This week’s Parsha, Va’era, recounts the beginning of the Ten Plagues which Hashem inflicted upon Egypt. After each of the first five plagues, the Torah records that Pharaoh hardened his heart to prevent showing mercy to the Jews; for the final five plagues, Hashem is said to have hardened Pharaoh’s heart.
Rabbi Immanuel Bernstein writes the following:
“Various classic answers have been provided for this question by the early commentators.
“The Rambam states that, in subjugating and persecuting the Jewish people as he did, Pharaoh had sinned to such a heinous extent that his punishment itself entailed having his free-will removed from him and then being punished for saying no.
“The Ramban, based on Midrash, explains that Pharaoh hardened his own heart during the first five plagues, in response to which Hashem hardened his heart regarding the second five...
“A fascinating and illuminating approach to the entire concept of Hashem hardening Pharaoh’s heart is found in the writings of the Maaseh Hashem. Rather than understanding that Hashem reached into Pharaoh’s decision-making apparatus and turned off the switch, leaving him fundamentally incapable of deciding to let the Jewish people go, the Maaseh Hashem explains this idea in a much more natural way.
“Often, people are in situations where they may say that they ‘have no choice’ but to pursue a certain course of action, when in reality what they mean is that the personality traits that govern them leave them no choice. Someone who has been insulted may feel that he is ‘forced’ to leave the room. Of course he can choose to stay if he wants, but his pride will not allow him to do so. Similarly, someone who subscribes to the notion that he is all-knowing or all-powerful may feel ‘compelled’ to cover up a mistake or a weakness. In truth, he is fully capable of admitting his error, but the way in which he wishes to see – or project - himself effectively bars this option from him.
“The Maaseh Hashem explains that it was in this sense that Hashem hardened Pharaoh’s heart....
“We see the idea of Hashem ‘hardening someone’s heart’ through a presentation of events which is then interpreted by their corrupt perception, leading them to make decisions which are ultimately their undoing.
“In light of this approach... we will appreciate that understanding the idea of the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart in this way will have major implications when we come to consider whether he was ultimately responsible and culpable for his decisions. At every point in the proceedings he was essentially capable of choosing the right path, but his corrupt character traits prevented him from doing so... With the fundamental capacity to say yes intact, Pharaoh was thus held accountable and culpable for each of the times he said no.”
Rabbi Bernstein’s observations, based on Maaseh Hashem, have particular pertinence to the tumultuous events of recent weeks. We have witnessed for several years now an increasing polarization of political views in our society, as people become entrenched further and further apart in their ideas. At its worst, such extreme positions can culminate in irreconcilable hatred and violence. And yet, as Rabbi Bernstein pointedly observes, “A person cannot claim immunity from the consequences of wrongful actions simply because they are [the] product of ego and stubbornness.” Ultimately, we remain accountable for our choices and interactions with others.
In a recent article: (https://mishpacha.com/gone-missing/),
Rabbi Aaron Lopiansky criticizes those who have become so hardened in their political views as to support untenable actions and reject engagement with people with opposing views. Our rich Jewish tradition is one that has strongly encouraged and welcomed tolerant discourse and debate from a wide variety of perspectives. To make such conflict constructive rather than destructive, Rabbi Lopiansky observes, requires civility and menschlichkeit. We are charged with the accountability today to unharden our hearts, and to open ourselves to difficult and challenging exchange. In doing so, we may discover how to bring Hashem’s ways of chesed into our families, communities, and society.

​"The parasha we are reading today is Shemot. It is about a baby boy placed in the Nile river to be safe, because Pharaoh wanted all the Jewish baby boys to be dead. Pharaoh was afraid that the Hebrews would become too many and too strong that they could take over the kingdom. At the end of the river, Pharaoh's daughter sees the baby boy and raises him as her own, with a little help from his birth mother Yocheved and his sister Miriam. When Moshe the baby boy grows up, he sees a man getting whipped almost to death by Pharaoh’s servants. Moshe kills Pharaoh’s servant and runs far away to a place called Midyan. There, Moshe rescues Jethro’s daughters and Jethro repays Moshe by hiring him to become a shepherd to his sheep, and Moses marries one of his Jethro’s daughters, Tzipporah. One day when Moshe is rallying up the sheep, he sees a burning bush with God speaking out of it. God tells Moshe to go back to Egypt and say to Pharaoh, “Let my people go!” Pharaoh refuses and made it harder for the Jews.
"When Moshe's parents put him in a basket they didn’t know whether he would cross the Nile river safely. Moshe's parents didn’t have a choice whether or not to raise him or put him in the Nile because he was otherwise going to be killed. Miriam followed the baby beside the Nile to see what would happen.
"When Pharaoh's daughter saw the baby, she knew that Moshe was a Hebrew. The problem was that Pharaoh was her father and he didn’t like Hebrew babies. If Pharaoh saw the baby, what would he do? Pharaoh’s daughter, however, was kind and brave. She decided to keep Moshe not caring what Pharaoh might do. Then Miriam cleverly came up to Pharaoh’s daughter and asked if she would like a Hebrew nurse maid to take care of the baby. Pharaoh’s daughter agreed and gave Yocheved some money for taking care of Moshe. That way, she made it possible not only for the Hebrew baby boy to survive, but also grow up with his Mom and family.
