Parashat Shofetim- Community Responsibility

Al pi shnayim eidim o shlosha eidim yumat hameit lo yumat al pi eid echad. Yad haeidim tihyeh bo varishonah lahamito v’yad kol-ha’am ba’acharonah uviarta hara mikirbekha.

On the word of two witnesses or three witnesses shall he who is to die be put to death, not on the word of one witness. The hand of the witnesses will be upon him first to put him to death, and the hand of the entire people afterward, and you will put away the evil from within your midst. (D’varim 17:6-7)

Jews throughout the centuries have had issues with the death penalty. From the earliest commentaries the rabbis have been uncomfortable with permitting a death penalty. According to Talmud Sanhedrin (41a) Jewish courts ceased the death penalty by the year 30 CE. Another report a few pages later says it was only carried out when a Sanhedrin sat during the time of the Temple, thus ending by 70 CE. Mishnah Makkot (1:10) states, “A Sanhedrin that puts a man to death once in seven years is called destructive. Rabbi Eliezer Ben Azariah says: even once in seventy years. Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Tarfon say: had we been in the Sanhedrin none would ever have been put to death. Rabban Simeon Ben Gamaliel says: they would have multiplied shedders of blood in Israel."

Even the Torah, which not only permits, but requires the death penalty, limits the occasions and the circumstances in which the death penalty can be used. At a time when law was controlled by the whims of kings or overlords, the idea of a balanced, equal justice was completely new. Even today, when trials can turn on the testimony of professional expert witnesses, a balanced and fair trial cannot always be assured. The Torah requires witnesses to the act. The Mishnah expanded this, requiring, not only witnessing the act, but also that the witnesses warned the accused that the act he was about to commit was punishable by death. These witnesses must be separately accountable. The must know what their words will cause, and they must be willing and able to carry out the punishment. Once they began the execution, the community must also bear the responsibility for the execution. No one is exempt. Even so, As Shimeon Ben Gamaliel notes, justice must be done. Without it chaos reigns.

How many of us could follow through on such a responsibility? How many of us fully understand and accept the responsibility of our actions? We all have comments on the perversion of justice, but how many of us seek to be part of it. Perhaps the extreme example of responsibility for execution upon the entire community is a reminder to us all that we must be fully aware and involved as a community. We are all responsible for each other, through the good and the bad. Parashat Shoftim is all about community. It reminds us of our responsibilities to each other, to our community, and to the greater world around us.

Parashat Re'eih- Making the Lesson Stick

Ki im-el-hamakom asher-yivchar A’donai Eloheikhem mikol-shivteikhem lasoom et-shmo sham l’shikhno tid’r’shu uvata shamah…. Va’a’khaltem sham lifnei A’donai Eloheikhem u’s’machtem b’khol mislach yedkhem atem uvateikhem asher beirakh’kha A’donai Elohekha. Lo ta’asoon k’khol aser anachnu osim po hayom ish kol hayasher b’einav…. Va’a’vartem et-haYardein vishavtem ba’aretz asher-A’donai Eloheikhem manchil etchem…. Ki im-lifnei A’donai Elohekha tokhlenu bamakom asher yivchar A’donai Elohekha bo: atah uvinkha uvitekha v’av’d’kha va’amatekha v’haleivi asher bish’arekha…

Therefore to the place that A’donai your God will choose from all the tribes to put His name there, you will seek his dwelling and come there…. And you will eat there before A’donai your God, and you will rejoice in all that you put your hand to: you and your households where A’donai your God has blessed you. Do not do as we have done here today, every man [doing] what he chooses in his own eyes…. When you cross over the Jordan and settle in the land that A’donai your God chose for you…. Thus before A’donai your God you will eat in the place that A’donai your God will choose: you and your son and your daughter and your servant and your maid and the Levi that is within your gates… (D’varim 12:5,7-8, 10, 18)

From the time the Israelites leave Egypt they go through many transitions. As a post-slavery people they are learning to be individuals. They must learn to think on their own, as well as for and about themselves. A slave cannot care for him/herself. He must be at available for his master, and must therefore subjugate his own needs, desires and wants. The generation born in the desert is a generation that no longer needed to do this. Rather, they needed to focus on the opposite. The desert generation is a selfish one. Out of the needs surrounding survival in a wilderness, each individual must be self-focused. Manna serves for an entire meal. It is individually gathered, by all who are able, each person for him/herself. Additionally, as they would have in Egypt and before, each family maintained its own altar, worshipped in its own way, and had only a personal relationship with God disconnected from the rest of the community.

Now the Israelites stand on the verge of another transition. They are about to cross the Jordan and enter Israel. To flourish as a people in a new land, no longer nomadic, they will have to grow together. Just as children are self-centered, teens in their transition to adulthood even more so, in the wilderness the Israelites are in their adolescence. It is time to grow into a mature people. They must move beyond this self-centeredness. No longer are they to remain in their own dwellings, but rather to join with the community. Their relationship to God also needs to move beyond the individual. They have to learn to care about the community and to provide for others.

