Category: Bible

A Talmudic Exposition: Men in Black

Posted on by Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

Homosexuality most likely existed even in the ancient rabbinic communities. The rabbis were undoubtedly familiar with Greek  and Roman culture, where homosexuality was considered a perfectly acceptable lifestyle. [1]

Although the Sages worried about their students sexually acting out,  they pragmatically suggested that if one could not control one’s sexual “appetite,” he should wear dark clothes and go to a place where nobody knows him and do whatever his heart desires, “rather than profane the name of Heaven openly.”[2]

Traditional commentaries tend to think the rabbis are referring to heterosexual sex, but this assumption is unwarranted. How do we know that the rabbis were not also alluding to homosexual lay people, or perhaps more specifically–scholars?! A person’s sexual appetite surely is not limited to just those looking for heterosexual sex, and this point ought to be fairly obvious. In Talmudic times, the Sages knew they could not realistically micromanage their followers or especially their colleagues; they feared that the greater the scholar, the greater likelihood would be his disgrace.

It seems to me that the rabbis feared that a homosexual scholar might prove to be a source of embarrassment and scandal if he acted out his urges within the local community. Regardless of the specific context,  one thing seems fairly clear: there are people who cannot or will not control their libido–regardless of their sexual preferences.[3] For such people, the rabbis offered a practical way out so as to preserve their community’s dignity. Continue reading “A Talmudic Exposition: Men in Black” →

Why is homosexuality described as an “abomination”?

Posted on by Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

I think within the Halachic world there has been a remarkable redefinition of many of the more traditional attitudes concerning the congenital homosexual. Traditionally, most biblical translations render  tôʿēbâ as “abomination.”

According to Etymology Online, the noun “abomination”  is a 14th term term that means: “feeling of disgust, hatred, loathing,” from O.Fr. abomination,which in turn derives from the  Latin word abominationem (nom. abominatio) “abomination,” from abominatus, pp. of abominari “shun as an ill omen,” from ab– “off, away from” + omin-, stem of omen. Its meaning was intensified by the folk etymology derivation from L. ab homine “away from man,” hence rendering it as, “beastly.”

Thus, abomination is synonymous with  hatred, corruption, and depravity. The Latin root corresponds to the Hebrew term  tôʿēbâ derives from the Hebrew verb  tʿb “to hate” or “abhor,” but the original biblical text of Lev. 18:22  does not explain why homosexuality is so abhorrent.

Aside from its obvious association with homosexuality, tôʿēbâ also has a distinctly religious and idolatrous connotation as in Isa. 44:19, or even for a specific pagan deity, as in 2 Kgs. 23:13 where Milcom is called “the abomination of the Ammonites.” Until recently, it was supposed that homosexual behavior was associated with cultic prostitution. [1]

The distinguished British biblical scholar Gordon Wenham explains:

“Since male prostitutes were sometimes castrated and often took part in ceremonies flaunting their effeminacy, it may well be that aversion to homosexuality partially explains the ban on castrated men participating in the public assembly, or on wearing women’s clothes. The latter is described as ‘an abomination to the LORD’ (Deut. 23:1; 22:5). It could well be that the law is banning anything suggestive of homosexual practice  . . .” [2]

However, most modern biblical scholars doubt whether there cultic male prostitutes existed in ancient Israel. Despite the reticence of the modern scholars, given the carnivalesque quality of the ancient fertility rites, homosexual prostitutes most likely played a role alongside with the female prostitutes of antiquity. It seems doubtful their male counterparts would have been excluded.

If the Mesopotamian legal codes are of any relevance to the passage in Lev. 18:22, we may be able to decipher the Torah’s real meaning that the ban against homosexuality may well be referring to (a) father and son incest (as mentioned in the Hittite codes) (b) homosexual rape (as spelled out in the Middle Assyrian Codes), (c) male pedophilia, (d) castrating a male for sexual exploitation.

Bear in mind that ancient Israel was the only civilization to have formulated such a proscription against homosexuality. Indeed, the Talmud in BT Sanhedrin 54b interprets the word “zachor” to also include male child. The word “zachor” in the Bible frequently means “male child.” [3] Continue reading “Why is homosexuality described as an “abomination”?” →

Where Moses differed from Aristotle . . .

