Category: Torah portions of the Week

The legend of the flood is remarkable in that it finds echoes across many different cultures, in every region of the world. The Hopi Indians in North America talk about righteous people surviving a flood by floating in giant reeds. Indigenous tribes in Hawaii talk about a righteous man who survived the flood in a ark and saw a rainbow at the flood's end. The famous Gilgamesh epic from Mesopotamia includes the survivor sending out a dove and a raven to see if the waters had receded.

All of this indicates that the flood is, indeed, accurate history. If so, it's reasonable to expect that a vessel as large as the ark might indeed have survived. Those who believe it has, claim it lies under the ice that permanently covers the summit of 17,000 foot Mount Ararat, in Northeastern Turkey. So far, though, all of the photographs, videos, and testimonies, are unconvincing at best.

After the biblical flood has receded and Noah and his family have emerged from the ark, they bring a sacrifice of thanksgiving to the Lord. God smelled the pleasant aroma of their sacrifice, and decided that He would never bring another flood of such magnitude to the world. The Torah tells us God's reasoning: "For man's inclination is just evil from his youth, and therefore I shall not destroy everything as I have done."

That is a very strange reason! If man's inclination is evil, that sounds like more of a justification to bring more punishments, not less!

The biblical commentary of Rabbi Zalman Sorotzkin expresses one line of understanding. Prior to the flood, he says, the physical substance of the earth was thicker and more influential over the character of man. So much so, that once man became entrapped in his evil ways, he could not escape. It was, in a sense, a form of spiritual quicksand. After the flood, however, the physical earth had been purified by the waters. Now, man's physical essence had been weakened. This gave his spirit a fighting chance. (Perhaps this can explain the dramatically decreased lifespans of the post-flood generations.)

The main word, according to Rabbi Sorotzkin, in God's explanation for His change of heart is "Inclination." Before the flood, man's essence had become evil. God only destroys when there is no hope of redemption. After the flood, man's good essence, presumably inherited from Noah, was primary. Any evil behavior was a function of man's inclination, the temptations of the moment. Before the flood, man was described as having "Only evil thoughts, all of the day." Now, man had a chance to think and do good things as well.

I believe that Noah's Ark does, indeed, exist, in a much more important place. Think about Noah. Here is a man surrounded by the most corrupt culture and history, who maintained his decency. Noah had tremendous faith, Noah refused to join in with the violence and upheavals of pre-flood society. That was a time when anarchy reigned, when the powerful judges abused their power to steal whatever they wished. "The land was filled with violence and theft." The rabbinical commentaries add sexual corruption even amongst the animals to underscore just how bad things were.

Imagine being one person in that whole crazy world who knew this was wrong! What tremendous strength of character! And so, God chose Noah and those he influenced, namely, his family, as the last great hope for humanity.

And inside that ark, something even more wonderful took place. The entire animal kingdom sent representatives to survive the flood. Who took care of them? Noah and his family. This was an intense, full time job of loving kindness. The ark was a bastion of faith, decency, morality, and caring.

I believe that any place where these character traits are taught, encouraged, and practiced, is where Noah's ark is. The world is going through upheavals, as it has been more or less since then. There are tremendously evil people and groups that wish to destroy civilization. The call of the extremist is very powerful. Those schools, houses of worship, places of kindness such as nursing homes, hospitals, homes for the disabled and so many thousands and millions of others, are all Noah's ark.

You see, when God smelled that sacrifice, he was smelling the beautiful aroma of Noah's beautiful character, his faith and his caring. God said that this is the real potential of humanity. If humanity does fall, it is only a temporary inclination. Whenever we see the world around us sending negative messages and descending into negative behavior, we should go into a Noah's Ark to find new strength.

And, then, we must also leave the ark and reenter the world as Noah did. But when we leave the ark, we must make sure that the ark never leaves us.

The story is well-known. Man had become so corrupted that God decided to start over. Only one human, Noah, had maintained his righteousness. This was quite an accomplishment, as he went against the flow of all mankind. In doing so, he merited salvation for himself, his family, and representatives of the entire animal kingdom. The world was to be destroyed in a flood, Noah and his crew would be preserved in a floating Ark.

A consistent principle of Tora is that all punishments fit the crime, and that every remedy works on a deeper spiritual level. Thus, Noah's Ark is more than simply a lifeboat. It is a corrective for all of the ills of the society that earned destruction. How so?

There were a number of sins that the generation of the flood was guilty of. First of all, idolatry was prevalent. Second of all, sexual immorality was commonplace. Thirdly, theft and violence defined this society. If I had to choose an underlying character trait that fueled these transgressions, it would be cruelty. Idolatry presupposes a cruel god or gods who must be appeased (see the article on idolatry from last week). Sexual immorality presupposes cruelty through exploitation. The Bible says that the "Sons of the powerful ones took whom ever they wished to be their wives." They took them whether they wanted or not. Thirdly, theft and violence are certainly indicators of cruelty.

The experience of being in the Ark was an antidote to all of these sins. There was no idolatry in the Ark, only a reconnection to one God. Noah was not an idolater, nor was his family. As for sexual immorality, there were two of every species. They did not cohabit at all during the entire period of the flood, according to rabbinical tradition. Regarding theft and violence, there was none of that.

Regarding the underlying character trait of cruelty, the opposite was in force. Noah had to feed all the animals daily. They had to be fed before the humans sat down to eat. Their needs had to be cared for. This entire enterprise called for kindness and love. No one loves another human being more than its mother and father. That is because they have sacrificed greatly for the child. The more one does for others, the more one loves them and cultivates the character trait of kindness. Noah's Ark was an incubator of kindness. In truth, Noah's Ark was the ultimate act of kindness on God's part towards Noah, his family, and all the animals.

I think there is something even more significant in the Ark experience. When Noah emerges from the Ark, it is not long before he indulges in drink and becomes intoxicated. Drunkenness is usually a manifestation of depression, and I think Noah was deeply depressed. What was the reason for that? After all, God has spared him and his family, and had cast a rainbow in the heavens to promise that they would never be another flood. What was there to be sad about?

