Better to Lose One Member

I want to talk about a very simple commandment today. “When you build a new house, make a wall for your roof, and you will not bring blood upon your house if anyone falls from it.” Deuteronomy 22:8

This only applies to flat roofs in personal dwellings, so for most of us, it won’t apply strictly as it appears here. A few Spanish style houses still have flat roofs, and they require a wall at least ten handbreadths high and strong enough for a person to lean against it without it falling over. (Mishneh Torah, Sefer Nezikim, Rotseakh ushmirath nefesh 11:3)

If we take this as a general principle, though, it applies to a lot more of us in a lot more ways. Rambam does take this as a general principle, and gives the example of building a wall around a well, or any other place that a person might fall from or into (Mishneh Torah, Sefer Nezikim, Rotseakh ushmirath nefesh 11:4). R. Israel Meir Kagan z”tzl expands this to anything dangerous in your house. This could be a vicious dog, a place where a person is likely to trip, or anything else that might endanger someone (The Concise Book of Mitzvoth, positive commandment 75).

All of this is an extension of the commandment to preserve life. It is important for us to provide for the life and safety of others. There may be a tendency sometimes to think of that as “their responsibility,” but the Torah teaches us to take responsibility for each other, making us stronger as a group than we were as individuals.

We can also expand this principle in another direction. R. Yeshua says, “If your right eye causes you to sin, pluck it out and throw it away; it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell.” (Matthew 5:29) The idea here is that if something consistently causes us to sin, we should take it out of our lives. If every time I talk to certain people I end up slandering someone else, I should avoid talking to those people until I can control myself.

The Dry Bones of Ephraim

And the hand of HaShem was upon me, and he brought me out by the spirit of HaShem and brought me to rest in the midst of the valley, and it was full of bones.” Ezekiel 37:1

This story is part of the readings for the Sabbath in the middle of Unleavened Bread, and it reminded me of a story that I’d forgotten. I think this story is very important for Messianics to take seriously. The sages wonder among themselves who these dry bones were. Several answers are given by different rabbis, and each one has a significance that is more theological than historical. We shouldn’t confuse these stories for history, they are meant to teach us a lesson.

The one that struck me as being particularly relevant to us is told by Rav, the first of the Talmudic sages. In BT Sanhedrin 92b, Rav repeats an old story, saying that the dry bones are the remains of a group of Ephriamites who left Egypt thirty years early because they miscalculated the date of the exodus. They knew that God had said Israel would be in Egypt 400 years, and they calculated that starting from the moment that God spoke these words. 400 years after God made that promise, to the day, they left Egypt.

What these Ephriamites didn’t know is that it would actually come 400 years after the birth of Isaac. This entire group died. This is the reason that “Ephriam their father mourned for them many days, and his brothers came to console him.” I Chronicles 7:22

After Spring Break, on the drive back to Baylor my sister and I noticed a sign that screamed at us about the end of the world. I don’t remember the date or the website it gave, but if you went to their website these people were serious. I wanted to believe they were kidding, but they weren’t. And I’m sorry, but what does the Mayan calendar have to do with anything?

All of the clever calculations of hundreds of people before us have been wrong, and there is no particular reason to believe that the new ones we come up with will be better. This story serves as a clear warning about apocalypticism. Maybe the world is going to end tomorrow, but setting dates and taking extreme measures to “prepare” is only going to get us into trouble.

Instead, we should live our lives, we should work to make the world a better place, we should enjoy the world and the life we’ve been given. The end of the world isn’t our concern as long as there is hunger, war, and disease.

Take no Pleasure

Yeah, so I'm going to join the crowd of voices talking about Osama Bin Laden's death last night. I know, I know, you've already heard all there is to be said on the subject. I know my friends and I watched the live stream of Obama's campaign speech afterwards which is, I suppose, the official word on the matter.

Really, I don't want to talk about this event in particular. I think most people will agree that Osama was pretty high on the list of generally rotten characters, but then again, I tend to put myself pretty high on that list, too. (I have self-loathing issues. What can I say?) What I really want to take a minute to talk about is the disturbing, though understandable, reaction to his death that I saw a lot of people having. People were happy.

Like I said, I think this reaction is natural, but I also think that we can do better than what comes naturally. I think that is the whole point of being human: having the ability to overcome what comes naturally. The power to know what is instinctual and to choose not to do it is what separates between man and beast.

The sages tell a story about what happened after the Reed Sea crossing. According to this midrashic tale, when the angels saw the Egyptians drowning in the sea, they began to rejoice. HaShem promptly rebuked them, and reminded them of what Ezekiel would say, "As I live, says the Lord GOD, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live; turn back, turn back from your evil ways; for why will you die, O house of Israel?" Ezekiel 33:11 (RSV) If we read the Song of the Sea closely, in fact, the Israelites don't rejoice in the death of the Egyptians, they rejoice in the might of God.