Posted on by Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

Whenever examining the history of slavery in the Bible, it is always fascinating to contrast it with other views found in the ancient world. When we look specifically at the writings of Aristotle, in his Athenian Constitution and in his work on Politics, one discovers that the great Athenian philosopher believed that some people are only fit for subjugation, while others are naturally destined for dominance and rule.

Slavery, argues Aristotle, is fact of nature—regardless how  one wishes to rationalize it. The slave is nothing more than an animated tool, to be used or disposed of at the whim of the master, much like a ship captain uses a crew and the ships rudders.

And so it was in ancient Rome, where 4/5 of the population were considered, “slaves.”

When we look at the parsha this week, several aspects of biblical slavery strike the critical eye. To begin with the Hebrew slave is never the property of the owner. He is his own person. The master is entitled to benefit from his labor only for a period of six years. Moreover, according to the book of Deuteronomy, the slave is entitled to severance pay in the form of clothing, food, and money when he leaves. Slavery is far from an ideal; it is at best a temporary stop measure to help the Israelite slave repay debt to his creditors. The laws governing slaves also comes with numerous other limitations.

• It is forbidden to give an Israelite a demeaning jobs (“You shall not compel them to serve in menial work; you shall not rule him with rigor” (Lev.39, 46). A master must always respect the slave’s dignity as a human being.

• A slave’s physical needs must be addressed by his master “He has it good with you” (Deut. 15:12-15), which the Sages interpret to mean providing food, drink, and even conjugal relations. Even when a slave leaves, the master is required to provide him with the necessary means to make a new life so he will not return to his previous impoverished condition, “you shall weight him but shall weight him down with gifts from your flock and threshing floor and wine press, in proportion to the blessing the LORD, your God, has bestowed on you” (Deut.  15:12).

• One must be so attentive to a slave’s needs that if there is one pillow in the house it must be given to the slave, a point which led the Sages to say: whoever buys a slave has bought himself a master. The same applies no less to food; if the owner has white vs. dark bread, the slave always gets the superior quality bread. Subsequent halachic rulings insist that a master is obligated to even take care of the slave’s family, if he was married–at no extra cost to the slave. Continue reading “Where Moses differed from Aristotle . . .” →

Adding Misogyny to a Modern List of the “Seven Deadly Sins”

Posted on by Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

Yesterday, I began teaching a new miniseries at St. Ambrose College on the Seven Deadly Sins. With thirty + students in the class, we had some great discussions. One of the assignments I gave the students was to think about composing a more modern list of the Seven Deadly Sins. Well, I started composing my own list and at the chief of the list today, I would have to say misogyny probably is one of the most serious sins of our age–and who could deny its ubiquitous effects?

In Turkey today, the Turkish police discovered a grizzly sight.  They discovered the body of a young 16 year old girl who was buried alive by her relatives in the city of Adiyaman, southeastern Turkey. Her name for the moment remains for now, anonymous. The police found her body in a  sitting position with her hands tied, in a two-metre hole dug under a chicken pen outside her home in Kahta. Police believe it was an honor killing because she “shamed” her family by talking to teenage boys. So far, the father and and grandfather  have been arrested and held in custody pending trial.  The girl’s mother was arrested but was later released. An autopsy shows that she was alive and conscious as she was being buried. Even more shocking is the fact that 200 such honor killings take place in Turkey a year. According to the United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) estimates that the annual worldwide total of honor-killing victims may be as high as 5,000, however even these statistics may not reveal the actual number of cases since most families who commit these crimes do not  exactly volunteer information to the local census Bureau.

When I discussed the incident with my good friend named Gloria, who lives in San Fransisco, she made several some poignant remarks relevant to our story.

“ What punishment was given to the boys who she supposedly consorted with? Probably nothing…fits right in with what I was saying about how men feel they have to control women at any cost…even to destroy one’s own child if she gives any appearance of impropriety. No issue is as important to men as that of controlling the sexuality or what passes for the sexuality of women…I got that message loud and clear when the orthodox rabbi once told me to stop singing…you probably remember how that ended up…I told the imperialistic rabbi at a boy’s hair cutting event I attended once (I also recall how he likened the boy’s hair to the first fruits. Really? Since when is hair a fruit?!) to wear ear plugs or to leave if he could not stand how he was aroused by the sound of my voice. It is always the men who want to control the women. As far as charm goes, these men have nothing to worry about, for it is highly unlikely any women will find these men the least bit appealing. ”

My friend Gloria also thinks one of the reasons why men hate women so much in these cultures is because men are wholly dependent upon women for their lives. Without a mother, they could not exist; they depend upon a mother’s care for the most vulnerable part of their lives. In addition, a woman’s sexual ability far exceeds a male, making these men feel inferior in so many other ways. So, they commit themselves to controlling the feminine because they resent their dependency on women. The image of God as “Father,” may indirectly contribute the exploitation of women, according to some scholars.

