Shabbat Shalom! – Emor

Image: Rahav Concealing the Spies (Joshua 2). Photo by Patrick Grey, some rights reserved.

I have to confess that Parashat Emor is one that I find personally troubling. Among other things, it describes the strictures put on the kohanim, the priestly class, in order to maintain their ritual purity for the sacrificial cult. Those strictures include some mysterious and troubling words about women.

The Torah is remarkably concerned with the status of women associated with the wives and daughters of the kohanim. Those rules are described in detail in Rabbi Sylvia Rothschild’s d’var Torah this week, Parashat Emor: the priest and the prostitute or how a women’s sexual history is mysteriously powerful in the ritual system. Her examination of this portion of the parashah is both scholarly and accessible, and I recommend it.

I am troubled by the same things that bother Rabbi Rothschild, with an addition. Later in the development of the halakhah (commonly translated “Jewish Law”) another stricture was added, that a female convert may not marry a kohen. This is the case in Orthodox and Conservative Judaism, despite the words of Maimonides:

There is no difference whatever between you and us. (Responsum to Ovadiah the Proselyte)

Reform Judaism does not concern itself with boundaries around the kohanim, as Rabbi Rothschild teaches in a different d’var Torah:

…the Reform response takes into account both the reality that whatever you may believe about your family the hereditary priesthood cannot be a status you can be certain about; and also has moved away from laws specifically to enable Temple ritual, so given that there are substantial disabilities in Jewish law for people identified as Cohanim, we have decided that this category is no longer of importance to us and have effectively removed this particular boundary… – Parashat Emor: the importance of knowing our boundaries

Where do we get this rule about converts and the kohanim? There are two schools of thought. The first was expressed by Rabbi Abraham ben David, known as the Ra’avad in the 12th century, citing a verse from the prophet Ezekiel:

Neither shall they [the priests] take for their wives a widow, nor her that is divorced; but they shall take virgins of the seed of the house of Israel, or a widow that is the widow of a priest. – Ezekiel 44:22

The second school of thought, which is dominant, actually comes from Maimonides, the same teacher who made the extraordinarily generous statement I cited above. He cites Tractate Yevamot of the Talmud as an elucidation of Leviticus 21:7, a verse from our Torah portion:

They shall not take a woman that is a zonah, or profaned; neither shall they take a woman put away from her husband; for he is holy unto his God. – Leviticus 21:7

And the Rabbis say: The term zonah applies only to a female convert, a freed maidservant, and one who engaged in licentious sexual intercourse. – Yevamot 61b

Imagine how annoyed a female convert might be to find out that halachically she is designated zonah, a word that is more commonly translated “prostitute!” My codes professor in rabbinical school told me to “get over it” but I remain stubbornly annoyed.

I take some comfort in the fact that there are honored women in our tradition with the zonah designation, including Tamar (Genesis 38) and Rahav of Jericho (Joshua 2.)

For more scholarly (and less annoyed) examinations of this week’s Torah portion, I recommend:

Tearing A Hole in Being by Rabbi Dr. Rachel Adler

Parashat Emor: the priest and the prostitute or how a women’s sexual history is mysteriously powerful in the ritual system by Rabbi Sylvia Rothschild

The Imperfection of Perfection by Rabbi Amy Schienerman

A Crack in Everything by Rabbi Rachel Barenblat

Is Time Ours or Is It God’s? Rabbi Elyse Goldstein

 

 

 

 

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Shabbat Shalom! – Emor

Like most of the Torah portions in Leviticus Parashat Emor (Leviticus 21:1 – 24:3) is packed with information and mitzvot.

The first aliyah has to do with laws for the priests, and commandments that would come to shape Jewish tradition about the care for the dead.

The second aliyah includes a passage forbidding priests with deformities to serve in the Temple sacrifices. That passage has caused a lot of trouble for people with disabilities. I address that trouble – and a more accurate reading of the passage – in my d’var Torah below.