I believe that Noah's Ark represented a return to the womb for all of mankind. Inside the mother's womb, all is love and kindness. So it was inside the Ark. It was a period of complete innocence and purity. There was no cynicism, no bitterness, no sin. Life may have been cramped in there, but it was deeply beautiful.

Sometimes I look at the toys my little children play with. When I think about it, it can actually make me sad to realize that they will outgrow them. In fact, someday my children, with God's help, will reach a ripe old age. At that point, the mobile that had them squealing with joyous laughter as infants will have no significance. That made me sad. Why do we need to leave behind such a beautiful time of life, when the simplest things fill us with joy?

I am guessing that this is the reason Noah was sad. The innocence of the Ark was going to fade, and he knew it. He chose to escape to another "beautiful" place, alcoholic stupor. Everything is happy, everything is simple. In that stupor, Noah took off all his clothes. Was this a subconscious attempt to return to the womb?

This might also explain Noah's reaction to his son, Ham, who saw his nakedness. He cursed him to be a slave to his brothers. Perhaps he saw in Ham's reaction the cynicism that would lead to renewed corruption in the world. Better he'd be subservient to his righteous brothers, who represented a better chance for humanity.

But was Noah's sadness and fear justified? Perhaps not, and perhaps one aspect of the Ark provides the hope that could've spared Noah his depression. The aspect was a special window, or a glowing stone, that was called a "Tzohar." Whether it was a stone or a window, I believe it represents the same thing: spirituality. If it was a glowing stone, it illuminated life inside the Ark, just as the soul illuminates the body. If it was a window, it provided a glimpse of heaven, which inspires spirituality.

According to tell music legend, and angel is present inside the womb when every fetus develops. It teaches the fetus the entire Tora. Just as the child is to be born, the angel touches the baby on the lip and causes him to forget everything he had learned. What is the point of that? To imbue the child with deep spirituality. It's not the details of Tora that is important for a baby, it is the thirst for it. The baby will want to reacquire that spirituality just as any person wishes to recover a lost precious object.

Thus, spirituality is the key to eternal purity and happiness. To maintain the joy of the womb into adult life we must be spiritual people. Cruelty is a physical character trait, predicated on causing physical and emotional hurt. Lust is a physical character traits, seeking to acquire physical pleasure and possessions. Kindness, however, is a spiritual trait where the person denies themselves in order to help others. The tzohar and the kindness required by the running of the Ark provides a spirituality to the rebirth-womb experience of mankind. Let us be spiritual people.

The rabbis of the Talmud debated whether this commandment was actually a reality, or simply a theoretical. Rabbi Yehuda says that there never was, and never will be, an instance of the Rebellious Son. Why, then, was it written? The famous answer, "Inquire into it, and receive your reward." In other words, since the study of the Torah brings with it reward, here is another mitzvah to study for more reward.

One could ask why we need an impossible Commandment to study? You could say "Inquire into it and receive your reward" about all of the commandments of the Torah! Further, with an introduction like that, I would expect there to be volumes upon volumes of exegesis on this topic of the Rebellious Son. There aren't. There is one short chapter in the tractate Sanhedrin, just a few pages.

In a lighter way, one could explain the instruction to "inquire into it" to mean "extract so many requirements for a guilty verdict from nuances in the biblical text so as to make an actual case of this completely impossible." Indeed, here are the requirements that our sages extrapolate from these verses:

The parents must be of the same height and have the same voice. They must both be completely physically functioning, not lame, not deaf, dumb, or blind, and with both their hands. The child must be in the physical process of maturing, which the sages teach us is approximately three months before his bar mitzvah up to his bar mitzvah. The child must eat a certain amount of meat and drink a certain amount of wine.

With all of these requirements, an actual case of the Rebellious Son indeed becomes an impossibility.

There is, however, an opinion in the Talmud that this commandment was, indeed, fulfilled. Rabbi Yonatan claims that he saw it, and even sat on the rebellious son's grave. In a similar discussion, the commandment of the "Seduced City," one that worships idols in its entirety and must be completely destroyed, is debated. One Rabbi claims that it never happened and never will happen, while Rabbi Yonatan claims that it did happen, and he sat on the archaeological mound of the remains of that city.

This argument is difficult to understand. Are they arguing about historical facts? As a rule, such arguments do not take place in the Talmud. Secondly, why does Rabbi Yonatan stress that he sat on the grave of the rebellious son, and sat on the mound of the seduced city? What does this symbolize?

One could say that Rabbi Yonatan is teaching us something we all have experienced, namely, "Never say never." Ripley's Believe It or Not actually exists. But this answer leaves the question of whether they are debating historical facts in place. Can we find another approach?

The Mishna tells us that the rebellious son is judged according to his ultimate destiny. A child who meets all of these requirements will certainly, 100%, grow up to become a violent criminal. Thus, it is better that he die now, before his bar mitzvah. In that way, he will arrive at the World to Come as a righteous child, rather than as an evil adult later on.

This is also problematic, as it seems to contradict the concept of free choice and to deny this individual the opportunity of repentance. Nonetheless, the sages seem to be teaching us a lesson that, under certain extreme circumstances, a person can immunize himself from the pangs of conscience. Indeed, when it comes to the requirements of the parents, the sages are showing us that this child must have nothing to blame his bad behavior on. His parents must be exemplary, unified, capable. They must rebuke him and teach him as he grows. If all of these things are in place, and the rebellious son continues with contrary behavior, then he has demonstrated his impossibility of repentance.

This suggests to me a new explanation of this puzzling commandment. I will give a parable. A road that passes by a steep cliff must have a strong fence to keep cars from going over the edge. Such a strong fence could be constructed as to make crashing through it and going over the cliff completely impossible. The cliff, however, does not disappear and cease to exist because of the presence of the fence. It is simply impossible for any car to crash over it. Pure physics.

So it is with this commandment. A convicted rebellious son is theoretically possible, but physically and psychologically impossible. Why? Because if the parenting is perfect, as the sages require, human nature will not allow the child to fail. Only if the parents are faulty will the son become rebellious. True, he will no longer be subject to the Rebellious Son penalty, but he will be tremendous trouble to his parents and society nonetheless, and that's no good.