Carl G. Jung writes that every man has a feminine aspect to his personality that is in touch with the  inner feminine side of a man he refers to as the “anima,”that is always present in the unconscious of the male. The “anima,” stands in contrast to the animus, which represents masculine characteristics. Assertive women, according to Jung, are generally more in touch with the masculine aspect of their hidden personalities.

Misogyny is a transcultural and transhistorical phenomena. Among many religious societies, we see how gender barriers tend to be reified and rigid. Men are men, and women are women; a psychological integration of the genders is considered taboo because it is so threatening to the  diminished male ego.  Consequently, when we observe the conflicts in Israel between the Haredi, Hassidic communities and the secular world, in almost every instance we find men attempting to control the women of their lives; weak people with puny egos will always try to exert power over people they perceive to be “weaker” than themselves. Continue reading “Adding Misogyny to a Modern List of the “Seven Deadly Sins”” →

A British Synagogue Bans a Famous Hassidic Text!

Posted on by Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

As of late, I have taken interest in reading the British Jewish news. After perusing through a number of articles, I came across a fascinating new-story. It isn’t every day a synagogue bans a classical Jewish book, but in one of Britain’s largest synagogues, that’s exactly what happened.  Several students at an adult education class took offense to a mystical tract on self-improvement, better known as the “Tanya,” because of “racist” comments found in its early chapters.  For newcomers, the Tanya is the Bible of the Lubavitcher movement. This book was composed toward the last half of the 18th century, at a time when Russian Jews struggled mightily against the czarist governments who showed little love or tolerance when it came to the Jews. Despite the questionable passages we are about to read, it was one of the 18th century’s first self-help books and most of its teachings are for the most part fairly appealing.

Here are the controversial passages that have created the controversy this past October.

In the Tanya.  the author attempts to explain why the souls of Jews are different from the gentiles: “The explanation of this matter is according to what the Rabbi Chaim Vital OBM wrote … Every Jew, whether righteous or wicked, has two souls, as it says, ‘And the souls I have made’ — that is, two souls: one soul deriving from the side of the kelipa and the side that is antithetical to holiness… also naturally good character traits that are found in every Jew, such as mercifulness and charitable deeds, stem from it, for in a Jew, the soul of this kelipa derives from kelipat noga which also contains good…But it is not the case concerning Gentile souls, for they stem from other impure kelipot which contain no good…and the second soul of the Jew is surely part of G-d on high…” [1]

And shortly afterward, the author adds, “The kelipot are divided into two levels…the lower level consists of three impure and completely evil kelipot which contain no good whatsoever … from there the souls of the Gentiles are influenced and drawn, as are the bodies and the souls of all impure animals which are forbidden to eat…However, the vital animalistic soul in the Jews, which stems from the kelipa…and the souls of pure animals, beasts, birds, and fish which are permitted to eat…are influenced and drawn from the second level of the klipot…which is called kelipat noga…and the majority of it is evil, combined with a slight amount of good…”[2]

As I have pointed out in earlier posts, it is the nature of oppressed peoples to bolster their self-esteem and image by putting down the Other. While this is certainly not the kind of behavior any moral person ought to endorse, it helps to see this passage from the writer’s perspective. Often, tragic circumstances distort the way one spiritually looks at the world. Continue reading “A British Synagogue Bans a Famous Hassidic Text!” →

A “Priestly Kingdom” (Exodus 19:6)

Posted on by Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

What does it mean to be a “priestly kingdom”  in the Torah?

There was nothing  intrinsic holy about the priest, he was not spiritually superior when compared to ordinary Israelites by the virtue of him being a born into a priestly family. The priests’ vocation was not one of privilege but of obligation and responsibility–noblige oblige.

According to the philosophers Philo of Alexandria (ca. 1st century) and Moses Maimonides (ca. 12th century), birth alone doesn’t guarantee uniqueness.  So too, when classical Judaism speaks of Israel’s election as God’s “Chosen People,” this concept is not due to any sense of  racial superiority, but rather to the fact that we are the nation which lives in accordance with the  ethical and moral lifestyle prescribed by the Torah.  Indeed, any person from any race can become a member of the Israelite people through conversion.

