This Shabbat is known as Shabbat Parah, or the Sabbath of
the Heifer. The reference is to the traditional
Maftir reading for tomorrow which is from Numbers chapter 10 – quite some
distance from the regular cyclical Torah reading which is from the Book of
Leviticus. The Maftir reading is the commandment
of the Red Heifer.
In brief, the
passage instructs that the Israelites are to take a Red Heifer without blemish,
upon whom a yoke has never been laid, and burn it as a burnt offering. And the Priest, Eleazer the son of Aaron is
to take the ashes, mix them with water, and sprinkle them on those who are
impure for whatever reason, and it shall purify them.
The reading
begins: Zot hukkat Hatorah asher
tziva Adonai. This is the statute of the
Torah which Adonai commanded. The Hebrew
word hukkat, translated as ‘statute,’ means a law for which no rationale
is given or implied. So if we read this
passage and are completely mystified, it seems that we’re supposed to be so.
Of course, this
very idea will repel some hearing, or reading this. They fancy themselves as rationalists. They rebel against the idea that anything
cannot be apprehended, and understood, in whole by scientific enquiry. And if it cannot, then they place it in the
category of ‘fairy tale.’ So to some,
the very notion that religion sometimes requires that we suspend rationality
even for a time, makes them see it as something not worthy of our serious
consideration. They may find it interesting
on some level, in the same way that we find mythology or a well-crafted novel
interesting. But it certainly does not
qualify as a source, from which to derive one’s worldview.
The above would
have well described me some years back.
But different experiences informed me that not everything in life is
rationally apprehendable. And that we
should not fear that, which is not. We can,
instead, enjoy the mysteries of life.
And yes, that includes the mystery of religious faith. If I’m thus freed from worrying about whether
I understand everything, then I have far more emotional energy to invest in enjoying
life. I’ll give you an example.
One time many
years ago I was complaining to a friend – it happened that he was a rabbi –
about the incomprehensibility of women.
I was thinking about a particular woman at that moment, but I realised
that the mystery of women is not unique to any one woman, but to women as a
species. That is, if you happen to be of
the male persuasion…
“Women are not
to understand, Don,” my friend told me. “They’re to accept…and to enjoy!”
I can’t tell
you how liberating my friend’s words were! How many people struggle all of their lives to
understand the opposite sex and never succeed! The point is:
you’re not supposed to succeed!
You’re supposed to accept that she or he is beyond your comprehension,
and accept…and enjoy! Vive le
difference!
Religious faith
is another one of those things in life where an acceptance of some degree of incomprehensibility
is necessary. If there are lessons to be
had in Torah that elude me, perhaps they will become clear as I grow and wizen. Perhaps Torah is an unfolding banquet, where instead
of being given everything from the get-go, you’re given things along the way to
savour and make the way sweet.
But the truth
is that this goes so much against the grain!
Did you ever start a new venture – a job or profession, a course of
learning or a new sport – and purchase, or receive a huge kit of the stuff you
would need for it? I did. When I received my first orders to the war
zone of Iraq and the Persian Gulf, I had to go down to supply and pick of an
incredible kit. Coming back home, I
spread out all the gear and clothing I’d been issued. Look, it was just military gear…but it felt
like Chanukah! We love it when we’re
given all the tools we’re going to need, even if we can’t see at that moment how
we’ll use one or another of the tools in the bag.
Imagine how I
would have felt if I hadn’t been given everything I would need in
advance of my trip to Iraq. I’m sure I
would have felt some unease. If, for
example, I would not have been given my gas mask and chemical warfare suit. What if the Supply Sergeant had told me: Oh, that’s okay, Chaplain; there are
plenty of masks and suits downrange; they’ll fit you when you arrive. I can tell you how I would have
felt. Not good. It was much more comforting to me having the
mask and suit in my possession, being able to touch them and practice putting them
on.
So that’s the apparent paradox. Not knowing everything from the start, and
accepting that that’s okay, can be liberating. But there is a certain comfort in being able
to figure things out.
If you try to really
use logic, then you’ll realise that it’s really not a paradox at all. It’s simply normal. I mean, Torah is anything but ‘normal’;
it is unique! But the way we encounter
and appreciate Torah, is in reality like just about everything else in life. We try to gather up as complete a ‘kit’ of
knowledge and understanding as possible from the start. But at the same time we understand – and accept
– that there will be things beyond our comprehension that will get filled in
along the way…if they get filled in. Some things, like the mystery of the opposite
sex, may never get filled in. Perhaps, as
my rabbi friend told me, we’re not supposed to understand the opposite sex at
all. If so, then our ultimate happiness
depends on our accepting the wonder of something beyond our comprehension. If so, then how much more so can we enjoy our
Jewish journeys without comprehending the mystery of the Red Heifer? We can.
Shabbat shalom.
No comments:
Post a Comment