It is not our job to rejoice when any person dies, no matter if they are our friend or our enemy. Remember what R. Yeshua taught, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you (Matt. 5:44). God has revealed to us through His Torah that the thing He values most of all is life. This is why we have the law of "pikuakh nafesh," or "preserving life" which teaches us to violate every commandment except idolatry, blasphemy, and adultery in order to preserve a life.

On the other hand, I think that the midrash, in telling this story, intentionally puts the rejoicing in the mouths of the angels. It's not that angels are actually prone to this kind of sin, but that the sages told the story this way in order to make a point: this is an easy sin to fall into. Even the best among us, the "angels" if you will, are prone to it. That still doesn't make it okay.

Maybe it's a good thing that this all happened on Yom HaShoah. Since it is still the month of Nisan, the sages don't permit mourning in this month, however, the generally accepted date for mourning those who died in the Shoah (Holocaust) is the tenth of Tevet (this year, 5 January, 2012). I encourage everyone, next year on the tenth of Tevet, when you are mourning the victims of the Shoah, also pray for the soul of Osama Bin Laden.

Holiness

There is one commandment that is arguably more inclusive than any other single commandment in the Torah. “You shall sanctify yourselves and be holy, for I, HaShem, am your God.” Leviticus 20:7

This commandment goes beyond simple specific rules of exactly how to lead our lives. This is an entire philosophy of action. We should behave in a way that is representative of God, and of the Torah, and of the Jewish people. According to Sifri, D’varim 11:22, we should be gracious because God is gracious, we should be compassionate because God is compassionate, etc.

Peter also gives us a good insight into this commandment, “Therefore gird up your minds, be sober, set your hope fully upon the grace that is coming to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ. As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, be holy yourselves in all your conduct; since it is written, ‘You shall be holy, for I am holy.’” I Peter 1:13-16 (RSV)

Even when there is no specific commandment, we should make sure that we act in a way that is consistent with the ideals of the Torah. As Peter points out, this involves keeping in a particular state of mind, not being manipulated just by our personal wants, but by our sense of right and wrong.

“They are to be holy to their God, and they shall not profane the name of their God, for they bring near the offerings of Hashem, the bread of their God, so they must be holy.” Leviticus 21:6 This verse is directed specifically at the priesthood, but it seems like there is a broader application here aswell. The reason for Israel to be holy like God is holy is so that we can serve God. Habakkuk 1:13 says that God is too pure to look at sin.

The idea of “holiness” in Hebrew, as I’m sure many of you already know, means to be set apart. We could think about it in terms of the special china. You can’t use special china for everyday use. It’s reserved for special dinners, like Thanksgiving, or when there’s important company. Likewise, we are reserved for special occasions. As members of God’s covenant with Abraham there are certain things that we don’t do, and certain things that we do, simply because we are set apart for those special deeds.

A Home in Time.

First, I want to talk a little about counting the omer, and the observances that come along with it, and then I hope you won’t mind if I get a little more philosophical and talk about the reason we have these kinds of observances.

It is written, “And you will count for yourself beginning after the Sabbath, from the day that you bring the omer of the wave offering, seven weeks should be completed.” (Leviticus 23:15) This is why, in our liturgy, every day between Passover and Pentecost we recite “Today is ____ day(s) of the Omer, which are _____ week(s) of the Omer.” This comes after the evening prayers, so that it’s at the beginning of the day (R. Israel Meir Kagan, The Concise Book of Mitzvoth, positive commandment 26).

The “Sabbath” mentioned here is understood by the sages to refer to the festval Sabbath, which is the day of Passover. They give several different reasons why it is not the day after the weekly Sabbath instead of the festival sabbath, but the most self-evident one is given by R. Yose the Galilean, “Does Scripture say ‘On the morrow after the Sabbath that is in the Passover week?’ It merely says, ‘On the morrow after the Sabbath’; and the year is full of Sabbaths, then go and find out which Sabbath is meant.” (Babylonian Talmud, Menahoth 65a) In other words, if it isn’t after the Passover Sabbath, we don’t have any way of knowing which Sabbath it is supposed to follow.

In Temple times, mourning was restricted and the period between Passover and Pentecost was reserved as a time of joy (Mishna, Moed Qatan 3), however, now the first thirty three days of the Omer are observed as a time of semi-mourning in which we do not hold weddings, cut our hair, or listen to live music. This is to commemorate the death of R. Akiva and his disciples by plague during these weeks.

But why do we observe this kind of counting, and these odd semi-mourning practices for people who died two thousand years ago? Why do we keep festivals at all? It’s for the same reason that we build houses. We want a place to go back to where we know we belong, a place that we can center our lives around. Travelling and exploring are good, but at the end of the day it’s good to have a place to go back to, to know where we belong. The festivals do that for us in more ways that one.

First, the festivals set us apart from other members of the population. We know where we belong in society because of the unique practices that make us who we are. They also give us a connection to the past, a reminder of those who have gone before, and that we are a part of the same cycle as they were. Think of it as our home in time. If our houses are homes in space, holidays are homes in time. The rest of the days of the year we may wander about, trying new things, but on the festivals we return home, and we rise above the constraints of time to reconnect with all of our relatives who have celebrated them before.