STAM
TORAH
PARSHAS
EMOR/ LAG BAOMER 5779
“NO
EXCUSES”[1]
During my late adolescence, I had to make an
appearance in traffic court to fight a ticket. My father accompanied me for
moral support. After I explained my case about what occurred, the judge asked me
for my plea – ‘guilty with an explanation’ or ‘not guilty’. I had committed the
infraction, but I felt I had a valid excuse for doing it. So, I naively replied
‘guilty with an excuse’. The judge looked almost apologetic when he replied
that once I uttered the word ‘guilty’, even with a valid explanation, legally there
had to be a fine and points. I understood that the judge was intimating that I should
have pled ‘not guilty’, and then he could have mitigated the consequence, such
as dismissing the points.
At the time, I wasn’t aware that traffic
court in America is a game, and you gotta know the rules.
A few years ago, during my first trip
through a certain town, I received a speeding ticket after being caught by a
cop sitting at a speed trap[2].
When I went to court, the prosecutor allowed me to plead guilty to parking at a
fire hydrant, which would result in my receiving a fine, but no points. I later
realized that almost everyone in that court room was offered the same plea. It
was a small village, and I’m not sure if there was more than one fire hydrant
in the whole town. If an outsider was watching the proceedings, he probably would’ve
wandered why everyone in that court had waited on line to park at the town’s
only fire hydrant.
At
the end of parshas Emor, the Torah relates the tragic story of the blasphemer: “The
son of a Jewish mother went out in the midst of B’nai Yisroel; and they quarreled
in the camp - the son of the Jewish woman and a Jewish man. The son of the Jewish woman uttered the Name of Hashem blasphemously,
and the name of his mother was Shlomis bas Divri.”
Although
the Torah is vague about what occurred, the Medrash[3] relates two possibilities:
One possibility is that the mekalel was mocking aspects of the Mishkan and
another Jew started arguing with him for being disrespectful. His reaction was
to curse Hashem. The other possibility is that the makalel was trying to pitch
his tent in the tribe of Dan since that was his mother’s tribe. Some of the
other members of the tribe argued that he had no right to pitch his tent on
their land, since tribe is paternal, and his father was an Egyptian. When they
presented their case before Moshe and Moshe ruled against him, he blasphemed
Hashem.
The
father of the mekalel was the Egyptian that Moshe killed in Egypt, which
resulted in Moshe’s having to flee Egypt for many decades[4]. The mother of this
mekalel – Shlomis bas Divri - was a flirtatious woman[5]. An Egyptian taskmaster forced
her husband out to the fields, and then slept with Shlomis. The Egyptian then went
to kill the Jewish husband, but Moshe saw the encounter and killed the Egyptian
first.
The
Kli Yakar suggests that it is likely that the mekalel harbored a grudge against
Moshe for his whole life because Moshe had killed his father.
It
is clear that the mekalel had a difficult life, feeling like an outcast
socially and physically. He was the product of the only act of immorality between
a Jewish woman and an Egyptian, and he seemed to have no place among the Jewish
nation.
In
our society, people often confuse an explanation with an excuse. In a world
where people can be acquitted of crimes by pointing to a difficult childhood, or
neglectful parents, the punishment of the mekalel seems misplaced. How could they
have killed such a person? Shouldn’t they have been more understanding of his difficult
upbringing and looked the other way? Doesn’t the Torah promote empathy and tolerance?
The
answer would seem to be that although the makalel’s actions can be understood
in the context of his life, that remains an explanation, not an excuse. Cursing
Hashem is inexcusable even when a person has a difficult past. Although one
must deal compassionately with his fellow Jews and seek to understand them, there
are limits that cannot be crossed. As Jews, our foremost responsibility is to
Hashem and the ideals of His Torah, irrespective of any other personal challenges.
Rav
Shimshon Rafael Hirsch notes that there was a more insidious motivation for the
mekalel’s actions. When the Torah calls the mekalel the son of an Egyptian man,
more than just defining his father’s nationality, it contains the motivation
behind his sin. He felt that the culture of Judaism was burdensome, and he
wanted to define himself as the son of an ‘ish Mitzri’. He longed for the permissive
Egyptian culture and its decadence. In that sense, he was the polar opposite of
Moshe, who had initially been identified by Yitro’s daughters as an ‘ish
Mitzri’, but had distanced himself, in the extreme, from the lifestyle of the
Egyptians. This mekalel longed to return to such a lifestyle.