Just as a nation is composed of all types of citizens from various walks of life and backgrounds, so too does every member of the Israelite commonwealth play a vital role in the spiritual life of the nation. Regardless of age, sex, background, or vocation; whether one  be a priest, a seer, a prophet, a sage or a commoner – plays a vital role as a “priest” of the Divine.

The life of a priest is rooted in personal consecration and dedication to the Lord. Priestly consecration demands that the priest consciously separate himself from anything that defiles and diminishes the respect and reverence for human life. As a priestly kingdom,” God requires that Israel guard herself from the forces of death, impurity and corruption that  petrifies its collective  heart and soul. Israel’s corporate vocation is both purely spiritual and socially transformative in that we bear witness to the reality of ethical monotheism.

The main purpose of the priesthood is mediate between the sphere of the divine and the ordinary world. A priest through his ritual conduct  facilitates communication across the ethereal boundary separating the holy from the profane.  Being a priest to the people demands vigilance and mindfulness in how the one carries out the  priestly duties. Every thought, word, and deed requires sublimation and holiness. By way of metaphor,  Israel  too must be conscious of how it acts in the realm of secular realm. Every holy thought, every considerate word, and especially every good deed–when performed with nobility of spirit–reflects sanctity.

Just as the priest conducts himself with grace and with dignity, so too does God’s holy people. Most importantly, just as the priest acts as a conduit for God’s blessing to the general community, Israel also serves as a  medium through which all the nations of the world become blessed (Gen 12:2-3). Israel’s recent involvement in Haiti and other places affected by natural catastrophe derives from her spiritual sense of priestly service and ethical responsibility.

Jewish law teaches that any priest who does not get along with his community is not allowed to bless his congregation with the priestly benediction, since the blessing demands that the priest feel love toward the people he serves. Given the mercurial nature of his community, this is certainly no easy task!

Is the doctrine of “Original Sin” warranted in the Tanakh or in Jewish tradition?

Posted on by Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

Is the doctrine of “Original Sin” warranted in the Tanakh or in Jewish tradition? The question is more complex than it might seem; obviously, if Christian scholars cannot agree on what constitutes “Original Sin,” why should it matter what Jewish scholars or texts have to say about this question? Here is a short summary to consider:

As a rule, rabbinic tradition did not subscribe to the Christian description of Genesis 3 as the “Fall,”–a term which does not appear at all in this famous story. As well, the Sages rejected the interpretations found in the Pseudepigraphal writings that intimate the cosmic struggle between God and the legions of the Devil.  However, this theme does appear in the Apocryphal writings, e.g., Sirach 25:23, where the ancient philosopher blames the woman for introducing death to the world. A similar intimation appears in Wisdom of Solomon 2:24, “But by the envy of the devil, death entered the world, and they who are in his possession experience it.”[1]

Note that neither of these passages speak of  “Original Sin” as understood in numerous Christian texts.[2] In fact, from the Christian perspective, Eve becomes the prototype for all women because of her acquiescence to the serpent’s seduction.[3] Jewish exegetical tradition has always felt that the Christian reading committed considerable violence to the text.  In fact, psychologist Theodor Reik (1888-1969) made an amazing observation: “Not before Sirach (200-175 B.C.E.) is there any allusion found to a primeval sin and not before the Apocalypse of Baruch (80-150 C.E.) is there any hint of the story of the Fall that brought upon man the liability of future punishment. Jesus refers neither to the Garden of Eden nor to the Fall.”[4]

Notes:


[1] Some scholars think the passage refers to Cain. Because of the envy he feels toward his brother, he becomes the world’s first murderer. However, in 1 Enoch 69:6, the writer believes that Satan caused Eve to sin. See also 2 Esdr. 3:7-22; 7:118.

[2] See John 1:29; 8:44; Rom. 5:12-21; 1 Cor. 15:21-22, 45-49; Heb. 9:26.

[3] This would explain why Christians consider Mary, in a sense, the “Second Eve,” much like Jesus becomes the “new Adam.”

[4] Theodor Reik, Myth and Guilt: The Crime and Punishment of Mankind (New York: George Braziller Inc., 1957), 60.

Two Medieval Jewish Thinkers on the “Image of God”

Posted on by Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

The concept of the Imago Dei ( “Image of God”) has fascinated Jewish thinkers since the time of Philo and Ben Sira. For now, we will focus only on two famous medieval thinkers: Saadia Gaon and Maimonides.