"The name that we call Pharaoh’s daughter is Batya. We know her name is Batya from the tanach ( תנ”ך ) from Chapter One of divrei hiyamem (also known as Chronicles) in the verse where it says, 'These were the sons of Bityah daughter of Pharaoh, who Mered married.' Mered was another name for Caleb, who was a Jewish spy and a hero and a leader of the Jews. The midrash says that when the Jews left Egypt, Batya left her father’s castle and came along with them, and lived her life as a Jewish woman with high respect. Thanks to Batya for saving Moshe, the Jewish people are still here today.
"The name Batya means 'daughter of God'. The Midrash tells us she got this name because G-d said to Batya, 'Moses was not your son, yet you called him your son. You too, are not my daughter, but I shall call you My daughter.'
"Batya taught us that taking risks sometimes can be helpful and save people, places or things that others love and respect. Batya was brave; she took a huge step to save a baby who was a Hebrew that her own father hated. But she knew that this baby had a whole life ahead of him. Thanks to Batya -- I am here today celebrating my bat mitzvah.

What legacy do we wish to leave our loved ones?
In this week’s Parsha, Vayechi, we find Ya’akov Avinu -- our forefather Jacob/Israel -- upon his deathbed, at the end of his eventful and tumultuous life. He chooses to do something remarkable: he provides each of his children, and two of his grandchildren (Ephraim and Menashe), personal verses to describe and guide them.
There are many ways we transmit love to our children and descendants, by providing them security, nurturing, guidance, attention, and care. Ya’akov gave his children, B’nei Yisrael, something further; he granted them honesty. Each child was to become the eventual forefather of one of the tribes of Israel, and he provided each one clear insight into their unique nature.
The poetic messages were not by any means sugar-coated. He likens Dan to a serpent, Issachar to a donkey, Benjamin to a wolf. He reminds Reuben of his usurping his father’s bed; he curses the wrath of Simeon and Levi. Yet Jacob’s messages do not suggest meanness or cruelty. The rabbinic commentator Abarbanel states that Jacob needed to assess the strengths and weaknesses of each son, and which one would assume leadership of the people of Israel. In the presence of the whole family, Jacob clearly communicates to Judah, “Your brothers will praise you… and prostrate themselves to you… The sceptre shall not depart from Judah… and unto him shall be the obedience of nations” (Bereshit 49:8-10). Despite being just the fourth-eldest of his siblings (after Reuben, Simeon and Levi), Judah had repeatedly shown leadership in key moments. He demonstrated certain qualities which superseded those of his brothers, who nonetheless became family and tribal leaders in their own rights.
Contemporary author and lecturer Alfie Kohn challenges many of the common paradigms of education and parenting today. He describes how the repeated strategy of praise as a parenting or teaching technique – e.g., through the repeated intonation of “Good job!” – can surprisingly have a deleterious effect on children. According to Kohn, the choice to engage in positive/negative reinforcement is a legacy of the psychological school of behaviourism, which likens human behaviour to that of animals. The use of calculated praise can convey to children the sense that love for them is conditional upon good/proper behaviour, rather than unconditionally provided. He proposes that, instead of using external rewards and punishments to reinforce or deter behaviour, adults can better capitalize on the intrinsic motivation of children (to discover the world and engage constructively with others) by describing things accurately and honestly to them. This enables learners to understand the outcomes and effects of their actions, and to develop a better gauge of what decisions to make in future.
Ya’akov Avinu understood that empty praise would not suffice to guide his children into their future. He gave them not the feedback that they wanted, but the feedback that they needed to become greater people and leaders. We can see that his words indeed had long-term effects. The tribe of Levi, whose forefather acted murderously and impulsively in avenging his sister Dinah, instead channeled their force into becoming the priestly leaders and guides of the Israelites. And the tribe of Judah, the projected leader, indeed became the anchor of the Jewish people; so much so that virtually all surviving Jews are descended from this one tribe.
As we enter into the secular calendar year of 2021, in these difficult times, I hope that we can follow the example of Israel, the forefather and namesake of our nation. Let us be prepared to engage in honest and occasionally difficult dialogue, in order to cultivate greater wisdom among ourselves and one another.
​

Friday, December 25, 2020 happens to coincide with the Jewish fast day of Asarah b’Tevet - the tenth day of the month of Tevet. On this day, in 587 BCE, Babylonian armies under the reign of the evil King Nebuchadnezzar surrounded Jerusalem and laid siege to the city. This event marked a tragic milestone leading eventually to the conquest of Judea and Israel by the Babylonians, and the first forced exile of our people from our Holy Land. The day is marked with fasting from sunrise to sunset, and is one of the rare occasions where a Jewish fast day occurs on a Friday.