Whether
the makalel was venting pent up frustration, or if it was a calculated act; it
was an inexcusable act. Even in the most difficult of circumstances we are
expected to act responsibly and with foresight.[6]
This concept is important
to teach our children as well.
In 2013, 15-year-old Ethan
Couch, killed four people while driving under the influence. Shockingly, he
received no prison time because, due to his family’s great wealth, he was said
to suffer from “Affluenza”, an inability to understand that actions cause
consequences.
“Affluenza is not about
wealth. It is about a generation of parents who want to make their children so
"happy" that they fail them miserably. Let's face it, it's so much
easier to say yes and throw money at your kid than saying no and meting out
consequences. But loving parenting also includes teaching your child this
monumental rule of life: You make things happen. Whatever you do kiddo, there
will be a reaction; story of our lives. The sooner we let our children in on
this life principle, the healthier they'll be.”[7]
One of the components
necessary to be successful in any endeavor, is the ability to take responsibility,
and to fess up to shortcomings and failures.
Successful people recognize the
critical difference between an explanation and an excuse. An explanation accepts
full responsibility, while an excuse places blame, and minimizes liability, in
order to avoid consequences. Explanations can be pivotal to reaching goals; excuses
sabotage those efforts.
Children often blame others in order
to shift the blame away from themselves. The problem is that many people never
mature from that juvenile approach, and spend their lives blaming everyone else
for their problems and challenges. They are the greatest victims of their
pedantic self-indignation.
Shirking responsibility temporarily
relieves feelings of shame, guilt, and fear. But in the long run, not recognizing
where one could have better, robs a person of the ability to grow and improve.
Conversely, all great accomplishments
are the result of the efforts of individuals who are willing to take
responsibility. This is true not only in society and the physical world, but in
the world of spiritual accomplishment as well. In fact, the entire transmission
of Torah is the result of the incredible tenacity, resilience, and acceptance
of responsibility of Rabbi Akiva. After losing twenty-four thousand students in
a short time period, Rabbi Akiva would have been justified in giving excuses
why he could not go on. Rabbi Akiva understood however, that if he did not
begin again the transmission of Torah would end. Rather than offer excuses,
Rabbi Akiva told his new students an explanation:
“Rabbi Akiva said: If you have disciplines
in your youth, produce disciples in your old age, for you do not know which
ones will endure, these or these… Rabbi Akiva had twelve thousand students from
Acco to Antifros, and they all died during one period. Why? Because their eyes
were pained, these to these. In the end he produced seven students[8]….
He said to them: “My sons, the first ones died because their eyes were pained
from one to the other. Pay attention that you do not act
as they did.” They stood up and they filled all of Eretz Yisroel with Torah.”[9]
The holiday of Lag Ba’Omer celebrates
the eternity of Torah, a result of the unbroken chain of its transmission. At certain
points in our history it seemed like that transmission was in danger, but during
those times were always individuals who assumed responsibility and ensured that
Torah would never be forgotten.
Two of these great heroes were Rabbi
Akiva and Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. Both suffered tremendously during their lives
and both could have offered excuses why they could not go on. The fact that they
persevered and continue to feel responsible to teach Torah had a perpetually
vital effect upon the Torah world.
Lag BaOmer reminds us that being part
of an eternal chain comes with a heavy price tag. Building eternity does not have
room for excuses, justifications, or exemptions.
“The son of the Jewish woman uttered
the Name blasphemously”
“Pay attention that you do not act as
they did.”
Rabbi Dani Staum, LMSW
Rebbe/Guidance Counselor – Heichal HaTorah
Principal – Ohr Naftoli- New Windsor
[1] The following
is the lecture I gave in Kehillat New Hempstead, Shabbos KodAlthoiugh tesh parshas
Emor 5776
[2] Where
the speed limit suddenly drops
[3] Vayikra Rabbah 22:3
[4] see Rashi Shemos 2:11
[5] Her name
‘Shlomis bas Divri’ alludes to the fact that she ‘made peace’ (shlomis) and was
chatty (divri) with men
[6] This
explanation was based on an essay by Rabbi Maury Grebenau
[7] “Affluenza”
by M. Gary Neuman, Huffington Post
[8] One of
those students was Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai
[9] Bereishis
Rabbah 61:3
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