Thus, the commandment is not in vain. Rabbi Yehuda is urging us to inquire, and learn just how to make sure that this sad situation will never happen. By understanding this commandment, we will understand how to be excellent parents and teachers. The reward will be, as we said above, that there will never be a rebellious son, or even a slightly rebellious son, not in law and not in practice. Rabbi Yehuda tells us that, with proper parenting, there never was and never will be a failure.

And what are these lessons of proper parenting?

1. The parents must have the same voice. This is a literal impossibility since men and women are constructed differently vocally. What it means is that they must be speaking the same message. They must be speaking it in the same fashion. When a child receives a unified message from his parents, he will learn right and wrong with clarity.
2. The parents must be of the same height. While this is more practical, it still is rare. I believe the height mentioned here refers to spiritual height. It must be of the same stature, sharing the same religious commitments. Not just their voices must be unified, their actions must be as well.
3. They must not be lame, blind, deaf, or dumb. In other words, they must be aware of and involved in their child's development. They must hear, see, teach, assist and accompany their child actively, throughout the formative years.
4. The commandment applies to a child in the three months before he becomes physically mature. In other words, special attention is paid to those moments in life when a path must be chosen and when a change is to take place. Teaching children how to make important decisions is not easy, but maybe the most important lessons that they will learn.
5. The child must eat meat and drink wine. If he does one without the other, he is not judged as a Rebellious Son. The eating of meat symbolizes lusts and passions. The drinking of wine symbolizes the silencing of the voice of conscience. Every human struggles with lusts and passions, but without the voice of conscience, there is no hope for correction.

Rabbi Yonatan, by claiming that he sat on the grave of the rebellious son, and on the mound of the seduced city, is not disagreeing with Rabbi Yehuda! The great Maharal of Prague explained Rabbi Yonatan's statement as being an allegory to the Jewish people. "My firstborn son is Israel," and our father is God, and our mother is the eternity of Israel. The Israelites sinned, they rebelled against both. The result? Exile. Jerusalem was the seduced city and was destroyed by the Romans. When Rabbi Yonatan tells us that he sat on these things, he may have used the word "sat" as a code word for "mourned." The mourner "sits shiva." All of Israel mourns the destruction of the Temple and Jerusalem on the ninth of Av.

What I learn from this commentary is that, according to Rabbi Yonatan, this commandment was factual in part. Aspects of the rebellious son were our national shame in the past, and the exiles and sufferings of the Jewish people were the accompanying judgment. And so, if we inquire and improve the way that we influence each other, the way that we lift ourselves up as a nation, we shall certainly receive our reward! What will that reward be? That there will no longer be a rebellious son and a seduced city, rather a loyal son and a rebuilt city!

There was a crisis in the camp of Israel. Korach, a wealthy and popular leader, was challenging Moses and Aaron. Why, argued Korach, should Aaron be the high priest? Is this a classic case of nepotism? Does he deserve the job, or is it because he is Moses's brother? The entire congregation is holy, says Korach, so we should share the wealth.

In order to put these sentiments to rest, God commands Moses to gather the wooden staffs of all of the princes of the tribes. Together with Aaron's staff, these will be placed in the Tabernacle overnight. In the morning, people will see whom God chooses to be His High Priest. When they come back the next morning, Aaron's staff has bloomed. More specifically, it has blossomed with a flower, then has sent forth a shoot, and finally has grown almonds. These three things are very significant.

The famous saying of Hillel goes, "If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And when I am for myself alone, what am I? And if not now, then when?" These three rhetorical questions are addressed, and may be inspired by, the staff of Aaron. Let me explain.

The flower that blossomed represents the unique gifts of each individual. This is the first part of Hillel's saying, "If I am not for myself, who will be for me?" We have a primary responsibility to develop our own talents and gifts. If we don't sharpen our own saw, it will never be sharpened.

The shoot that came out implies an outward focus. Indeed, one of the garments of the High Priest was called the "Tzitz," the same word used for shoot in this story. On this garment, which the priest wore on his forehead, was written in the Divine Name. It was intended for all to see and draw inspiration from. It exemplifies the required outward focus of the high priest. Thus, says Hillel, "And if I am for myself alone, what am I?"

The third element of the staff of Aaron was the blossoming of the almonds. Almonds are the quickest of the fruits. The Hebrew word for almond, "Shaked," is also used to mean alacrity and enthusiasm. It implies moving fast, with gusto. Hence, the third element in Hillel's saying matches is perfectly: "And if not now, then when?"

Thus, the ideal man and woman will nurture their gifts and talents, gain education and work to refine their character. This is all done with a goal of service to humanity, not selfish accomplishment. Finally, this person senses the urgency of the mission and does not delay even for a moment. The world needs you now, not when you think you're good and ready.

This got me to thinking, why do we need to be focused outward? If I said at a table and feed the person next to me, and they feed the person next to them, and so on, we will certainly all eat a meal. But why must it be done that way? Why can't we just feed ourselves and have the same result? In other words, why not take care of ourselves and make that our focus, so that nobody else needs to take care of us? We can even make allowance for the extreme circumstances when someone does need another to take care of them.

Another teaching of the sages of the Mishna evaluates the way people relate to wealth and property. "One who says ' What is yours is yours, and what his mind is mine,' is an average person. Some sages teach that this is the attribute of Sodom." That is quite an argument! We go from average to the extreme evil of Sodom! What does this mean?

I don't believe one need say there is an argument here. One sages simply stressing statistics, that most people take the approach of "what is mine is mine and what is yours is yours." The other sage counters that this is a very bad approach, it is the approach of Sodom. The focus on me, while in the short term it may not cause major problems, in the long term can devolve into fascism and unspeakable cruelty. The difference between the Hillel approach and the Sodom approach is the difference of connection versus division.

Modern Western countries are focused on the rights of their citizens. People speak up, demonstrate, become active politically and vote based on who is going to protect their rights better. I believe this is a very bad thing. President Kennedy decried this in his famous saying, "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." Nowadays this has been flipped on its head.