In this week’s parsha, Vayigash, Joseph and his brothers are reconciled. As Egyptian viceroy, he sends his brothers back to Canaan in chariots to come gather their father Jacob to bring him down to Egypt. “When they [the brothers] told him [Jacob] all of Joseph's words that he had said to them, and he saw the wagons that Joseph had sent to carry him, the spirit of their father Jacob was revived” (Bereshit 45:27). Rashi comments that the chariots (agalot) were an allusion to the laws of eglah arufah (the broken-necked heifer) - the very Torah laws that Jacob studied with Joseph prior to his being sold into slavery and sent to Egypt. When Jacob saw the chariots, it signalled to him that Joseph had never forgotten his Jewish learnings even in all his time in Egypt.
Upon their arrival in Egypt, Joseph invites several of his brothers along with their father Jacob to present themselves to the Pharaoh. Pharaoh asks Jacob his age (“how many are the days of the years of your life?”) and Jacob answers that he is 137 years old, and astonishingly adds that the days of his life were “few and unhappy” and that he did not — and would not — reach the age of his fathers before him.
Years ago, my rabbi, Ronnie Cahana, shared with me his insights on this section. Jacob had just experienced the elation of reuniting with his beloved son and the reconciliation of his family, so how could he portray his life in such a negative light? According to Rabbi Cahana, although the Pharaoh showed goodness to Joseph and his family, he nonetheless tended to be highly acquisitive of wealth and power. When he saw the evidently aged Jacob, Pharaoh sought to find out how he could acquire the one thing — great old age (length of years) — that eluded his control. Jacob’s response was intended to show Pharaoh that the attainment of old age can prove meaningless, and that one’s years can indeed seem “few and unhappy”, if one lives their life in vain pursuits.
While Jacob may have provided an instructive lesson to Pharaoh, the Chachamim (Jewish Sages) note that he missed an opportunity as well. Jewish insight holds that a person is meant to be thankful to Hashem for bad events in their life as well as good ones, for all such happenings have their universal purpose. The Midrash says that after Jacob spoke, Hashem reminded Jacob of the ordeals he survived: “Did I not enable you to survive your brother Esau’s threats, to endure the cunning of Laban, to return your daughter Dinah to you, and to reunite with Joseph?” Jacob’s answer to Pharaoh focused on the travails of life — but failed to sufficiently acknowledge Hashem’s presence throughout.
As we today continue hunkering down in protection against the current pandemic, the Chachamim’s insight remains crucial. We can mire ourselves in the frustration of what we are missing — or we can reframe our experience to discern Hashem’s light. Right now, by adhering to strict protections, Jews and people around the globe are rallying to save one another’s lives. We can choose whether to view this as frustrating, or inspiring. I encourage us all to recognize the remarkable gift we show one another in striving to preserve human life and safety.
Shabbat Shalom!

Dear Members and Friends of Kehilat Shalom Calgary,
This week, I share with you words of wisdom from my own amazing teacher and mentor, Rabbi Ronnie David Zisha Cahana, as imparted by his son Dvir Cahana - an emerging Jewish leader and future rabbi (בע״ה) in his own right.
Shabbat Shalom!
Dvir Cahana writes:
"I had the honour to base this week's Torah off of my father, Rabbi Ronnie David Zishe Cahana's sermon.
"In it, he meditates on the tension between the direct, dutiful, language of the divine tongue and the desire to be guided through fecund poetry. It is accompanied by his poem, which, as you will read, is his response to this departure from the expectation of what is entailed in celestial intimacy:
"It isn't Shalloש, it's Shalom."
BS”D
I wonder why we use such spare words in our entrance to Shabbat? Especially on Shabbat, after we read Shir Hashirim. Shalom Aleichem teaches us very little. We know the Angels enter our domicile, but shouldn’t they be greeted with more flowery words; wouldn't there be a poetic welcome to such lofty guests? In Shalom Aleichem, we only say a one-word verb to G-d’s serving Angels “Boachem”, “Barchuni” and “Tzetchem”. It seems like such a minimized request on the Heilige Shabbos.
Why do we use such sparse language? It’s the same in our Parsha. We hear G-d's commands from the prophet Isaiah in the haftarah. "Be comforted" that’s it, "Nachamu Nachamu Ami”. Wouldn’t more love need to be expressed from the Holy One? The utterance of this staccato expression feels void of compassion. In our low points we beg for G-d’s consoling intimacy, but all we get are two callous “Nachamu”s. Nachamu is a response to the destroyed state of the Beit Hamikdash and Yerushalaim that we mourn on Tisha B’av, but because Nachamu is echoed a second time, we know that it’s about the exiles we have carried all over the world. Don’t read it as a suggestion, G-d speaks it as a commandment. “Be Comforted", even, maybe, do the work to comfort yourselves. It doesn’t say, "I’ll comfort you", nor "I’ll never leave you". It seems that G-d expects us to have a faith beyond ourselves. It is so minimal, so lacking. We have no choice, G-d says, “You must comfort”.