Saadia points out in his philosophic classic that בְּצֶלֶם אֱלֹהִים  (B’tse’lem ´élöhîm= “in the likeness of the Divine image”) is figurative language for God bestowing special honor unto humankind, which He did not confer unto the rest of Creation. This distinctiveness is visible in humanity’s ability to exert dominion over the earth (Gen. 1:26).

Among modern scholars, biblical theologian D. Clines clarifies the meaning of Divine image by pointing to the nuanced difference between ”representative” and ”representation” which in many ways complements Saadia’s original insight on the subject:

“Man is created not in God’s image, since God has no image of His own, but as God’s image, or rather to be God’s image, that is to deputize in the created world for the transcendent God who remains outside the world order. That man is God’s image means that he is the visible corporeal representative of the invisible, bodiless God; he is representative rather than representation, since the idea of portrayal is secondary in the significance of the image. However, the term “likeness” is an assurance that man is an adequate and faithful representative of God on earth. The whole man is the image of God, without distinction of spirit and body. All mankind, without distinction, are the image of God. . . .  Mankind, which means both the human race and individual men, do not cease to be the image of God so long as they remain men; to be human and to be the image of God are not separable.[1]

Rashi makes a similar point as well in his famous commentary; the “image of God” is merely the image (or conduit) God personally creates to manifest His reality to the world–but God Himself does not possess an “image.”

Maimonides: “Image” as Reason

Like Philo and Saadia, Maimonides takes sharp issue with scholars who believe that God actually possesses a humanoid shape.[2] The image of the Divine is most present in the human being’s capacity to reason[3] and ascertain abstract spiritual truths so that human beings may in part, resemble angelic beings.[4] Moreover, the soul’s eschatological standing in the Afterlife depends upon the cultivation of the human intellect in grasping these higher truths.[5] Maimonides begins his Guide by theologically defining what exactly “image” and “likeness” mean, so that an average person—whether Jew or non-Jew—can develop an acceptable and rational conception about the true nature of God[6]

In addition, Maimonides states that without a rational and theologically correct understanding of God, even one who claims to be monotheistic is essentially not much different from the pagan who imagines the gods resembling human beings. In some ways, he is worse, for he is guilty of transforming the God of Israel into a pagan fetish. Like Aristotle, Maimonides believes that the faculty of reason enables one to become most God-like when that person develops the capacity to partially grasp the nature of God’s ultimate reality.

Notes:

[1] D.J.A. Clines, “The Image of God in Man,” Tyndale Bulletin 19 (1968), 101.

[2] Maimonides’ great critic, R. Abraham Ibn Daud (ca. 1110-1180), rebuked him: “Why has he called such a person a heretic? וכמה גדולים וטובים ממנו  — Many people greater and better than him adhered to such a belief on the basis of numerous Scriptural passages [that indicate Divine corporeality]. Just as the Tanakh can be so easily misunderstood, how much more so can the Aggadot [Talmudic ethical and theological teachings] confuse the mind!” (R. Avraham Ibn Daud’s notes on MT Hilchot Teshuvah 3:7). A more polite re-wording of Ibn Daud can be found in R. Joseph Albo’s version: “Although the component part of belief is so, nevertheless, he who believes that His Being is corporeal—as a result of anthropomorphic phrases found in the Scriptures and in the Midrash—does not deserve to be identified as a “heretic” (Sefer HaIkarim 2:41). For a comprehensive survey on the literature dealing with this issue, see Marc Shapiro’s “The Limits of Orthodox Theology” (Oxford, G. B.: Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 2004), 45-70.

[3] Like Maimonides, Rashi wrote in his Torah commentary that the excellence of the divine image is seen in the human capacity to discern and understand.

[4] Guide 1:26.

[5] MT., Hilchot Yesodei HaTorah 4:8,12.

[6] MT., Hilchot Shemitah V’Yobel 13:13.

Rediscovering the Soul-Breath of the Sabbath

Posted on by Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

While it is true that many translations of the Bible such as the New Revised Version Standard (NRSV), the King James’ Version (KJV) and others render the verb וַיִּשְׁבֹּת (wayyišböt) as “rested,” a more accurate translation is “ceased,” i.e., “God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it because He ceased from all His work which God created to make” (Gen. 2:2). Ramban (12th century) interprets these words to mean “He ceased performing all His creative work.” Hence, for God, the Shabbat is really more a day of “ceasing,” rather than “resting,” as commonly believed.

