The Ability to Self-Correct (5771/2010)

What makes Sodom such a sinful city?  Torah tells us that the people would gather into a mob to abuse visiting strangers.  Our Sages add that only the wealthy were welcome as guests in Sodom. The poor were abused, humiliated, expelled or killed.

Midrash Pirkei d’ Rabbi Eliezer (3rd century) teaches that under the laws of Sodom, sharing wealth with the transient poor was a criminal squandering of the city’s wealth. Worse, this law reflected the majority view, as not even ten righteous people lived in the city. Thus, Sodom did not have the resources to fix its moral problems.

Like Sodom, Canada also prefers its strangers to be wealthy. Immigrants must possess a certain amount of property (or at least the power to earn it) in order to become residents. But, unlike Sodom, we balance these policies with our moral resources: social critics, groups that support the poor, and advocates for individual immigrants in difficult circumstances.  We have the ability to judge and correct ourselves.

Torah teaches in many places that a commitment to care for immigrants and the poor is essential. Countries that fail to care fall apart when inequality and rage become too great. But it’s important to recognize that the Torah does not require perfection. Instead, it reminds us to use deliberation, legal systems and personal example in a constant social process of moral improvement.

Inspired by Rabbi Steven Pik-Nathan

 

***

Akedat Yitzchak: Reading Between the Lines (5770/2009)

“God said: please take your son, your only one, whom you love, Yitzchak…and offer him there for a burnt offering. (Bereisheet/Genesis 22:2)

Rashi (Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, 1040-1105) comments on this disturbing verse:

The term ‘please’ shows that God is not commanding Avraham, but is making a request. What is the nature of the request? God is saying, “I request of you to withstand this test for my sake, so that people won’t be able to say that your life experiences were not substantial.

Why does God take so long to tell Avraham clearly whom he should offer? Because hidden in the text is a dialogue between God and Avraham. God says, “Take your son.” Avraham says, “I have two sons.” God says, “Your only son.” Avraham says, “Each one is his mother’s only son.” God says, “The one you love.” Avraham says, “I love them both.” God says, “Yitzchak.”

Why did God tell Avraham to offer his son, rather than to ritually slaughter him? Because the Holy One of Blessing did not wish for Avraham to slaughter him, only bring him up the mountain and offer him. How do we know this? Because after Avraham brought Yitzchak up, God said, “Bring him back down.”

Rashi’s point: We should follow the example of Avraham, our spiritual parent. We should all recognize that God acts in partnership with us; that God invites us to question and discuss everything religious; and that, though we may suffer at times in our lives, God’s loving presence is always available to help bring us back.

***

Hagar, Sarah, and Hope (5767/2006)

In Torah, Sarah and Hagar have a troubled relationship. They live as family, but Sarah is mistress of the house and Hagar is her legal property. Hagar gives birth to Avraham’s first son Yishmael, but the family birthright is destined for Sarah’s son Yitzchak. The two women take turns “lording it” over one another emotionally. Their sons, however, seem to have a fine relationship: playing, fulfilling family responsibilities, encouraging their children to marry one another.

Over the centuries, however, theologians used the figures of Sarah and Hagar to describe conflicts between the women’s descendents. In early Christian writings, Paul uses Sarah and Hagar to argue that Christianity is the true development of Judaism. Hagar, the slave, whose son is born of the flesh, represents Jews who cling to the old revelation. But Sarah, the free woman, whose son is born through the divine word, represents the Christians, whose children receive the true inheritance. Medieval rabbis fought back intellectually, insisting that Sarah represented the Jews and Hagar represented the Christians. They highlighted Christianity’s debt to Judaism by teaching that Hagar chose to become a slave to Sarah.

In our time, Sarah and Hagar have come to represent Jews and Muslims. Influenced by medieval interpretations of Torah, we imagine that we have inherited current tensions from Biblical times. Perhaps we can find hope rather than fatalism in the text of the Torah. Perhaps we can remember that, according to Torah, the sons of Sarah and Hagar were close, and that they did not carry on their mothers’ conflict.