Most of the rest of the Torah portion teaches us about the yearly cycle of holidays, when and how to celebrate them. Then the maftir – the final section – reminds us that there is one law for all – Jew and visitor alike. Finally a man who had cursed the camp was stoned to death. It’s an unusually grim end to a Torah portion.

There is much to ponder in Parashat Emor. Thank goodness many darshanim post divrei Torah online to help us understand it!

Is Time Ours or is it God’s? by Rabbi Elyse Goldstein

The Imperfection of Perfection by Rabbi Amy Scheinerman

The Virtue of Worry by Rabbi David Kasher (ParshaNut)

Lighten Up! by Hannah Perlberger (Positive Parshah)

Leading Off! by Rabbi Harry Rothenburg (VIDEO) A baseball d’var Torah!

An Eye for an Eye by Rabbi Jeremy Simons

Ableism in the Torah? Say It Ain’t So! by Rabbi Ruth Adar

 

 

The Corners of My Field

When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not completely reap the corners of your field, or gather the gleanings of your harvest; you shall leave them for the poor and the stranger: I the Eternal am your God. – Leviticus 23:22 (Parashat Emor)

It looks so simple, on the surface: when you gather the harvest, leave some for the poor. Why, then, do we need an entire tractate of the Talmud to talk about it, and why does Maimonides devote an entire volume of the Mishneh Torah to it?

The commandment may be simple, but human nature is not. The minute people heard “leave the corners, leave the gleanings” the questions began: how much of the corners? On every field of any size? And what exactly are gleanings? What if a worker drops an entire basket of produce? What if you don’t have a field, but a silver smithy? What if the harvest is really bad that year? What about… on and on.

There are also questions about the recipients: who gets the gleanings? Who are the poor? Who is the stranger? Why do they deserve free stuff?

Actually, that last question is a ringer. The rabbis addressed the question of fraud but they don’t question that a poor person deserves food to eat. Indeed, Maimonides says that while we can question a beggar’s request for money, if a person asks for food, if they say they are hungry, the observant Jew has to give, or at the very least, speak kindly when they say a regretful “no.”

I live in a part of the country where I am asked for money on the street on a regular basis. I have a son who trained as a social worker who feels very strongly that one should not give street people money. I have a colleague who has made a very cogent argument for giving money to people who ask for it on the street. And I hear Maimonides’ words scolding me when I pass someone and say, “No, I’m sorry, not today.”

I resolve my dilemma by giving as much cash as I can to my local food bank. Canned goods are nice, but the truth is they can do a lot more with cash. They can buy what people actually need as opposed to our fantasies of what they need. They can buy at steep discounts, too. My “harvest” doesn’t involve corners of fields or gleanings, it is in my checkbook, and so I give what I can.

There are a growing number of poor families and individuals in the United States. The recovery from the Great Recession has left many behind.  We live in a cruel economy at the moment, and funds for food stamps have been cut again and again. It is up to us to dig deep and give to organizations that feed hungry people. Our tradition demands no less.

Ableism in the Torah? Say it ain’t so!

Leadership and Disability: totally compatible!
Leadership and Disability: totally compatible!

 

The Lord said to Moses, “Say to Aaron: ‘For the generations to come none of your descendants who has a defect may come near to offer the food of his God. No man who has any defect may come near: no man who is blind or lame, disfigured or deformed; 1no man with a crippled foot or hand, or who is a hunchback or a dwarf, or who has any eye defect, or who has festering or running sores or damaged testicles. No descendant of Aaron the priest who has any defect is to come near to present the food offerings to the Lord. He has a defect; he must not come near to offer the food of his God. He may eat the most holy food of his God, as well as the holy food; yet because of his defect, he must not go near the curtain or approach the altar, and so desecrate my sanctuary. I am the Lord, who makes them holy.’” – Leviticus 21: 16-23

These words from parashat Emor are troubling. This is a commandment given concerning the kohanim, the priests of the Temple. It seems to say that anyone blind, lame, disfigured, or deformed is not as good as a “whole” person. It seems to say, “We won’t starve you – you have a right to live! – but we ask that you keep out of sight. You are not good enough to serve in the Temple.”