Judaism is not a religion of rights, it is a system of responsibilities. It teaches us not that the poor have a right to bread, but rather that the rich have a responsibility to give bread to the poor. It is a subtle difference, but it is a world of difference.

The origin of societies was based upon what is called the "Social contract." The idea was that we band together for the common good, and to prevent any individuals from exploiting others. We agreed to behave nicely to others so that they do not kill us. There is no underlying concept of unity here, only a practical arrangement to prevent anarchy. The obvious flaw of the social contract is in the situation when one group becomes stronger than another, and no longer needs the social contract.

A poignant historical example of this is the Islamic treatment of treaties. Mohamed made a treaty for 10 years of peace with the tribe of Qureish in Mecca. As soon as he was strong enough, only two years into that treaty, he returned and massacred them all. So much for the lasting value of the social contract. This is exactly what we see happening in the Middle East today.

In America today, we are seeing worrying signs of societal disintegration. At the same time, there is a very troubling political hostility in the air. I believe this is a direct result of the emphasis of rights over responsibilities. That emphasis, although more refined, is still part of the social contract approach. Everybody is shouting "give me my right to do whatever the heck I want and the rest of you can do whatever the heck you want." The emphasis on me contains within it the seeds of division, and we see this happening before our very eyes.

God wants man to be focused outward. God wants man to understand that his purpose in life is to fulfill his responsibility towards humanity. God wants man to be dedicated to the fixing of the world. Certainly people deserve rights, but the way they must get those rights is through others fulfilling their responsibility to protect them. I am afraid that in the Western world, the nations have no goal other than to keep things quiet. There is no unifying vision that casts responsibility on every member of society. If there would be, things would be quite different.

I believe that the Western world needs to find a new mission, and that mission is an urgent one. It is to save the innocent victims of the barbarism rocking the Middle East. It is to teach the world the meaning of "love thy neighbor," and to pursue the happiness and prosperity of the "other."

This is the message of Aaron's staff. The essence of life is to use all of the wonderful gifts that God gave each of us to reach out and improve the world. The world needs constant improvement, and cannot wait. Someone who is truly dedicated to this task cannot sit idly by, even if they think they are not ready.

Indeed, Korach's unusual demise demands an explanation. In most instances, the Israelites who sinned were struck down in a plague. And even in this story, there is an alternative punishment used for other rebels. Moses tells all those who would presume to the priesthood to bring incense to the tabernacle. They do, and at the critical moment, they are consumed in fire. That, at least, is a punishment we have encountered elsewhere. Aaron's own sons, Nadav and Avihu, died in a Divine fire after having brought a sacrifice "that they were not commanded to bring."

Our sages in the Mishna tell us of 10 things that were created in the last hour before that first Sabbath in Genesis. One of them was the "mouth of the earth" which swallowed Korach and his fellow rebels. So we know it was unique, but why was it deserved? Let's take a closer look at his sin.

The rabbis trace the genesis of Korach's rebellion to his being passed over for the presidency of the tribe of Levi. Amram, the father of Moses and Aaron, was the oldest of the four sons of Kehat, one of the three main branches of the Levites. Korach was the son of Yizhar, the second oldest. He, therefore, felt he should have had the next position of authority, and be the Prince of the tribe of Levi. Instead, it went to a man named Elitzafan, who was the son of the youngest brother, Uziel.

In addition, Korach, as a Levi, had to shave off all of his bodily hair. When his wife saw him like that, she convinced him that Moses had made up this law in order to humiliate him. She fed his paranoia by reminding him of the slight of his non-choice as Prince of the Levites. In other words, he was fed a whole lot of jealousy which pushed him to rebellion.

Now, it's not politically wise to rebel on the basis of one's own personal ambitions. One needs a higher cause, and so Korach created a populist movement. "The entire congregation is holy! God is in their midst! Why should you (Moses and Aaron) raise yourselves above the congregation of God?"

In order to amplify his populist complaints, he created a visual stunt. He had 250 people dress up in garments that were entirely made of sky blue coloring. He marched them over to Moses, and asked Moses a question: "do these garments require fringes?" There is a commandment to put fringes on the corners of a four-cornered garment. One of those strings must be of the sky blue coloring. Moses responded that yes, indeed, even if the entire garment is made of sky-blue, it requires the fringes.

Korach mocked this response. "This is illogical," he said, "because if one thread of sky-blue is sufficient to render a garment permissible, then if the garment is entirely made of sky-blue it should certainly be permissible on its own, without additional fringes." In other words, if the people are all holy, there is no need for spiritual leadership. We are all sky-blue, we need no fringes.

All of that being said, I still don't see why a special death needed to be created for Korach and his people. Yes, he was jealous. Yes, he was rebelling. So were the spies, so were those who worshipped the Golden calf. They weren't swallowed up by the ground. Korach and his people were. Why?

There was one other instance when death by burial in the earth was presented. It is not written in the Torah. This story is found in rabbinical commentaries. Who was threatened by this death? The entire Jewish people. At what time? As they were about to receive the Torah at Mount Sinai. The rabbis tell us that God held the mountain above their heads and said, "if you accept the Torah, all will be well. If not, there shall be your graves."

My teacher, Rabbi Aaron Soloveichik, questions the need for such a threat. Didn't the Israelites famously respond to God's offer of the Torah with, "We shall do and we shall learn?" They were eager to receive the Torah! Why threaten them with burial?

Rabbi Soloveitchik suggests a powerful resolution to this question. He explains how the people were glad to receive the Torah… for themselves. They, after all, had witnessed the miracles of the Exodus. For them, faith was easy, and so accepting the Torah was a natural response.

But that generation was reluctant to accept the Torah on behalf of its descendants. They feared that their great-grandchildren, not having seen God's power, might not be willing to observe the Torah properly. Thus, they would be liable to punishment. To protect them, by not obligating them in the first place, the people were not ready to accept the Torah on their behalf. Just for themselves, not for their children.

