Shabbat Nachamu

Va-et'chanan Deuteronomy 3:23–7:11

This week's commentary was written by Rabbi Mychal B. Springer, director of the Center for Pastoral Education and the Helen Fried Kirshblum Goldstein Chair in Professional and Pastoral Skills, JTS.

The dreaded has happened. The inconceivable has come to pass. The Temple has been destroyed. Our center is no more. Our sense of safety is shattered. The world is no longer familiar. We are in a place of disorientation. So this Shabbat we begin the hard work of consolation: Nachamu, nachamu ami ("Comfort, oh, comfort My people, Says your God" [Isa. 40:1]). These are the opening words of this week's haftarah portion. Each week, for seven weeks, we will receive another haftarah of consolation, until we reach Rosh Hashanah. The number seven conveys completeness, like the seven days of the week. Like the seven days of shiv'ah. Consolation cannot happen in one brief moment. It is a process, a journey. How is it that consolation does happen?

There are three verses in the haftarah that stand out as offering great insight into the dynamics of consolation:

A voice rings out: "Proclaim!"
Another asks, "What shall I proclaim?"
"All flesh is grass,
All its goodness like flowers of the field:
Grass withers, flowers fade
When the breath of the Lord blows on them.
Indeed man is but grass:
Grass withers, flowers fade—
But the word of our God is always fulfilled!" (Isa. 40:6-8)

These verses contain a dialogue between two voices. They can be understood as the voices of the Prophet and God, the voices of two angels, the voices of two people, or the conflicting voices inside a single individual.

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Shabbat Hazon

Devarim, Deuteronomy 1:1–3:22

This week’s commentary was written by Rabbi Daniel Nevins, Pearl Resnick Dean of The Rabbinical School and dean of the Division of Religious Leadership, JTS.

What is your vision of a righteous city? This is an important question, because this week is known as Shabbat Hazon, the Sabbath of Vision, and the vision offered by our prophets is that of a city that has gone astray, abandoning the path of righteousness. In our haftarah, the book of Isaiah opens with the chilling depiction of a “faithful city” (kiryah ne’emanah) that has become distorted into harlotry. What sins does Isaiah associate with such faithlessness? It is not ritual error but ethical failure that he decries. If so, then what would a righteous city look like? Is such a vision within our grasp?

Shabbat Hazon leads into the black fast of Tish’ah Be’Av in various ways. The opening chapters of Deuteronomy and Isaiah, which we read this week, set the stage for the calamity that will be described in horrific detail by the book of Lamentations. In Midrash Eikhah Rabbah, we read that three prophets used the language of Eikhah (how?!) to describe the sorrows of Israel. Moses, who saw the people in its glory, asked, “How can I bear their burden alone?” Isaiah, who saw Israel in its fallen state asked, “How did the faithful city become a harlot?” And the book of Lamentations, traditionally attributed to the prophet Jeremiah, saw Jerusalem destroyed and asked, “How did the great city become like a widow?”

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Mattot-Mas'ei

Numbers 30:2-36:13


This week's commentary was written by Dr. Alan Mintz, Chana Kekst Professor of Hebrew Literature in the Department of Jewish Literature, JTS

The Torah is replete with lists of every kind: the generations before and after Noah, the enumeration of the tribes and their chieftains in the desert, the catalogs of forbidden foods, the inventories of priestly garments. The book of Numbers, which begins with a census, is especially true to its name. The beginning of chapter 33, which opens Parashat Mas'ei (the second of the double portions read in the synagogue this week), presents one of the grandest lists of all: the forty-two stations of Israel's wandering from Ramses in Egypt to the steppes of Moab on the eve of the entry into the Promised Land. Although we may feel that we have heard all of these place names in earlier weekly readings, the fact is that a significant number of these stations (verses 19–30) are mentioned here for the first time. The uniqueness of this list is indicated by the fact that Moses is specifically instructed to record the names in writing. In many synagogues, a special singsong melody used by the Torah reader also makes this passage unique.

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Pinchas

Numbers 25:10−30:1

Pinhas in America?

The Torah portion deals with intermarriage, a problem we know all too well today.

By Rabbi Ismar Schorsch; reprinted with permission of the Jewish Theological Seminary for MyJewishLearning.com.

In 1962 I graduated rabbinical school and entered the army for a two-year stint as a chaplain. Such national service was then still required of all JTS graduates before they could take a pulpit. After completing chaplaincy school in New York, I drove to my first assignment at Fort Dix, New Jersey. I arrived in the late afternoon and decided to visit the Jewish chapel where I would preside without delay. That was my first mistake.