And indeed, there is a long sad history of human beings saying exactly that to family and community members who were physically or mentally different. Stay out of sight – or at least keep your disability out of sight. This attitude has also taken the form of pretending that disabled people are invisible. And sadly, these verses from the Torah seem to support the notion that the best thing we disabled folk can do is to stay out of sight.

For years, I hid my own disability when it came time to lead services, despite the fact that standing for any length of time gave me excruciating pain. I got the idea from this Torah portion that a person who was leading services should be physically perfect, and that if I needed a cane or a wheelchair to function, then I was not fit to lead a service. As a result, I was not at my best on the bimah (the raised area from which services are led.) I was fuzzy minded, clouded with pain. I mispronounced words. I forgot things. I did not give the congregation the leadership it deserved. Eventually, I decided that I should not be a congregational rabbi, because of the disability I struggled to hide.

I have changed my mind about all of it. First of all, there can be strength and beauty in the prayers of a person who sits in a chair or holds a cane. I know, because I have seen it.

Secondly, I look at the historical context of this commandment. Other ancient cultures exposed (killed) infants who were deemed defective. Even Plato says that in an ideal community, infants with defects would not be allowed to live. So anyone with a congenital disability was deemed unworthy to live: compared to that attitude, saying, “You can eat the holy food, but don’t serve at the altar” seems like a big step forward.

Third, we can look at the interpretation of the tannaim, the earliest rabbis who actually recalled a time when the Temple was standing. In Mishnah Megillah 4.7, Rav Yehudah says that a kohen with stains on his hands also may not give the priestly blessing, “because people would be inclined to stare.” If in fact the reason for keeping the kohanim with visible “defects” from the Temple service was that “people will stare” then it suggests that the problem is not in the disability, but in the reactions of the public to disabilities. Later rabbis went even further: in the Gemara, Megillah 24b, they say that if the kohen is known locally, and “people are used to him,” then there is no impediment to his participating in the service.

This clearly locates the problem with the distraction of the congregation. The kohen may not serve publicly if his disability makes it impossible for the congregation to concentrate.

In this day and time, since we know that it is wrong to discriminate against those with disabilities, this is a red herring. If I am “distracted” by someone’s race, or accent, or the wheelchair they use, it is my task to “get over it” – or more accurately, to get over myself. It is not fair, it is downright wrong, for me to say to anyone, “Don’t lead services, your disability is distracting.”

So if the literal understanding of this verse does not hold up to scrutiny, if a physical disability should no longer prevent someone from serving, what “defects” should keep one from publicly leading a service? Further on in tractate Megillah 29a:

Bar Kappara gave the following exposition: What is the meaning of the verse, “Why look ye askance, ye mountains of peaks, at the mountain which God has desired for His abode?” (Psalm 68:17)  A heavenly voice went forth and said to them: “Why do you look askance at Sinai? Ye are all full of blemishes as compared with Sinai. It is written here “with peaks” and it is written elsewhere “hunchbacked or a dwarf.” (Leviticus 21:20) R. Ashi observed: You can learn from this that if a man is arrogant, this is a blemish in him.

The Psalmist asks why the greatest mountains, with beautiful peaks, look disapprovingly at little Mt. Sinai. The heavenly voice retorts, “Why are you criticizing Sinai? You are all full of blemishes!” Bar Kappara is drawing a parallel between the beautiful tall mountains looking down at Sinai, and the beautiful human beings looking down at a hunchback or a dwarf. Indeed, says Rav Ashi, the real blemish is arrogance.

Thus while this passage appears to reek of old prejudices – and in fact it may represent an old, bad solution to the problem of ableism – further study in the Oral Torah reveals it to be something quite different. If the real blemish is arrogance, then the arrogant may not lead services – but we’ll still feed them.

I can live with that.

Image: FDR in Wheelchair, public domain