To this, God says that by not accepting the Torah for their descendants, they are giving away immortality. Their generation will be the only one to keep the Torah, and when they are gone, so shall the Torah in this world be gone. They will figuratively be buried under the Mount Sinai that could've been the beginning of an unbroken chain.

Perhaps this is the danger in Korach's rebellion. By seeking to undermine the authority of Moses and Aaron, by seeking to deny the importance of spiritual leadership, Korach endangers the future of the Jewish people. The Judaism of Korach might last a generation, but no further. Why? Because Torah leadership requires the people to be in a process of constant growth. Leaders are the teachers, and learning is the key to Jewish survival. Education is central to our religion. Our most central prayer is the Shema, which enjoins us to "make (the words of Torah) them sharp in the mouths of your children and children's children."

Korach claimed that a person can achieve sufficient Jewish knowledge and spirituality. Once he reaches that level, further growth, and hence, leadership, become unnecessary. The symbolism of the garment made of sky-blue is a perfect metaphor. Moses's replies to Korach that there is no such thing as a garment that does not require the fringes, the strings that go out of the corners. Those strings symbolize the need for constant growth, for constant perfection. They teach us that a garment, no matter how beautiful, is not complete without something coming out of it.

Interestingly, the sequel to the story of Korach is the story of how the princes of the tribes were instructed to bring their staffs to the tabernacle. They would leave them there overnight, and the staff that would blossom and bloom would be that of God's chosen high priest. Sure enough, it was Aaron's staff that grew almonds and flowers. The Hebrew phrase for this is "Vayatzetz tzitz." The Hebrew word for fringes is "Tzitzit." In other words, Aaron's job is to be the fringes, the leader who helps the people to constantly grow. The commandment of Tzitzit, fringes, is given "to all their (Israel's) generations." In other words, there is something about this mitzvah that relates to the future of the Jewish people through their children.

And, interestingly, the rabbis have a sequel to this entire story about what happened underground. The sons of Korach, who were also swallowed up, did not die. They remained on a ledge beneath the Earth's surface, where, according to Talmudic legend, they can still be heard saying, "Moses is true, his Torah is true, and we are the falsifiers."

Korach's sin was to undermine our spiritual leaders, and remove the need for spiritual growth. Such a Judaism could never last, and thus his punishment of burial was a fulfillment of what God had threatened at Mount Sinai. He refused to accept the Torah for his future generations, and thus he was indeed buried. Our emphasis must always be on education, on transmitting the traditions to the next generation. We are part of the chain, and our Torah leaders are the ones who bring that tradition to us from our ancestors. Without them, if Korach had succeeded, we would've had no one to give us those traditions.

There is a saying by the sages that goes as follows: "God forges the good thought into a good deed. He does not forge a bad thought into a deed." In other words, if a person thinks of doing a good deed, God gives them credit as if they had done it. A thought of sin, however, does not accrue to the thinker's detriment.

An example, Reuven gets credit for having saved Joseph's life by suggesting that the brothers throw him in a pit rather than kill him. The sages, however, claim that the pit had snakes and scorpions in it! That's not a recommended way to save someone's life! But Reuven didn't see those lethal creatures because the pit was too deep. He thought he was saving Joseph's life, and the Bible gives him credit for having done so.

Why is this the case? How does this process of transforming a good thought into a deed actually work?

The Bible calls for animal sacrifices. In modern times, animal sacrifices sounds a bit primitive. There is a big dispute among the sages regarding the reason for animal sacrifices. According to Maimonidies, the great medieval scholar, sacrifices are a response to what was happening in the pagan world. The pagans practiced all kinds of sacrifice, and so God gave the Jewish people their own version of it.

Implied in this answer is the understanding that when idolatry ceases to be a factor in the world, the need for animal sacrifices disappears. Nonetheless, biblical and rabbinical sources imply that the sacrificial order will be reinstated at the time of the third Temple's construction. This is a question raised against Maimonidies' opinion.

Another medieval scholar, Rabbi Moses Nachmanidies, gives another reason. When a person brings a sacrifice, they see the animal slaughtered and burned on the altar. They think of how their sins really made them worthy of that punishment, but God had mercy on them. The animal sacrifice becomes a catalyst for repentance.

Even though they disagree, I believe there is a common thread in both of their answers. They both imply that the sacrifices are a response to a situation, either in the religious world, or in the heart of the one bringing the sacrifice. Maimonidies is looking at the psychology of the Jewish people, and he is saying that it is unhealthy for the Jews to feel that the pagans are more "religious" than them. If the Jews felt that the pagans are bringing sacrifices and the Jews themselves are not, a certain sense of religious inferiority might be felt. Once that practice became established, however, it remains for all generations. The same reason applies, so the future generations shouldn't feel that they aren't as religious as their predecessors.

I would like to delve deeper in this discussion, because there is gold to be found in it. The first sacrifice brought was by Cain and his brother Abel. There was no idolatry at that time either, yet they brought sacrifices. Each one had his personal reason for doing so. Cain was seeking to appease God, who was angry about the sin of Adam and Eve. His motivation was guilt. Guilt is a weaker motivation, and Cain sought to bring the "cheapest" sacrifice he could. He brought some of his fruits, not the best, not the worst, just average. God did not accept it.

Abel had a different motivation: love of God. He was inspired by God's creation, grateful for his own humanity, and sought to express that through a gift, a sacrifice. The lover always seeks to bring the best, and Abel brought the firstborn of his flocks. This was accepted.

Thus, there are two motivations for bringing sacrifices, or doing any good deed. The best is when it comes from the heart, and the love in the heart must overflow into those good deeds. The second-best is when it comes from the mind, even though the heart may not feel as strong a motivation. It is still better to do a good deed for neutral reasons, and I stress neutral, rather than to not do it at all. As Judaism teaches, "It is better to perform the commandments not for their own sake, because by doing so, they will come to be performed for their own sake." In other words, doing good deeds transforms the heart.