How can we blend? We want poetry and G-d wants action. G-d gives every human being an extraordinary gift: the riches of their imagination. Each experience in our lives approximates a unique answer that informs us of what “Nachamu” might mean -- if we actively hold this question before us and revolve our answer we will intuit what G-d wants. We grow our ideas and ideals of comfort by expressly comforting others. We can embody this commandment, “Nachamu”. Say, “I will give what I need from G-d's comfort to others". The love we crave from G-d will be the love we present to Israel. We realize our mind's imaginings as we receive G-d’s signs of loving embrace. We describe the holiness of G-d Presence within our own parameters of life, and so we live with an idyllic notion actualized.
My mother never really wanted to go back to Auschwitz. There, as a teenager, she met the Malach HaMavet. She was reticent to return to the place in which the memory of cruel destruction ran amuck unimpeded. She didn’t want to look back; she was an artist of the Holocaust, but she always painted the piercing blue light overwhelming the blurred darkness of the past. In fact, she faced forward when she volunteered in the jail system of her adopted hometown to make art with women, who were incarcerated and separated from their children. She showed them, there in jail, to always live for freedom and meaning and expression and not to succumb to the despair of a dying spirit. She embodies: “Nachamu Nachamu Ami”. I see its holy call to life.
Holy language should be succinct and unembellished. In Vaetchanan, we have a six worded essence of our belief starting with the word “Sh’ma”. When we Daven this text, what do we intend? First G-d approaches us with love, “B’Ahava”, and then we sing out “Sh’ma Israel”. Why do we emphasize "Sh’ma" as we call out “listen to me"? What does it mean to hear? Does it mean more than ‘realize’? How can we say Sh’ma and not “Re’eh”? Why don’t we say “Tedah”? Why don’t we say, ”T’daber”? Why don’t we say “T’kabel”? All of those senses are subsumed in “Sh’ma". “Sh’ma" is an inner call from G-d. G-d calls each of us to reach out and hear the Almighty ever-calling us to holiness. (When we read Torah we listen to G-d, when we study, we fill the dialogue with our imaginations. We know affirmation, we live within every answer of G-d’s vocal creation of the world.) G-d calls us into our being and purpose.
Next, we call Our G-d, Hashem Kellokeinu, the G-d of inside and outside -subjectivity and objectivity- and then we come back and say Hashem is whole. Always subjective: "Hashem Echad”. What can we learn by the ideation of Echad? The wholeness of everything? Why is Echad lived out in the flesh? What is the beauty of Oneness?
Oneness is the experience, the holiest experience, cleaving to the G-d form, the experience of completion, of inseparability, oneness is the spirit of being, of belonging. To belong is to be one with the world, and not separate from it. Oneness is also the collection of all of those individuated realities starting with Adam Harishon until us, merging into a larger unity. Oneness is the glimpse of connection back to our Gan Eden. It’s because we ingested for and against Hashem’s Mitzvot there that we have both Gan Eden and exile inside each of us. Once we have re-glimpsed the garden, we can never lose sight of it. Nachamu Nachamu Ami is the promise of its return. Thus, we return our Neshama’s approximation of Gan Eden back, at the end of our lives, to be judged by the Eibishter.
Our judgement is at night. When we say the Sh’ma as the day begins, we just are in G-d’s totality; indistinguishable from everyone else. “Nighttime” represents Kabalat Ohl Malchut Shamayim, and “Daytime” represents Kabalat Ohl Mitzvot. With daytime we change the world but at night we examine it. On Shabbat we infuse our own poetry in our preparation to enter Kabbalat Shabbat, and only from that subjective beginning can we heed G-d’s call to action with Shalom Aleichem.
So now let’s recap. The reason that we say Bo’achem, Barchuni, and Tzetchem, is because we are speaking to the Malachei Hasharet. They are the serving angels only to G-d. They deliver the Kadosh Baruch Hu’s Peace, Shalom, to each household. They are called to do their duty. To bring the Shalom of G-d to us, to bless the Shalom of G-d in us, from G-d to mingle with our Shalom and then to take the Shalom back to G-d. They came from G-d and they Tzeitchem to G-d with our added Shalom. They are not going to the streets, to wander, they are returning us back to our home in G-d. It is on Shabbat that we live in both our days and in G-d’s day in Eternity. For 25 hours we come out of exile as promised in Isiah and with the Angels’ compass we are directed in how to bring G-d’s Nachamu to the world.
שיר לנחם
When i was just a little feller
I was bravado & oh so clever
life was light and brightly stellar
Now I’m ‘neath
Below the cellar
Undetaching
Like Helen Keller
I used to wait for the world uncloudy
Physicality was rooted and bawdy
People lived and landed tawdry
How in the world do we reach the G-dly?
When I shout out, “My people,’Dasein’.”
‘Maginin’that mountain wills the climb
Here is my soul
Sublime and refine In the humanity of angelicalkind
-- Rabbi Ronnie David Zisha Cahana
_____
Rabbi Leonard Cohen
Kehilat Shalom, Calgary
(403) 850-0106
leonardecohen@gmail.com

Dear Members and Friends of Kehilat Shalom Calgary,
B’sha’ah tovah, tomorrow will mark our first time gathering for Shabbat in person since the initial lockdown resulting from the COVID-19 pandemic. (IMPORTANT NOTE: Please RSVP if you wish to attend tomorrow.) As you will note, we are taking strong measures to safeguard our Kehila during this Shabbat. These measures include mandatory use of facemasks – perhaps the most important means, besides physical distancing, through which we can protect one another.