This is not a lesson that always sticks. Over and over the Israelites must learn to do this. They’re human. Humans are, by our very nature, self-centered. We want what we want, and we sometimes forget about others. Especially in the weeks between Tisha B’Av and Elul, the period leading up to the High Holy Days, it’s appropriate that we are reminded to care about others, not just the others who are close to us, our children, our family, but those outside our immediate circle. We need to care for those over whom we have control, in biblical terms- the servant and the maid, but in modern terms- employees, store keepers, service workers (police, fire fighters, TTC workers). We also need to maintain our communal connections. As the Israelites spread throughout the land, the importance of coming together for worship and meals and s’machot becomes even more important. With our busy lives the synagogue can be our center, the place where God chose for us to maintain our ties to each other and to God.

Apple to Apples and My Parents

Gavi, Keren, & I visited my parents this summer.  Jesse was at camp, and Sean was with the Coast Guard (that's another story)  Unlike most visits, we planned nothing.  This was a visit visit, no trips to NYC or Philadelphia, no museums or historical sites.  It was wonderfully relaxing.  I changed light bulbs, removed screens for window cleaning, and put them back.  I helped cook, shop, and garden.  I was the resident handyman.  The kids plays on their computers and read books.  My mother set up an art table.  They caught fireflies in a jar, and observed them before letting them go.  We hunted for bull frogs in the pond nearby, and watched the local heron do the same.  Gavi & I played catch.  I walked.  Keren swam.

We also played games.  My father never plays board games.  He doesn't have the patience for it.  It's never been an issue, just a fact.  However, this trip Gavi decided that everyone, including Papa Bruce, had to play Apples to Apples.  My father also likes to indulge his grandchildren in anything he considers reasonable.  This include ice cream for meals, Coke as the only beverage, and Pringles and chocolate for dessert.  He tried to say no, but Gavi was adamant.

Here's how you play:
    Each player gets 7 red apple cards, each with a noun.  The judge, a position which rotates among the players, draws a green apple, or adjective, card, placing it face up on the table.  Each player then chooses a noun to "match" the green apple from his/her hand.  The judge chooses the best match.  However, it's not about sense.  It's about the whims of the judge.  Is the match funny, creative, or simply bizarre.  My kids think "bacon" always wins.  It must be a kashrut thing.  The winner of the hand keeps the green apple card.  The winner has to gather a certain number of green apples.

It's a fun game, especially played with my parents.  My mother is literal, choosing the most sensible match, which almost always loses.  My father showed a talent for the bizarre, and quickly became the favorite and the champion, keeping us all laughing aloud.  Gavi insisted we play over and over again.  I look forward to adding Jesse & Sean to this mix during Sukkot.

Falling With Style

Gavi has always been the most physical of our children.  He is the daredevil, the speed demon, and the thug.  He usually sports a couple of bruises, not to mention the scars he's already accumulated.  He's had more black eyes than the rest of us combined (excepting me.  I had a tendency towards them as a kid, but only in the weirdest of circumstances).  Amazingly though, Gavi has never sent us to the emergency room... until now.

At age 3+ Jesse fell from his dresser, where he had been separating his carnivorous dinosaurs from his herbivorous dinosaurs, and broke his arm.  At age 4 Keren rolled off a toboggan and broke her leg.  Both of these injuries were common childhood accidents with predictable breaks.  But predictable and common are not good enough for Gavi.  Oh no!  Gavi is dapper, classy, and unique.  Gavi falls with style.

After an amazing session at camp this summer (just hours after Sean & I left camp), Gavi and a friend decided that a raid on his sister's cabin, just to knock on the windows and scare the girls, would be a great idea.  They snuck around the back of the cabin, pounded on the wall and window, and turned to run.  That cabin abuts a sheer rock face, and the camp eruv** (or maybe just a clothesline, but Gavi said eruv) runs behind it.  Gavi clotheslined himself on the eruv, giving himself a rope burn to the neck, and swung out under it, raising himself high enough that when he fell to the ground on his back he fractured his clavicle.  I can picture it like something out of a muppet movie.

It's never good when school or camp calls home, especially on the last morning after the busses were supposed to depart.  It's worse when it's the camp doctor.  Surprising it is not.

**Eruv is a ritual fence that defines a neighborhood, allowing Jews to carry certain objects on Shabbat by creating a shared private domain encompassing private and public areas.

Summer Blogging

I always think that summer will somehow be a bit slower, a bit mellower.  I think there will be more time, and I'll catch up on the things I've let slide.

One definition of insanity is doing the same thing and expecting a different result.  I guess I'm insane.

Yes, lots does get done, but there's always so much more.  The garden overwhelms.  There's clearing out of school supplies and old clothes.  There's preparing for camp, and then unpacking from camp.  Sean is usually away for 2-3 weeks, and so there's single-parenting on site, and always a visit to grandparents, plus our time teaching at Ramah.

Now, summer has flown by.  There's still a pile of stuff on the basement floor (from last summer), and at least 12 loads of laundry (to be done) in the garage, the aftermath of camp.  Oh well, there's still two weeks.