Parshat Ki Tetzei: What's a mitzvah? What's our mission?

Rabbi Philip Weintraub

Congregation Agudas Israel

9/17/16

How do we unite a list of disparate laws?

How do we unite a group of disparate people?

The answer is simple: We work towards shared purpose.  We work towards shared mission.

In our Torah, the mission was reaching Israel and building a new community.  Whether discussing the treatment of criminals, how to fight fairly, conduct business ethically, uphold societal norms, take care of the environment or remember the evils of Amalek, the 74 mitzvot found in this parsha focus on: teaching the people Israel how to live in Israel, morally, ethically, responsibly.

The rabbis are nervous about giving reasons and justifications for mitzvot.  If we know a mitzvah’s reason and origin, we are more likely to justify it away if the circumstances seem different.  For example, if we were to say that the prohibition on pork was to prevent trichinosis, does it apply when we have reliable ovens that can cook food thoroughly.  As Conservative Jews, we do not discard mitzvot willy-nilly, we know that kashrut--or at least avoiding pork, is a sign of Jewish identity, a covenant with God, a daily reminder of holiness through our eating choices.  As such, we have no need to discard the law, simply because one of its original rationales no longer applies.

There are numerous works on the rationales of mitzvot--some quite inspiring.  We speak about mitzvot as pathways to God, as ways of bringing holiness into our lives, as organizing principles.  I think about Steve Jobs wearing the same black turtleneck and jeans every single day--taking away some unnecessary choices gives us more creative energies for the rest of our day.  Taking time to pray and meditate, to thank God for the gifts of our lives on a regular basis makes us feel better.  So why do we have such a hard time with being told what to do?  Why do we as Americans put up such a fight about organizing our lives and our calendars according to someone or something else--GOD?

Powerfully, when we work on mitzvot together, we quickly build a community.  As Gil Troy, a Mcgill Professor and historian has argued: While some may say schwer zu sein a yid, it’s hard to be a Jew, when those outside our community look in, they sometimes say Mah Tovu ohalecha Yaakov--how wonderful are your tents o Jacob!  The organzing principles of our faith are not about faith at all--they are about action.  They are about getting together and building a cemetery, a school, a synagogue, finding kosher food.  When we were together on these endeavors, we find that common purpose. (http://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/no-it-is-not-that-hard-to-be-a-jew/#)

The challenge sometimes is what happens AFTER the building is done?  How do we keep working together?  The answer is simple--use our mitzvot as a guide.

The mitzvot in this parsha are not all about ritual.  They are not all about prayer.  They are about the details of living in a unified and cooperative society.  Ensuring justice, fairness, being decent people. One might argue many more of them are universal and not just for Jews!  As my colleague and friend, Rabbi Mark Greenspan said this week,

“I would suggest that while one doesn’t have to be Jewish to be a good person, one can't be a good Jew without being a good person. Goodness is the bottom line. Justice is the measure of being God fearing. Rituals mean nothing if they are not based on a solid foundation of compassion and goodness.”

What is unique about the Jewish tradition, something I bring up regularly is that the ritual and the interpersonal commandments are intertwined and interrelated.  We are not completely fulfilling our destiny as Jews if we ignore one or the other.  I love to remind us of the mitzvot ben adam l’havero, between individuals, because we need to know that we are already following most of the commandments.  Yet we cannot forget the mitzvot ben adam l’Makom, between humanity and God.  If we ignore the rituals all together, it does not make us half-Jewish, but we have lost an opportunity to connect.  Once again, I preach to the choir--you are all here--you are choosing to be part of and not apart from community.  By being here, you are demonstrating the importance of prayer and mitzvot in your lives!

Looking at various mission statements out there, the ones I like best return to recognizing the various combined goals of a synagogue.

• A house of prayer: aiding our members in a search for meaning in life, fulfilling the spiritual needs and longing of our Jewish community, providing a path that brings us closer to each other and to G-d;
• A house of study: supporting and fostering a community dedicated to Jewish knowledge, learning and living;
• A house of assembly: creating a welcoming home and sense of family for our members.
• An integral part of the foundation of K'lal Yisroel, the Jewish people, supporting Israel and all good causes with support, both financial and otherwise.

In short, the way we become a community is by choosing to make ourselves one--by working together to uphold the values of God, Torah and Israel, living the mitzvot both ritually and communally.

Are we talking about life or death?