For the past four months, we have steadily been observing the mitzvah of “pikuach nefesh” (saving lives) by not assembling on Shabbat. During this time, I have prepared weekly Divrei Torah, which Kehilat Shalom Board Members Stanley Major and David Craimer have circulated to others via email and our website respectively. This week, I will enjoy the privilege of delivering the Dvar Torah in person instead of by email.
Because we are not yet resuming weekly Shabbat services, in coming weeks where we cannot gather I will continue to send the weekly Rabbi’s message by email.
In the interests of encouraging weekly Torah study, especially by those unable to attend, I would like to share with you several websites which I refer to regularly in order to research learnings about the weekly Parsha:

▪http://torah.saadia.info/ : A gentleman named Saadia Greenberg prepares a weekly compilation of divrei Torah from some of Judaism’s most eminent rabbis today. You can contact him via his site to subscribe to this weekly email compilation.
▪https://rabbisacks.org/covenant-conversation-homepage/ : “Covenant & Conversation” is a weekly d’var torah written by the former chief Rabbi of Great Britain, Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks.
▪https://www.myjewishlearning.com/torah-portions/: MyJewishLearning.com is an informative website about all matters Jewish.
▪https://www.chabad.org/parshah/default_cdo/jewish/Torah-Portion.htm : Chabad.org website provides wonderfully concise summaries of each week’s website (“Parsha in a Nutshell”), breakdowns of the parsha by aliyah, and a variety of divrei Torah by different authors.
▪https://www.aish.com/tp/?s=bc : Divrei Torah divided into Basic & Advanced levels, as well as discussion sheets and activities for families.
▪https://torah.org/parsha/devarim/ : Basic, intermediate and advanced lessons about the weekly Torah portion.May Hashem strengthen you in your continued learning, and may you have a safe and healthy Shabbat.
​
REMINDER – SHABBAT GUIDELINES
Kehilat Shalom is pleased to offer in-person Shabbat services on July 25th, 2020 In the gym of the JCCstarting at 10:00 a.m.
Please come after 9:30 to complete the screening requirements.
We will be following the Alberta Health Services guidelines at the JCC .
▪Please let us know that you are coming as we are setting up individual and family groupings and maintaining physical distancing between groups. Contact us at info@kscalgary.org or phone Sam Fishman at 403 613 1848 ASAP.
▪Everyone needs to wear a mask. If you have one, please wear it. We have masks for the congregation.
▪At check-in at the JCC you will be required to answer some Covid 19 screening questions. Your temperature will be checked. We also will have your name and phone number to check off for contact if needed. No one with Covid symptoms may enter, for the health of all.
▪Please do not attend if you are not well.
▪Welcoming staff at the JCC will be happy to answer any of your questions.
▪Please use hand sanitizer at front entry point and throughout the building.
▪The services will look a bit different in these times. You will be directed to take a prayer book from a designated area and required to return your siddur to another drop area.
▪There will be no kissing of the Torah, the prayer books or each other. Elbow greetings are the new normal.
▪Enhanced cleaning is in place before and after services to add to your comfort and well-being.
▪The washrooms are open.
▪Drinking fountains have been closed. Please bring a water bottle if you need one.
▪We look forward to seeing you on Saturday, July 25. The service will start at 10:00 A.M. and will run for 1 hour and 40 minutes. There will be no Kiddush following._____
Rabbi Leonard Cohen
Kehilat Shalom, Calgary
(403) 850-0106
leonardecohen@gmail.com

Dear Members and Friends of Kehilat Shalom,
A substantial contrast is presented this week between the Torah reading and Haftarah. The Torah reading comprises two parshas together, Matot-Mas’ei, which mark the end of the Torah book of Bemidbar (Numbers). This reading marks the near-conclusion of the Jews’ 40-year journey in the desert, with Israel about to enter into the Holy Land:
אֵלֶּה הַמִּצְוֺת וְהַמִּשְׁפָּטִים אֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה' בְּיַד־מֹשֶׁה אֶל־בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּעַֽרְבֹת מוֹאָב עַל יַרְדֵּן יְרֵחוֹ׃
“These are the commandments and regulations that the LORD enjoined upon the Israelites, through Moses, on the steppes of Moab, at the Jordan near Jericho.” Note that the land of Moab corresponds with territory in the modern-day country of Jordan – to the east of the Jordan river, bordering Israel.
Mas’ei means “journeys (of)”, and the Torah section lists the forty-two stations of the Exodus – the places in the desert in which the Israelites encamped. The verses recount each encampment in sequence, e.g.,
“They journeyed from Rephidim and camped in the Sinai Desert.
“They journeyed from the Sinai Desert and camped in Kivroth Hataavah.
“They journeyed from Kivroth Hataavah and camped in Hazeroth.”
etc.