I believe that both Maimonidies and Nachmanidies are referring to the latter motivation. They are talking about people who may not feel tremendous religious motivation, but know that they should be doing good deeds. An external cause for bringing a sacrifice, whether it be societal pressure or a sense of guilt. In an ideal world, however, sacrifices are brought out of love of God. That applies in a time when there is no idolatry, and when people are not as sinful as before. These scholars are talking about the majority of the history of the world, when the heart may not be as pure and when external motivations become necessary.

There are verses in the prophets, however, that seem to contradict this idea of doing the good deed, bringing the sacrifice, even if not motivated by love. "Why do I need all of your sacrifices when your hearts are far from Me?" Why? We just gave a reason! Because doing the good deed changes the heart!

It is because people can also do good deeds for bad reasons. Up until now, we have been talking about neutral reasons. The person goes to synagogue because it is the thing to do, not because they love the synagogue. But when a person gives charity from stolen money, that charity has no value. The charity becomes part of the sin, because the person seeks to justify his evil deed by giving charity. This is called whitewashing. Someone who wants to bribe God with a sacrifice so He will look the other way when they cheat and steel, will get no credit for that sacrifice.

Thus, the meaning of the statement we quoted above, "God forges the good thought into a good deed. He does not forge a bad thought into a deed," takes on a new meaning. This saying can be understood as giving us a process. It can mean that a good thought leads to a valid deed, and combines with it to strengthen the good heart. A bad thought, however, does not lead to a valid deed, since even the deed is a sin.

So we see that there is value in doing good deeds for external reasons, as long as those reasons are positive and good. We don't need perfection, we don't need complete purity, in order to gain credit for good deeds. Which brings us to Purim.

Purim, at its essence, is compromised happiness at best. Remember, the same king Ahashverosh that had acquiesced in Haman's plan to annihilate the Jewish people was still on the throne the day after the Jews were saved. He could easily revive the decree at any time. So how can we be happy? Our hearts don't really feel it!

Therefore, comes the same solution as with the sacrifices. Perform actions of happiness with good intentions, and your heart will follow. Dress up in costumes, make merry, have a Lechaim! Do things to demonstrate happiness and gratitude to God, and even though the future is uncertain, you will feel that happiness growing inside your heart.

The Torah reading that contains the 10 Commandments is called Jethro. It commences with the state visit of Moses's father-in-law, Jethro. Some rabbis feel that this entire story of Jethro and his visit, which we shall describe shortly, took place after the 10 Commandments were given. Why, then, is it written beforehand?

Some claim that it is because of a common theme connecting Jethro and the revelation at Mount Sinai: Conversion. Jethro became convinced of the Jewish faith and converted. The entire Jewish people, upon receiving the 10 commandments, could be considered as converts as well. This is a perfectly acceptable explanation. I'd like to suggest another as well.

Both the Jethro story and the Sinaitic Revelation story contains three parts. Jethro comes to visit the Israelites and is welcomed in a grand ceremony. He then blesses God for having brought the children of Israel out of Egyptian bondage. Finally, he observes Moses attempting to judge every single bit of litigation that the people have all by himself. He counsels Moses to appoint judges of "thousands and hundreds and tens," to help bear the burden. Moses follows Jethro's instruction.

The Revelation starts with the dramatic and festive preparations for the event. The mountain is cordoned off, the people are to prepare themselves and purify themselves. Next, the first five of the 10 Commandments are given. Finally, the last five of the 10 Commandments are given. There is a reason why I divided the 10 Commandments into two parts, which is one of the reasons why they were given on two tablets. Allow me to explain my theory.

I believe that the 10 Commandments are more than simply 10 special mitzvot. These Commandments were singled out because they give Israel its identity. We are taught who is our God, and who are we to be. The first commandment is "I am the Lord thy God who brought you out of Egypt." Some ask why God did not identify Himself as the Lord who created the heavens and the earth? The answer is that these Commandments are to give Israel their identity. The fact that God created the heaven and the earth does not impact our identity. The fact that God brought us out of Egypt does.

In fact, way back at the burning bush, Moses was puzzled by the question of what merit the Israelites had? Why did they deserve to be redeemed? God responded, "When you bring them forth from Egypt, they will serve Me on this mountain." In other words, the Exodus and the Revelation must go together. Why?

Israel is a nation with a purpose in the world. We were afflicted with Egyptian slavery and oppression. We experienced firsthand man's inhumanity to man. A theme in the stories of the book of Genesis is fraternal tension and violence. It starts almost at the beginning, with Cain and Abel. God wants the world to be fixed, and that is the problem that needs fixing. When you read the newspapers today, you realize that almost all human suffering is the result of other humans. Would that we could wave a magic wand and make that disappear!

That is our main purpose. God, therefore, tells us that He is the One who brought us out of Egypt, so that we must appreciate the need to eliminate what we suffered in Egypt from the face of the earth. The other four of the first set of the commandments serve to further define that goal.

We are told not to have any other gods, meaning, not to espouse any other ideology or national goal.

We are told not to take the Lord's Name in vain. In other words, do not distort God's goal for the world by using His Name to justify any other ideology.

We are told to observe the Sabbath day, in order to make this mission a part of our conscious existence. We need to take time to reflect on it, meditate upon it, and recommit to it.

We are told to honor our parents, those who teach us the traditions and transmit this crucial mission to us. Our parents, our rabbis, our sages, are the way that we connect to God's teachings and our national goals.

The third section, the latter five commandments, are teaching us the potential obstacles to fulfilling these Divine goals. Any of the five character traits that lead to these sins will push the individual off of the track. Do not be consumed by hatred – thou shalt not kill. Do not live a life of lust – thou shalt not commit adultery. Do not be consumed by greed – thou shalt not steal. Do not live for jealousy – thou shalt not bear false witness against your compatriot. Finally, do not live in the pursuit of honor and the throes of jealousy – thou shalt not covet what is thy neighbor's.

I see a parallel to all of this in the introductory story of Jethro. Very often, we are incapable of seeing ourselves as we really are. When Jethro comes, he bears witness to the national character and potential of the children of Israel. His arrival is festive, just as the preparations for the Revelation were festive and dramatic. In both cases, we are about to get information about the most important question: Who are we and what are we supposed to do?

