourselves. We are the "locked garden" who know about boundaries, about limits and about adhering to them.

I remember a visit with my British nieces and nephews on a visit to the home of my youngest sister in London. I was entertaining them with stories and jokes and songs from our childhood. At one point we were making up rhymes together when suddenly my niece Elisheva stopped, unsure of the meaning of a certain innocent word, and she said, "Uncle Dovid, I was going to try a rhyme to that but since I don't know what the word means, I had fear that it might not be proper and would sound impolite." I recall that she was about six years old at the time.

Such modesty does not come naturally these days. Whatever steps our early ancestors took to figure out the standards for proper conduct required careful study, self-awareness and sensitivity to what it is that HaShem expects of His people. As the Navi Micha (6:6-8) describes it, this quality is very much one of the foundations upon which we turn to HaShem and declare that we seek to do His will.

Back to the garden.

Good Shabbos and wishing my son Yosef Ezra ben Devora continued recovery. D Fox