This detailed travelogue signifies a powerful journey of anticipation. Just as someone concluding a life-changing trip might wish to share every detail of their travels, so too Israel remembers its great voyage of Exodus under G-d’s protection.
The Torah reading outlines in specific detail the geographic boundaries of the land which will be Israel’s. These boundaries have not only historic but halachic impact lasting to this day for the Jewish people. This delineation of sacred territory, planning of borders, and preparation of the Jewish people, all serve to identify the centrality of the land of Israel to the hope and lifeblood of Judaism.
The Haftarah reading, by contrast, takes an ominous tone. It is one of the “tlat depuranuta” – the three Haftarot of Calamity – chastising Israel for their misdeeds, on the brink of the people’s being exiled from the Holy Land.
The prophet Yirmiyahu decries Israel’s betrayal of G-d: “For My people have committed two evils: they have forsaken Me, the spring of living waters – to dig for themselves wells, broken wells that do not hold water." One of Israel’s ‘two evils’ was that they failed to appreciate what they had. Israel had taken Divine benevolence and protection for granted, and no longer sought out Hashem; they had forsaken the good. The other evil was that they pursued false hopes and ideals. Their worship of foreign idols signified not only a faithless betrayal of G-d, but also a futile pursuit to become like other peoples. When Jews fail to appreciate the presence of G-d in their life, and elevate other people’s gods and ideals over our own, we suffer. And indeed Yirmiayahu foresaw, and the people soon experienced, the tragedy of being cast out.
Just as in biblical times, Jews today still face “two evils” that threaten our people:
▪Failure to appreciate: We are challenged to recognize the great privilege of having a thriving Jewish State of Israel. Millions of Jews, direct descendants of people exiled from countries around the world, depend upon a safe, strong Israel for their survival. To neglect our responsibility to them, and to our Jewish peoplehood, is to transgress. To reject the connection between the Jewish people, Hashem, and the land of Israel, is to reject the very Torah that stands at the heart of Jewish meaning and survival.
▪Pursuit of foreign gods and ideals: It is easy to get caught up in the ideals of our surrounding society. We may find ourselves seeking material prosperity over spiritual flourishing. We may identify with political and philosophical ideologies more than Jewish ones. When we elevate the values and pursuits of the secular world so much so that we reject our Jewish ones, we end up deceived and fragmented as a people.The Torah & Haftarah readings of Matot-Mas’ei remind us to prioritize what is important to us as Jews. Our peoplehood rests on the foundations of G-d’s gifts of Torah and Israel.
As we say when we come to end of a book of Torah,
חזק חזק ונתחזק
“Be strong, be strong, and let us strengthen one another.”
Shabbat shalom!
_________________
Rabbi Leonard Cohen
Kehilat Shalom, Calgary
(403) 850-0106
leonardecohen@gmail.com

Dear Members and Friends of Kehilat Shalom Calgary,
This week’s Torah portion, Pinchas, presents two contrasting models of heroism: that of Pinchas, and that of B’not Tzlofchad (daughters of Zelophehad).
In a recent conversation, a Kehilat Shalom member shared with me their belief that there were few Jewish heroes that they could look up to. They pointed to modern Zionist leaders such as Ben-Gurion and Menachem Begin as among the very few who stood up successfully for Jewish strength, nationhood and survival. However, the majority of Jewish leaders throughout Diaspora history, this member suggested, were no heroes, as they accepted and accommodated a political reality in which Jews were repeatedly disempowered, oppressed, expelled, and all too often, massacred.
Proponents of Jewish history will recognize in this argument the familiar tropes of the Socialist and Revisionist branches of the Zionist movement. Revisionist thinkers such as Abba Achimeir, Y. L. Levin, and Vladimir Jabotinsky suggested that there was little for Jews to learn from Diaspora experiences and leaders, as they were all compromised by the absence of Jewish statehood. “The Revisionists contended that beyond the persecutions and the hardships that the Jews had endured over the centuries, the Diaspora had caused a deep psychological schism in the Jewish soul...Only a return to monist [single-minded] nationalism could cure the ruptured Jewish soul.” (1) Writing in 1933, essayist Dov Chomsky claimed in Madrich Beitar, “The term ‘The People of the Book’ is the result of the dangerous and weakening belief that... Jews were scattered all over the world in order to advance humanity and spread the humanistic teachings of the prophets. It is the result of the distortion of nationalism and the nullification of the historical subject, the rights of the nation.”(2)
According to this view, there is little true heroism to be sought among the Talmudic Sages, rabbinic commentators, medieval “olim”, communal leaders such as Ibn Gabriel or other great Diaspora Jews, as they were all compromised by their adherence to religious ideals uncoupled from political or military power. Early socialist Zionist leader Max Nordau explicitly made the link between heroism and Jewish military power, in saying, “For the first time since Bar-Kochba [2nd century CE revolutionary Jewish military leader] does there exist among the Jews an inclination to show themselves, and to show the world how much vitality they still possess.” Heroism, within this construct, depends upon national, political, and military might.