The answer to that is the first five of the commandments. And, in Jethro's case, he blesses God who "saved you from Pharaoh and Egypt. I now know that God is the greatest of all of the gods, because of that which they attempted to do to you." In other words, man's inhumanity to man, Egypt's attempts to harm and destroy Israel, were the very reason for God's redeeming them. Thus, this is a nation that must dedicate itself to eradicating that form of hatred from the face of the earth.

Thirdly, the second part of the 10 Commandments deals with the potential obstacles. Jethro sees a potential obstacle to the entire national project in Moses's insistence on being the sole judge. If he continues this way, Jethro implies, the people will never reach the promised land. Judaism can only survive when the Torah is accessible to everyone, in every generation. Moses's job is twofold: to receive and teach the people Torah, and to ensure that there will be future teachers of Torah to keep the tradition alive.

Thus will we achieve our national mission, and thus will any individual achieve any important project in their life. The first step is to recognize that importance, as symbolized by the festivities at the start of both stories. The second step is to define what that mission is, as symbolized by the first five commandments and Jethro's blessing of God. The third step is to be aware of, and prepare for, the obstacles that can prevent the mission from being accomplished. That is symbolized by the final five commandments, and by Jethro's correcting Moses's system for transmitting the message and the mission.

"The Lord did not guide them through the land of the Philistines, lest they see war and return to Egypt," we are told in the book of Exodus. This is strange, considering the fact that they will see war sooner rather than later in any event. In fact, shortly after they finished crossing the Red Sea, they are forced to do battle with Amalek!

But, before that, there is a much more fundamental question. After all, had the Israelites gone via the Philistine territories, they would have witnessed the splitting of the Red Sea. That miracle, considered by the Hagadah of Passover to be five times more significant than the 10 plagues, would never have happened! Why, then, does God need to explain His reason for avoiding the land of the Philistines as relating to war? They needed to go to the Red Sea in order to witness that earthshaking miracle!

The Katav Sofer offers a powerful explanation. Earlier in Exodus, the people do not believe Moses's news about the upcoming redemption "from shortness of breath and hard labor." The Rabbi explains the psychology. If you tell someone who is suffering that their situation will improve slightly, they will believe you and welcome the news. If you tell them that they will have a complete recovery within 24 hours, they will most probably reject what you say as false comfort.

The Israelites were suffering so tremendously that the only news they could handle would be of some improvement in their situation. It's enough to tell them that they will be eventually leaving Egypt. That, they might believe. But to tell them that there would be tremendous miracles and wonders, 10 plagues and the splitting of the sea, would be too much for them to accept. And so it was. Someone who is in such a low situation is incapable of believing in anything more than a moderate improvement in their situation.

Thus, says the Rabbi, the newly freed slaves will still be unable to trust in their own future. They will not have faith in the face of something terrible that they have never seen before: war. They will immediately run to that which is familiar, to Egypt. It's not that they are bad people, it's that nothing in their experience has prepared them for the possibility that they could actually fight and win a war! It is simply too much to ask for them to accept.

All of that changed at the Red Sea. When Israel witnessed God split the sea, and drown the Egyptians in it, their view of what is possible changed completely. "The maidservant at the sea saw more than the prophet Ezekiel in his prophecies," say our sages. They now know that God is capable of anything in this world, and that they are on His team.

When the Jewish people arrive at Mount Sinai, God tells Moses that they shall be "a kingdom of priests." In other words, every Israelite will be both a king and a priest. What does this mean? Why this strange combination? Let's look at a king first. This is practical, for we all have the potential to become kings.

What defines a king? Simply, the ability to rule a people and get things done. The king gives an order, it must be carried out. It is potential and power. The Israelites became like kings at the splitting of the sea because they now believed in the power of God, and themselves as God's people, to create tremendous change in the world. And, indeed, Jews have been changing the world from then on. But, if the king rules his people, who rules the king? Who, or what, tells him what to do?

Kings are certainly guided by policy, tradition, advisers and so forth. But the main thing that guides the king is his goal and purpose as being king. A king dedicated to his own glory and wealth, as history has known so many times, will be a tyrant and an oppressor. A king guided by the desire to protect and advance his people will be a benevolent king.

This is where the concept of "priest" comes into play. A priest is dedicated to the service of God. He is a servant. Thus, a king who regards himself as a servant of his people and his God will fulfill his role magnificently. This is the task of the Jewish people. We must be kings, aware of our potential to change the entire world. At the same time, we must regard ourselves as priests, as servants of God. We must let Him define our goals, the goals that guide us in our "kingdoms." God wishes to protect and advance humanity, to improve it and bring it to a state of peace and goodness.

Thus, the detour to the Red Sea prepared the Israelites for the wars that would start in just a few days and weeks. The difference was, now that they saw God's potential and power, they were capable of believing in their eventual ability to prevail. They became kings, and next turn their steps towards Mount Sinai, where they will become priests as well. This is the Jewish mission in every generation: to believe in God and achieve the impossible.

It appears that Joseph reconciles with the brothers after he reveals his identity to them. He calms them down and says, "while you may have thought [selling me as a slave] was a bad thing, God considered it a good thing. It enabled the saving of an entire people [from starvation]." They then proceed to live their lives apparently at peace. But all is not well.

After their patriarch, Jacob, dies, the brothers are seized by the fear that Joseph will now take revenge upon them. They invent a message from their father: "Please forgive the sins of your brothers, for they have done evil to you." When Joseph hears this, he cries. Why, now, years after they supposedly reconciled, are the brothers in a panic that Joseph will pay them back? What was left undone?

There is an amazing story told about the great Rabbi Moshe Feinstein. After a dispute between two people was adjudicated by him, Rabbi Moshe instructed the parties to forgive each other. One did so easily. The other hesitated. Rabbi Moshe pressed him. The fellow said, "Not to worry, everything is okay." This was not good enough for Rabbi Feinstein. "You must say explicitly that you forgive him," insisted the Rabbi. The man gave in.