But why does God need to abstain from producing new creative work? Obviously it is not because of tiredness! As theologian John Shea notes, a story about God is really a model for how we are to conduct our lives. God’s “ceasing” from Creation thus provides us with a template for emulating God’s behavior. As human beings created in the image of God, we too need to make time for rest and purposely abstain from interfering with Creation one day of the week. The passion to create can sometimes be dangerous—especially in a highly technological society that prides itself on its ability to create, manipulate and control the world around it. In our modern world, we often tend to think of ourselves as being completely self-sufficient.

There’s a great story I would like to share with you from Mrs. Lettie Cowman’s wonderful book, “Springs in the Valley.” In the deep jungles of Africa, a traveler was making a long trek. Coolies had been engaged from a tribe to carry the loads. The first day they marched rapidly and went far. The traveler had high hopes of a speedy journey. But the second morning these jungle tribesmen refused to move. For some strange reason they just sat and rested. On inquiry as to the reason for this strange behavior, the traveler was informed that they had gone too fast the first day, and that they were now waiting for their souls to catch up with their bodies.

Then Mrs. Cowman concludes with this penetrating exhortation: “This whirling rushing life which so many of us live does for us what that first march did for those poor jungle tribesmen. The difference: they knew what they needed to restore life’s balance; too often we do not.”

It is incredible to realize that Lettie Cowman wrote these words eighty-five years ago.

Later in the Book of Exodus we read: בֵּינִי וּבֵין בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל אוֹת הִוא לְעֹלָם כִּי־שֵׁשֶׁת יָמִים עָשָׂה יְהוָה אֶת־הַשָּׁמַיִם וְאֶת־הָאָרֶץ וּבַיּוֹם הַשְּׁבִיעִי שָׁבַת וַיִּנָּפַשׁ “It will be a sign between me and the Israelites forever, for in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, and on the seventh day he abstained from work and rested” (Exod. 31:17).

Consider the following: The Hebrew verb וַיִּנָּפַשׁ (wayyinnäpaš)  in Exodus 31:17  can sometimes mean “rest,” “ensouled,” “breath,” and  “to catch one’s breath.”  It often points to the inner being of a person. Hence, a nefesh can also mean a living being. In the context of Shabbat, God ensouled this day when He rested with a dimension of His Presence, which the Kabbalists interestingly enough identified as feminine! The Sabbath reveals the reality of the Divine Feminine better known as the “Shekhinah.”

Why did God need to rest on the Shabbat day? Was He tired from creating the world? Hardly. Maybe it’s because the Sages wished to teach us that work is not an end in and of itself. To be healthy, to be free from the problems of earning a livelihood, we must have Shabbat as a day to renew our strength and spirits. Like the natives of Mrs. Cowman’s stories, we must have time to renew our spirits, to catch our breath and to become a living being once more. On Shabbat, God created the possibility of renewal, which, in turn, is one of the fundamental teachings of our faith.

The concept of the Shabbat is radical in many respects. For hundreds of years Jews, the ancient Greeks and Romans ridiculed the Jews for being lazy for resting on the Shabbat day. Yet, paradoxically, the Sabbath is perhaps one of ancient Israel’s greatest gifts to human history. While the Babylonians produced the ziggurats, and the Egyptians built the pyramids (No, the Israelites did not build the pyramids!), the Israelites introduced the concept of “holiness of time.”

The concept of rest is not just to members of the human family, the Ten Commandments insists that even animals rest on the Sabbath—how much more so should every person, whether Jew or Gentile! [1] In biblical psychology, even the earth itself possesses  a sentience just like human beings (cf. Lev. 18:28; 20:22; 25:2). In short, contrary to the view espoused by the behaviorists and the philosophers of positivism, man is infinitely more than a complex biological machine. According to Pharaoh, the Israelites were nothing more than animated tools, not much different from the bricks his slaves gathered. For Pharaoh, human beings live to produce–and nothing more. Continue reading “Rediscovering the Soul-Breath of the Sabbath” →

The Lepers’ Messiah (02/04/10)

Posted on by Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

The Sages often wondered when and where the Messiah would appear. Despite their reticence to make messianic predictions, the rabbis nevertheless believed that his coming remains an eternal possibility. As for the time when this consummation was to take place, it was generally held to depend on the degree of progress men will have achieved in their moral development.

