blogs/rabbi-huberman

Parashat: Emor

Can We Disobey the Torah?

One of my favorite Talmud stories describes a debate among our ancient Sages regarding whether a newly invented oven is permissible for public use.

Can you imagine Samsung Israel developing a new appliance that would permit someone to cook a hamburger and a cheesecake at the same time?

In a religion that demands the separation of meat, something humanity takes by force, and milk, which a mother provides to nurture, what did the rabbis think of an appliance invented 2,000 years ago called Akhnai’s Oven?

True to the spirit of Israeli innovation, the ancient Mr. Akhnai presents his invention, featuring a series of tiles divided into compartments separated by sand and cement.

It is kosher or not? Rabbi Eliezer, the most respected Sage of his day, declares the multi-purpose oven “ritually pure,” while the other 70 rabbis on the Sanhedrin declare it impure.

A heated argument ensues, during which Rabbi Eliezer, supposedly with God’s help, performs several miracles. A carob tree uproots and replants itself 500 feet away. A nearby stream changes direction. And finally, the walls of the seminary begin to collapse.

And that’s not all: A “divine voice” from heaven, reminds the sages that Rabbi Eliezer’s opinion is usually the correct one. The remaining rabbis -- seemingly irritated by both Rabbi Eliezer and God’s special effects -- turn their attention to the heavens, and respectfully say to God, “Please mind your own business.”

Says Rabbi Joshua, “If Torah scholars are contending with each other in matters of human law (halakha,) what is the nature of your involvement in this dispute?” (Baba Metzia 59b).

They remind God of a quote from the Torah that reads, “The Torah is not found in heaven” (Deuteronomy 30:12) -- rather it is turned into action by those who practice it.

According to Elijah the Prophet, God’s “executive assistant, God retreats and later laughs at being reminded that like any good parent, God sometimes must let their children work out their disagreements without interference.

This Talmudic story of “divine non-intervention” is one of many cases where Jewish tradition favors minhag hamakom (local custom) over the Torah, and sometimes even God.

Tradition tells us that if someone threatens you with a weapon, forcing you to eat pork, you should reluctantly consume it, if it means saving your life.

The Torah says if your brother passes away, God forbid, his wife can become part of your home to assure her wellbeing. The Torah permits multiple wives under these circumstances.

However, about 1,000 years ago, Rabbi Gershom ben Judah (960–1040), banned polygamy within Judaism. The Torah also commands that a disrespectful young teenager, who is a glutton and a drunk, be taken to the edge of the community and stoned to death by the elders.

Yet, there has never been a recorded case of a child being stoned for disobedience. By inaction, Judaism has, for thousands of years, disobeyed this commandment.

This leads us to another commandment in this week’s parashah: Emor, which many rabbis choose to ignore these days. The Torah forbids disabled members of the Kohanim -- the highest Jewish class -- from offering a sacrifice at the Jerusalem Temple.

That includes anyone with a physical defect—“someone who is blind, or lame, a hunchback, or someone who is “height challenged,” the person who has a growth on his eye, a boil, or suffers from scurvy." (Leviticus 21:18)

Perhaps the passage reflects the bias and prejudices of those times. But not today’s. I remember speaking with one of my most beloved teachers, Rabbi Alan Kay—of blessed memory—a few months before his passing.

It was a few days before Rosh Hashanah, and I asked, “Rabbi, is there a message I can share with our congregation, as you consider the fragility of your life?”

He replied, “I have no right. For while my illness is apparent every time I cough, every person in your congregation has some illness—internal or external We are all struggling with something.”

I thought about Rabbi Kay and his words as I reviewed this week’s parashah. Indeed, is any of us without defect?

There are those with visible physical challenges, and there are many living with a variety of disorders, addictions or illnesses not apparent to the naked eye.

Where do we draw the line? And does that limit the right of anyone to pour their heart out to God? For each time we weather a physical or spiritual challenge, we edge closer to God.

The Psalms state, “True sacrifice to God is a contrite spirit; God, You will not despise a contrite and crushed heart.” (Psalm 51:19).

Personally, I prefer leaders who have truly lived—those who have developed spiritual antibodies by weathering life’s storms.

Notes the Etz Chaim Biblical Commentary: “Today we may consider the religious institution that…is willing to engage physically handicapped spiritual leaders as being better able to welcome worshippers who are painfully aware of their own physical or emotional imperfections.”

Moreover, like the debate over Akhnai’s Oven, sometimes we need to bypass heaven, and consider the circumstances to which we apply the Torah.

Contrary to the Torah itself, Judaism today does not endorse polygamy nor the stoning of children. We are even permitted to break some laws in order to preserve life—provided we do not injure others.

This week’s parashah reminds us that laws, rules and religion evolve over time. No one is perfect. And that is one of life’s great equalizers. Therefore, rather than limit religion, we need to embrace and expand it. For we are all beautiful and flawed in some way.

Despite the physical and spiritual defects, which can affect us, each one of us is equally entitled to worship, sacrifice and interact with God in our unique way.

For we are all precious in God’s sight.

Shabbat Shalom, v’kol tuv

Rabbi Irwin Huberman