Pinchas, the vigilante
In this week’s Torah reading, Pinchas – the grandson of Aharon the High Priest (and Moses’ brother) – is rewarded by Hashem for his act of vigilante justice. Following the failure of Balaam to curse the Jewish nation successfully, the Israelites were subverted in a different way: through lust. (The Midrash explains that this action had been organized by Balaam as an alternative way to undermine the Jews). Moabite and Midianite women were brought into the Israelite camp as prostitutes, and Jewish men lusted after and slept with them – and followed them into performing rituals and sacrifices to worship the pagan deity Ba’al Pe’or. A Jewish chieftain, Zimri ben Salu, brought Kozbi bat Tzur, the daughter of an enemy Midianite, in front of the Ohel Moed (Tent of Meeting) and flaunted her sexually. In a moment of immediate vengeance, Pinchas grabbed a spear and impaled the couple, killing them instantly.
Hashem not only exonerates Pinchas for the act of killing, but praises him. G-d delivers a message via Moses: “Phinehas, son of Elazar, son of Aaron the Kohen, has turned my wrath away from the people of Israel by avenging vengeance for me…therefore let it be known that I grant him a covenant of peace” (Bamidbar 25:11-12). Pinchas’s decisive action led to the ceasing of a plague that had killed twenty-four thousand Israelites. Given such divine reward, it seems that it must be righteous fo Jews to take fierce, heroic action.
Not so fast. According to the Sages, Pinchas’s actions were considered a dangerous and unacceptable model to follow. According to the Jerusalem Talmud (Sanhedrin 9:7), “Pinchas acted against the will of the wise men. Rabbi Yuda…said: They desired to excommunicate him. If not for the divine spirit that sprung upon him and said: ‘And he shall have it, and his descendants after him, the covenant of priesthood everlasting’…” Pinchas’s act was an extrajudicial killing, i.e., done outside of any justice system. Moses had in fact commanded the Judges of Israel to enact (capital) justice against those who had strayed after the foreign women and foreign god. Pinchas took justice into his own hands. Such revolutionary action, when widespread, threatens stability and social order, with societal justice left up to the arbitrary choices of individuals. It is therefore understood that Pinchas’s act would have merited severe condemnation, even excommunication, had he not exceptionally been granted G-d’s absolution.
The patience of the 5 daughters
Later in the parsha, we view an entirely different type of heroism: that of B’not Tzlofchad. Tzlofchad, a descendant of Menashe, had died, leaving behind his five daughers Machlah, Noah, Khoglah, Milkah and Tirtzah, and no sons. According to Torah law up till that time, when a man died, his inheritance could only be passed on to male heirs. The daughters of Tzlofchad claimed that this law was unfair – as it prevented them from being able to carry on their family name and heritage.
They petitioned their case all the way to Moshe Rabeinu, who in turn presented their case to Hashem. G-d answered the matter plainly: “Ken B’not Tzlofchad dovrot” – the daughters of Tzlofchad are correct. The Halacha was refined so that the estate of a man who died without sons could be inherited by his daughters, as long as they married within their tribe (so that land could remain within their tribal territory). As a result of the five sisters’ action, not only was the law itself improved, but the justice system itself was reinforced: the Israelites saw that they had collective power to bring about a more just society, in an ordered, sacred manner.
The heroism of B’not Tzofchad was characterized by their determination and clarity of purpose. Their courage was similar to that of people involved in landmark court cases in modern society. Such petitioners require persistence to convince others, beyond doubt, that their position is valid, in order to ensure that justice is enacted fairly for them and all others in similar circumstances. This is not the heroism of a momentary act. It requires many years of dedicated action along with concerted efforts by many others.
So which heroes are better?
In Pirkei Avot – the Mishnah tractate of ethical teachings – we learn the maxim from Ben Zoma:איזהו גבור? הכובש את יצרו" “ – “Who is a hero? The one who can subdue their (evil) inclination.” A person’s yetzer (inclination) embodies their animal nature – gratification of one’s needs, and pursuit of power for its own end.
Pinchas’s militant heroism can be appropriate for a time of immediate danger or threat. Powerful action, when harnessed for good, can bring about rapid change – in Pinchas’s case, it subdued destructive chaos among the Jewish people. Decisive action is warranted in other instances as well: countries that enacted rapid protective measures against COVID-19 have fared far better in this pandemic than others which have proceeded less assertively.
Yet impulsive, violent, dramatic action cannot serve as a general example for societal behaviour: such is the stuff of the yetzer. Chaotically implemented justice leads to a world where "might is right". It does not form the basis for an enduring civil society.
The heroism of B’not Tzlofchad, by contrast, is less dramatic but more enduring. Rather than military might, they employed the forcefulness of their convictions. Their heroism was a longer, more gradual one with a lasting impact: centuries later, the territory in Israel where their descendants lived continued to be named for these very women.