After the litigants left, a student asked Rabbi Moshe why he was so insistent. The Rabbi answered, "On Yom Kippur, we read the prayer about the 10 martyrs, the 10 rabbis killed by Rome. The prayer says they were killed as a punishment for the sin of the brothers when they sold Joseph. Wasn't that resolved at the time? The answer is, Joseph never said to the brothers that he forgives them. He said that it was for the best, that God had a plan, but he never said, 'I forgive you.'"

In other words, there was no complete reconciliation. The brothers felt this, and years later they still had a sense of guilt and fear regarding Joseph. How did this happen? Wasn't Joseph extremely magnanimous with them? He seemed to imply that they shouldn't feel any guilt whatsoever! "God considered a good thing," Joseph reassured them.

That is exactly where Joseph erred. His mistake was in absolving them from sin. If he absolves them from sin, then they didn't do anything wrong. How can they ever apologize? The brothers never do apologize. Joseph had prevented it. The closest they get is the invented message, put in the mouth of their deceased father, begging Joseph to forgive them. When they deliver this message to Joseph, they fall on their faces and proclaim, "We will be your slaves." But they, themselves, never say they are sorry. And Joseph never demanded of them. And so, they swept it under the rug where it continued to fester throughout their lives, and throughout Jewish history at different times.

Why did Joseph and the brothers fail to deal with the elephant in the room? Why did Joseph short-circuit his brothers' need to apologize? While that's a question for psychologists, I will hazard a suggestion. Sometimes people are uncomfortable being human. Being human means that you have feelings and that you are fallible. Very often, the people who appear toughest are the most sensitive. That toughness is an overcompensation for vulnerability. Joseph cries a lot in this whole episode, and those tears are his humanity seeking to express itself. Each time he suppresses it and acts as if he is above all this, his vulnerability chokes him up.

There is an additional aspect. There is no conflict between individuals that is not two-sided. Joseph also needed to apologize for the way he treated the brothers in his youth. His dreams, his privileged status, and his being a tattletale to his father contributed to the brothers' hatred. True, what they did to him was far worse, but he had what to say "sorry" for as well.

But if he absolves them from any guilt, he also absolves himself. Thus, Joseph's approach of, "Let's leave the past alone and just get on with our lives," is extremely unhealthy. We must own and embrace our own humanity. I once asked my teacher, Rabbi Aaron Soloveichik, if one is allowed to tell one's spouse how another person has hurt them. Would that be considered "Lashon Hara," or, evil speech? Rabbi Soloveitchik answered, "of course he can tell. If he can't tell his wife, it will eat him up from inside. Who else can he tell?"

The blockage to reconciliation is when we try to be above ourselves, negating our own humanity and feelings. We need to be truthful about what is in our hearts. We need to think about those with whom we have uncomfortable feelings, and we need to embrace them, too. That means being honest, sharing our feelings, and deciding together if we really want to have a future relationship. I can promise that reconciling like this is far sweeter than any revenge could ever be.

In the remarkable scene when Moses and Aaron confront Pharaoh, there is a contest of the staffs. Aaron throws his to the ground, and it becomes a snake. Pharaoh, unimpressed, signals to his magicians to do the same thing. Surprisingly, God allows the trick to work, and the Egyptians' staffs also become snakes. The big twist, pardon the pun, is that Aaron's snake swallows the snakes of the Egyptians, and then returns to being a staff when Aaron grabs it. The Egyptians are left without their staffs or snakes. Tradition tells us that the staff of Aaron did not gain size despite having swallowed the three Egyptian snakes.

The commentator Katav Sofer writes that this episode teaches us a fundamental principle of miracles. Both a snake and a staff can inflict pain, but one is the initiator and one is merely the means. A snake initiates the attack. A staff is a passive piece of wood in the hands of somebody else. Pharaoh believed that he was a snake, that he controlled the suffering inflicted on the children of Israel.

In truth, he was merely a staff. His snakes were swallowed by Aaron's snake, and became a staff in Aaron's hands. In other words, Pharaoh was a puppet, not an initiator.

Why was the staff necessary for performing miracles? In order to hide the miracle as much as possible. This is because open miracles are vastly inferior to concealed ones. Open miracles involve a complete suspension of the rules of nature. Such a suspension will, of necessity, be short-lived. God prefers nature, and will not suspend its laws indefinitely. Even the miracle of the manna, the longest lasting miracle in the Torah, came to an end after 40 years.

God vastly prefers a hidden maker of miracles. In other words, He prefers when we human beings are the agents of miracles. He prefers when we lift up the world towards heaven, rather than heaven coming down and stepping on nature's toes. So, even though the plagues in Egypt were fairly open miracles, Moses and Aaron should still use the staff to show that a man must be the one to bring about the miracle. God does the work, but man must be the initiator.

In Judaism, there is a rule: we do not rely upon miracles. A person is not allowed to enter into an impossible situation and rely on the fact that God will suspend the laws of nature to save him. There is a joke about the man who is urged to get on the bus out of town before the flood waters rise up and drown him. He declined, claiming that he will pray and God will save him. The water comes up to his waist, and a boat floats by. "Climb aboard," the people yell. "No," says the man, "I have faith that God will save me." The water is up to his shoulders, and a helicopter lowers a ladder for him. "No," says the man, "I have faith that God will save me."

He drowns. When he gets up to heaven, he complains that he had perfect faith! "Why, God, didn't you save me?" To which God replies, "You fool! I sent you a bus, a boat, and a helicopter. Why didn't you get on board?"

God does not prefer revealed miracles. In a very real sense, God wants us all to use The Staff of God that is in our possession. He wants us to pursue the good, even if it seems impossible. We must reach out the staff, and God will do the rest.

What is the greatest miracle? When a person lives their life according to the Commandments. This world is so full of temptation, social pressure, and skepticism. It is very hard to live a life of faith. I remember being teased about the kosher hamburgers I insisted on eating and a non-Jewish summer camp. And yet, I would not touch the nonkosher hamburgers. A person living a life of holiness is, indeed, the greatest miracle. In all of life's moments of choice, we must grab the staff of God and stretch it out. A miracle will happen, and we will walk in the right path.