The parshah entitled Hayay Sarah opens with the death of the title character.  It ends with the death of Avraham and the line of Ishmael.  In between we have the shidduch and marriage of Yitzhak and Rivkah.  One could go the easy route and say the parsha is named because the first significant words are “Hayay Sarah,” but I think there is more to the name.

As a people of books, of manuscripts, of letters, we are a people of words.  We have rules of how to speak to each other, of how to write to each other, and even what words we can use of each other.  The Hafetz Hayim’s fame began when he wrote a book on how best to speak to one another, how to prevent libel and even gossip.  In Pirkei Avot, we are taught that when we cite someone’s words b’shem omro, in the name of the person that spoke them, we bring about the redemption of the world.  Before the creation of copyright law, Hebrew books often had extensive curses on the one who might reprint material without the permission of the author or original publisher.  Words are important to Jews.

When we speak about death in Jewish communities, we often avoid the subject directly.  We might hear someone is “niftar” or has departed to their eternal home.  We speak of olam haba, the world to come, or Gan Eden, the Garden of Eden.  Cemeteries rarely have the word cemetery in them.  In some communities, they are called “Gates of Life” or some such euphemism (just as in the Talmud when it says an evil person is blessed, it really means cursed!)

In our parshah, twenty verses discuss the negotiation of a burial place for Sarah, but sixty-seven discuss the betrothal and wedding of Rivkah and Yitzhak.  I was reminded recently of the debate in the Talmud about when a funeral procession and a wedding procession meet at an intersection, who gets priority?  The answer is the wedding procession, just as it seems in this parshah--in Judaism, we spend our lives thinking about life, not death.

In my mind, the parshah was named deliberately, Hayay Sarah is about Sarah’s legacy.  It is about how the good she did during her life translated into the good of her children.  Her husband took care of her remains, lovingly, and then ensured that she lived on, by arranging Yitzhak’s marriage and ensuring grandchildren.

After Avraham ensured his son’s legacy, he looked towards his own happiness.  He married again and had more children, yet was careful to make sure that Yitzhak gained his actual inheritance, his spiritual legacy.  Rashi notes that his second wife was actually his first mistress, Hagar.  Perhaps she was renamed to demonstrate her new potential and new covenant with God, just like Avraham and Sarah.

It is telling that the penultimate section of the parshah is the temporary reunification of Yitzhak and Yishmael.  Having the two sons bury their father, together, demonstrates how death can interact with life, creating the family reunions that we neglect to plan.

Concluding with Yishmael’s descendants teaches that God’s promises are fulfilled.  Just as Yitzhak’s descendants complete God’s promises to Avraham, Yishmael’s descendants complete God’s promises to Hagar.

All in all, just as the parshah is entitled, we speak of life, not death.  This is truly for the best.

Over the last three weeks, I have discussed the practices and observance of Shabbat in a series of classes.  In the weeks, to come I will be meeting on Tuesday nights (with the exception of the Interfaith Thanksgiving, to look at some texts from the Talmud, to discover what Talmud is and to look at the intimate discussions and relationships which continue to shape our lives today.  Simply put, as Jews, even more than the Bible, the Talmud is the source that deals with our daily lives, and yet for many of us, it is a text with which we are almost wholly unfamiliar.  We are not biblical Jews, not Karaites, but rabbinic Jews.  Discussing EVERY subject under the sun from the ratio of pi, to whether it is ok to shave your body hair, to what sacrifices would we offer if the Temple were in existence, to love, marriage, divorce, what we eat, how to sleep, what to do with our lives and so on and so on and so on.  The debates reveal differing schools of thought on biblical interpretation and human interactions.  To give one powerful example we discussed over the last three weeks, the Torah says in the Ten Commandments Observe and Keep the Shabbat.  It tells us not to work on Shabbat or Festivals, yet never clearly defines what work is.  The Talmud then has two books entirely devoted to how one can keep Shabbat.  

In my rabbinate, what I strive to teach is that every moment is an opportunity for life and for Jewish choices.  Some people don’t quite follow the complicated debates of the Talmud. Why do they get so nitty gritty?  Why are they focused on every little detail?  Don’t they have anything better to do?  In my daily study I sometimes get bogged down with texts that seem less relevant to my life--yet I try to push on.  Why?  Because what the rabbis were doing was struggling with all of the big questions.  Life isn’t lived just in the theoretical.  It’s lived in all of the individual daily moments--the crazy moments, the good moments, the bad moments.  The moments when we hear bad news and the ones where we celebrate.  Life is the nitty gritty.  I invite you to join with me in the next few weeks--argue with me and we will learn together!