Jewish history demonstrates that forceful political and military power, in and of itself, is no assurance of Jewish strength. The same Bar Kochba cited as a hero by Max Nordau brought about tremendous suffering for the Jewish people. The revolution which Bar Kochba led against the Romans (and supported by leaders such as Rabbi Akiva) was soundly defeated, no less than were the Jewish zealots of Masada in the previous century. In the wake of Bar-Kochba’s rebellion, half a million Jews were slain, hundreds of cities and villages were razed to the ground, and Romans imposed oppressive rule thereafter upon the survivors. The heroism of Judah Maccabee eventually led to rulership by a tyrannical, amoral kingdom by his descendants; this is why Hanukkah celebrates the miracle of Lights ratherr than that of military victory. It is no wonder that Judaism traditionally regards military and political power with suspicion.
To be sure, the Zionist cause did exemplify extraordinary leadership and heroism. Such heroism was not due to exceptional heroism unseen in any time in the Diaspora. In fact, the Zionist cause itself was fuelled by the incredible success Jewish leaders sustained in cultivating a meaningful existence for Jews throughout the centuries. Had we not had leaders who inculcated not only the history of a homeland, but also the purpose of Jewish peoplehood (inspired by Torah and Hashem), there would have been no meaningful survival of the Jewish nation, let alone unity behind a shared vision of statehood.
May we seek out heroes in our lives who inspire us not only with their power and determination, but also with the goodness of their hearts.
Shabbat shalom!
(1) Kaplan, Eran. (2005). The Jewish Radical Right : Revisionist Zionism and Its Ideological Legacy. University of Wisconsin Press, 2005, p. 35.
(2) Ibid., p. 34.
_________________
Rabbi Leonard Cohen
Kehilat Shalom, Calgary
(403) 850-0106
leonardecohen@gmail.com

Dear Members and Friends of Kehilat Shalom Calgary,
This is indeed a very, very, VERY special Shabbat - so much so that we have a double Torah portion this week, Chukat & Balak. Our fireworks for this 4th of July Shabbat may not be literal ones (at least not till nightfall) but intellectual and heartfelt fireworks sparked by love of Torah.
The parsha of Chukat contains laws concerning פרה אדומה (parah adumah – the red heifer), one of the most enigmatic of Jewish commandments. In this mitzvah, an entirely red cow without blemish is sacrificed and its ashes preserved. These ashes were sprinkled upon those who had been rendered Tameh (impure) by coming in contact with a dead human body, and made them Tahor (pure) once again. Oddly, the person who sacrificed the parah adumah, as well as the one who gathered its ashes, were themselves rendered temporarily impure/Tameh by their acts.
The mitzvah involves the sacrifice of Parah adumah falls in the category of mitzvot known asחוק (chok) - Torah laws for which we cannot discern a logical reason. Other חוקיםinclude the prohibition against wearing mixed linen and wool garments, and the precise characteristics which make one species kosher and another not. While some scholars have proposed a rationality for these particular laws, the Sages traditionally, by consensus, agreed that these laws lacked a clear rational basis, and were therefore adhered to out of sheer faith in Hashem.
Three years ago, my child Lilah became of age as they read from the Torah on the Shabbat of Chukat. That event was one of the most recent times my wife’s whole family gathered from across North America for a simcha, a joyful celebration of our lifecycle events. In January 2019, we had another blessed event, my mother-in-law Blanche’s 90th birthday party, at which time she regaled us with stories of her lifetime.
Several months later, almost exactly one year ago from today, Sharon’s sisters traveled to Calgary for a much harder purpose: to be with their mother Blanche z”l during her final days, her passing and funeral.
This week, we held a private family unveiling for Blanche’s matzevah on the date of her Yahrzeit (10 Tammuz, this year falling on July 2). Under ordinary circumstances, a limited number of family members would have travelled to join for this occasion. As it turned out, there were just four of us (Sharon, myself and our two kids Hannah & Lilah) at the cemetery - a deliberate choice to restrict it to our family. Yet the practices we have adapted during this time of pandemic made it possible for us to engage the whole Gulko extended family via teleconference. All of Sharon’s sisters were there, Blanche’s grandchildren attended, and we saw cousins we haven’t seen in years. This would not have been the case in ordinary times.
All of this made me reconsider this week’s Torah reading, and the laws of the parah adumah. Perhaps this mitzvah and others like it weren’t meant to “make sense”, in order to help us withstand other things that don’t “make sense”. Deaths of loved ones, societal upheaval, suffering and injury, all may happen without notice, without rhyme or reason.
When Jews perform such mitzvot as the חוקים, we enact our acceptance of matters beyond rationality. We put our trust in Hashem that there is a purpose greater than one we can logically discern. And when hard times arrive, and our world is turned upside down, we can hold fast to a faith and hope which may transcend mere logic.
The joint Torah portion this week, Balak, contains the story of Balaam – the prophet who was sent to curse Israel. Logically, we might question whether any such curse could have power to cause harm. Yet in the end, Balaam ended up blessing the people of Israel instead – and against all likelihood his very words, the verses of “Mah tovu” (How goodly are your tents, O Jacob!), have become words of inspiring prayer for the Jewish people.
This Shabbat, and in the time ahead, may we see all our curses turned to blessings. Shabbat Shalom!
_________________
Rabbi Leonard Cohen
Kehilat Shalom, Calgary
(403) 850-0106
leonardecohen@gmail.com