Balak

Numbers 22:2−25:9

D'var Torah By: Steven Kushner for ReformJudaism.org

"Blessed is the One who spoke and the world came to be . . ." (P'sukei D'zimrah, morning liturgy). It is among the most central of Jewish values. The power of the word. God created the universe by "speaking" it into being. The Torah, the link connecting God and Israel, is also known as mikra, "that which is (verbally) called." And the most essential communications of that sacred text, the Ten Commandments, are not actually referred to in the Jewish tradition as "commandments" but rather Aseret HaDib'rot, the "Ten Utterances."

The word is the currency of covenant. God speaks to us and we listen (Sh'ma Yisrael). Among the most serious breaches of our relationship with the Divine is to utter God's name in vain. Conversely, when our daughters and sons come of age to assume their place within the structure of that covenant we ask them to master the word. The list goes on and on.

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Chukat

Numbers 19:1−22:1

D'var Torah By: Steven Kushner for ReformJudaism.org

Holy Cow

It is the most enigmatic mitzvah in all of Torah: the parah adumah, the "red heifer." If a person comes in contact with a human corpse, she or he must go for ritual cleansing. The "defiled" individual shall then be sprinkled with a concoction made of the mixture of fresh water (literally "living" waters, mayim chayim) and the ashes of a slaughtered and burned "red" cow that had absolutely no blemishes nor ever bore a yoke. But here's the paradox: while the mixture of these "waters of lustration" (mei nidah) cleansed the person who had been rendered ritually impure by contact with a corpse, the individuals who burned the cow, made contact with its ashes, and sprinkled the mixture on the "defiled" person would be rendered impure in the process. In other words, the act of making one person ritually pure makes the purveyor of purity impure.

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Korach

Numbers 16:1−18:32

The Way We Were: The Need to Get Remembering Right

D'var Torah By: Steven Kushner for ReformJudaism.org

    Chadeish yameinu k'kedem, "Renew our days as of old." (Lamentations 5:21)

Perhaps not as dramatic as "Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear" (from the opening sequence of The Lone Ranger), but the sentiment is the same. A nostalgia for a time gone by. The good old days. Simply put, the past was better than the present.

It's a common theme for the wilderness generation. Recently freed of an oppressive existence, but one nonetheless characterized by certainty, the Israelites are hard-pressed to adjust to the uncertainty of freedom. From the very moment of their redemption at the sea, they yearn for the clarity of the past. Whether it is a lack of water or food or a wanting for a more varied diet, they complain. They grumble. In time, they will even rebel. And throughout it all, their mantra is a constant: life was better in Egypt.
 
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Sh'lach L'cha

Numbers 13:1−15:41

Spiritual Authenticity

D'var Torah By: Steven Kushner for ReformJudaism.org

I think it's fair to say that just about everybody knows that the Israelites were condemned to wander in the wilderness for forty years, a biblical generation. With the exceptions of Joshua and Caleb, all those who had witnessed the redemption at the sea would die without ever setting foot into the Promised Land. What led to their life sentence of ceaseless wandering, however, is less well known. This week's parashah—Sh'lach L'cha—tells that story.

The setting is clear: Israel is on the verge of entering the Land of which they and their ancestors have spoken and dreamed. The moment is pregnant with excitement and trepidation. Moses, on directions from God, has sent in an advance team, one scout from each of the twelve tribes. And now, after forty days of reconnoitering the land, they return with pomegranates and figs, with a cluster of grapes so large it takes two men to carry it. They tell of a Land of extraordinary wonders, of an abundance of wondrous natural resources, a Land that truly "flows with milk and honey" (see Numbers 13:27, 14:8). But they also tell of fortress cities and the inhabitants of the Land, of a people whose physical size is both intimidating and daunting. The people respond with cries of fear. They want to go back to Egypt. Moses and Aaron are beside themselves (once again). Only Joshua and Caleb, two of the twelve scouts, want to continue on with their sacred journey. For this they will merit the reward of eventually crossing the Jordan River. As for everyone else, they will neither enter the Land nor return to Egypt. They will drift aimlessly in the wilderness of Sinai until they die.

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B’ha’alotcha

Numbers 8:1-12:16

Sacred Leadership

D'var Torah By: Steven Kushner for ReformJudaism.org

This past winter saw the release of a movie version of the Exodus story, directed by Ridley Scott. I will leave it to film critics and biblical scholars to debate the merits and deficiencies of the production. For me, the single most symbolic point of departure from the biblical original comes at the Red Sea, but is not the parting of the water (which, admittedly, was graphically most impressive). Everything you need to know about the filmmaker's orientation, and where it differs from Torah, is made clear when Moses (played by Christian Bale)—despairing that the sea poses a seemingly insurmountable obstacle in the Israelites flight from Pharaoh's chariots—lifts up his sword and casts it into the waters.

Watching this, I was taken aback. What has happened to Moses' staff? What's Christian Bale doing with a sword? Could this have been the model Torah wanted us to embrace of the leader of Israel? Moses as warrior?

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