Outside the door paced an agitated, well-dressed gentleman in civilian clothes looking for a Jewish chaplain. I revealed my identity all too quickly and smugly, my second mistake. In the office I would occupy for less than a year (the army would reward my stellar work at Fort Dix by sending me to Korea), he unloaded on me an impassioned account about his daughter who was going to marry a young Greek in basic training at Fort Dix. I couldn’t tell exactly whether the father, a wealthy man from Connecticut, was furious because the kid was Christian or poor and uneducated. In fact, the father suspected him of seeking to marry his daughter for her money. He insisted that I call in the kid to disabuse him of his folly, and I, by now floundering in my inexperience, reluctantly agreed. To my surprise, the young man came when I summoned him and turned out to be good-looking and charming. Despite great discomfort, I carried out my futile task and never heard from him or his nemesis again.

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Balak

Numbers 22:2−25:9

Rabbi Jonathan Lipnick, Jewish Theological Seminary

Reading Parashat Balak along with Rashi, the medieval 12th-century French exegete par excellence, one quickly discovers how vilified Balaam is in Midrash. But not all biblical commentators side with Rashi. There's a fantastic chapter by Nehama Leibowitz (1905–1997) in Studies of Bamidbar entitled "Prophet or Sorcerer?" Rabbi Jacob Milgrom (1923–2010), too, has an article on the subject entitled "Balaam: Saint or Sinner?" in his extraordinary The JPS Torah Commentary: Numbers.

The biblical accounting of Balaam's behavior, without rabbinic interpretation, is rather straightforward. Balak, king of the Moabites, has asked Balaam, a non-Israelite sorcerer, to put a curse on Israel. Balak, aware that the Children of Israel have been blessed by God, hopes that a curse will allow the Moabites to be victorious in their battle against the Israelites. After several entreaties from Balak, along with permission from God and a stop along the way with God's angel, Balaam ends his journey at a mountaintop, where he sees from a distance the Children of Israel encamped. From this vantage point, Balaam proceeds to bless the Israelites four times (Num. 23:7-10, 18-24; 24:3-9, 15-24). It is some of the most beautiful poetry in all of biblical literature.

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Chukat

Numbers 19:1−22:1

Miriam–Water Under The Bridge?

Miriam's death should motivate us to recognize people today who provide nurture and support that often goes unnoticed.

By Rabbi Bradley Artson, provided by the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies, for MyJewishLearning.com

Careers of public figures take on a life of their own, ebbing and flowing with shifts in public opinion

and the latest values. One Jewish figure whose popularity is at an all-time high is the prophet Miriam, the sister of Moses and Aaron.

While featured prominently in the Torah, Miriam’s claim to fame always paled in the face of her more visible brothers. After all, Aaron was the first Kohen Gadol (high priest), the link between the Jewish people and their religion, and Moses was the intimate friend of God, transmitting sacred teachings to the people.

Compared to those two leaders, Miriam simply faded into the background. True, we celebrate her beautiful song at the shores of the Red Sea, but even that poem is overshadowed by Moses’ far-lengthier song. Today, Miriam’s fame rests less on any specific accomplishment and more on the fact that she was a woman.

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Korach

Numbers 16:1−18:32

To Serve With Distinction

Korah's rebellion was based on his inability to appreciate the value of diversity and distinctiveness.

By Rabbi Bradley Artson, provided by the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies, for MyJewishLearning.com
The rebellion of Korah against Moses and Aaron is painful to most Jews who read it, precisely because it is so complex and so timeless.  While we are trained to sympathize with Moses and his supporters by our upbringing and by Jewish tradition, it is difficult for anyone who is passionate about democracy not to become stirred by Korah’s powerful message.  Our Jewish loyalty seems pitted against our democratic commitments.  That conflict hurts.

Moses and Aaron have successfully led the Jewish tribes out of slavery in Egypt and through the dangers of the wilderness.  The life of the tribes is now relatively secure and comfortable.  God regularly speaks, through Moses, to the Jewish people, and the families live out their lives waiting to move into the Promised Land.

In the midst of this idyllic serenity, Korah rebels.  He resents having to follow Moses in all matters, and challenges him with the moving line: "All the community are holy, all of them, and the Lord is in their midst.  Why then do you raise yourselves above the Lord’s congregation?"

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