This point is well illustrated in the well-known Talmudic parable. “Rabbi Joshua ben Levi met Elijah standing at the entrance of Rabbi Simeon ben Yohai’s tomb.… He then said to him, ‘When will the Messiah come?’ ‘Go and ask him’ was the reply. ‘Where is he sitting?’—’At the entrance of the city.’ And how shall I recognize him? — ‘He is sitting among the poor lepers, untying and rebandaging their wounds, while thinking, ‘Should I be needed, I must not delay.’ …[1]

So he went to him and greeted him, saying, ‘Peace be upon thee, Master and Teacher.’ ‘Peace be upon thee, O son of Levi,’ he replied. ‘When will thou come, Master?’ asked he. ‘Today’ was his answer.” When the Messiah failed to appear that day, a deeply disappointed Rabbi Joshua returned to Elijah with the complaint: “He spoke falsely to me, stating that he would come today, but has not!” Elijah then enlightened him that the Messiah had really quoted Scripture (Ps. 95:7): “Today, if ye hearken to His voice” (Sanhedrin 98a).

One might wonder: Why wasn’t the Messiah worried about ritual impurity? One exposition found in the commentaries suggests that the Messiah is among those afflicted with leprosy (cf. Isa. 53:4); while this is a plausible exposition, I prefer the image of the Messiah ministering to the lepers. The answer to the question is even more remarkable when considering how the ancients marginalized the lepers.

In the days of the Temple, lepers lived outside the cities in special huts, where they all congregated for support. People feared any kind of physical contact with them for fear of contagion, or because of the possibility they might become ritually contaminated.

It was not uncommon for children and adults to throw stones at the lepers because they were the outcasts of ancient society.[2] Anytime a person merely approached a leper, the leper had to say, “Unclean!” in order to avoid contact. One could only imagine the havoc this caused in the leper’s family. The mere appearance of a leper on the street or in a neighborhood was meant that everyone had to avoid him.[3] No one could even salute him; his bed was to be low, inclining towards the ground.[4] If he even put his head into a home, that home or building became ritually contaminated. No less a distance than four cubits (six feet) must be kept from a leper; or, if the wind came from that direction, a hundred were scarcely sufficient. For all practical purposes, a leper was like a walking dead man.

Yet, the Messiah of our story seems as though he could care less about ritual impurity; to him, caring for the lepers is a supreme ethical demand that transcends ritual laws.

Learning to heal the lepers—just like the Messiah

The Messiah’s response is intriguing. Redemption will not occur tomorrow, but today when we emulate his acts of selfless love; messianic redemption comes when we bandage the wounds of those suffering in the world around us. It seems as though the Talmud is suggesting, we have a personal role to play in redeeming the human condition. Redemption comes by living a redemptive life.

Bandaging the open wounds of the lepers, one open sore at a time, is the only viable human response to preparing the world for ultimate redemption. This process begins with treating the forlorn and abandoned members such as the lepers, or the AIDS victims, or anyone with a terrible disease with prayer, consideration, kindness and compassion— regardless of the disease.

The Talmud relates a story that is consistent with the ethos of the Messiah passage mentioned above. “R. Helbo was once sick. But none visited him. The Sage rebuked the scholars, saying, ‘Did it not once happen that one of R. Akiba’s disciples fell sick, and the Sages did not visit him? So R. Akiba personally entered his student’s house to visit him, and upon finding the chamber neglected, Rabbi Akiba instructed his students to clean up the home, and the sick student soon recovered. Thankfully, the student exclaimed, ‘My master—you have revived me!’ R. Akiba began his very next lecture with the statement, ‘Anyone who fails to visit the sick is like a shedder of blood’” (Nedarim 40a). The moral of the story stresses the importance of mutual-aid and responsibility. Simply put, we are our “brother’s keeper.

The French Jewish philosopher Emanual Lévinas stresses how God’s face is mirrored in the face of the ordinary people we encounter; when we see the beggar on the street asking for us to help, God’s face is present in the face of those struggling just to survive–one day at a time. Kabbalists sometimes describe the Shekhinah (the maternal aspect of the Divine) as always present among those who experience pain and loss. Jewish tradition teaches us that we become most God-like when we outflow compassion to a suffering world. Continue reading “The Lepers’ Messiah (02/04/10)” →