blogs/rabbi-huberman

The Torah of Disobedience #452

Jews with Disabilities: Reassessing the Torah
 
Are there times when it makes sense for Jews to disobey the Torah? Many scholars throughout our tradition have concluded that there are.
 
Jews are often referred to as the People of the Book, but really, that label is incorrect. More accurately, we're the People of Interpretation and Change.
 
Unlike many of our Christian counterparts, many Jews have trouble citing specific Torah passages based on chapter and verse. We are instead a religion of debate and dialogue, using the Torah as a springboard for discussion. 

Where other traditions use passages in holy texts to clinch arguments, we use passages in ours to initiate moral conversations.  
We are, in fact, encouraged to review, question, and, yes, in some cases contravene the Torah.
 
In his landmark book Conscience: The Duty to Obey and the Duty to Disobey, Rabbi Harold Shulweis advances the idea that, in certain cases, a Jew is actually obliged to disobey the Torah - or, at least, assess if certain words and commandments may do more harm than good.
As an example, the Torah tells us that if your son misbehaves, you have the right to take him to the gates of the city, and instruct the elders to stone him to death. 

Nevertheless our historical and rabbinical texts fail to record a single example of parents condemning their rowdy, drunk or gluttonous son to this fate. 

Parents' frustrations with their children has been a constant for thousands of years: regardless, by artfully throwing up restrictions and roadblocks, the ancient rabbis made it virtually impossible to follow the Torah.

In essence, they teach us to disobey. 

Under certain conditions, the Torah also decrees that a brother, even if he is already married, should marry and provide for the wife of his deceased brother. 

But roughly a thousand years ago, German scholar Rabbi Gershom, "the Light of the Diaspora," banned polygamy.   While the idea of protecting a widow, or keeping the brother's land in the family may have made sense during Biblical times, it was not right for the Diaspora.

Rabbi Gershom said, "Disobey." 

This is the time of the year when we read in services various sections of the Torah dealing with sacrifices: identifying who is holy and who is not. 

Modern rabbis, reading these pages, often find themselves falling into the role of apologist. 

In recent weeks, we have been reviewing various ancient laws governing women, restrictions relating to priests, and rules overseeing who may participate in rituals and who may not. Many of these commandments are counter-intuitive to how society functions today.
In this week's portion, Emor ("The Lord Said to Moses"), there is one series of laws which is particularly problematic.
 
The Torah tells us that a member of the priestly tribe who has a "defect" may not offer a public sacrifice (Leviticus 16:16-23). This includes a person who is blind, who has a limb too short or too long, someone who has a broken leg or a broken arm, or who is a hunchback, or a dwarf, or who has a growth in his eye.
 
But, in many ways, the Torah contradicts itself.
 
In last week's reading, we are told to never place a stumbling block in front of the blind, and not to insult the deaf. On one hand we are told not to humiliate the physically and mentally challenged, but it appears the Torah draws the line at true equality. 
 
This is not how we do things today. Virtually all Jewish movements have chosen to disregard any instructions for the segregation of the mentally and physically challenged. 

Through ceremonies such as the bar or bat mitzvah, those with mild to severe disabilities can publicly embrace Judaism, based on the love in their hearts, and their attachment to being Jewish. 
 
Some years ago, the daughter of a childhood friend, confined to a wheelchair, unable to speak, celebrated her bat mitzvah by reciting and reacting to the Torah reading through a series of winks. 

As congregants and family showered her with candies, her radiant smile reached God's heart within the highest chambers of heaven. 
 
Six years ago, our son John, who is autistic, celebrated his bar mitzvah. John tied the knots on his tallit himself, recited the Shemaprayer, proudly carried the Torah from the ark throughout the sanctuary - and, during my sermon, let out a long and loud celebratory yell.
 
From the depths of his Jewish soul, he was declaring Hineni: "Here I am."
 
In our congregation, when an elderly or disabled person is not able to step up to the Bimah, we bring the Torah into the pews so that they can recite prayers over the Torah, as they commemorate the passing of a loved one.
 
I believe this is pleasing to God.
 
Two weeks ago, during a lecture on Kabbalah, Jewish mysticist Dr Arthur Kurzweil stated that it is easy to follow rules, or, as he put it, "to be appropriate."
 
"It is a lot harder," he asserted, "to know when we should not be appropriate."
 
Whether it's reprimanding a son, caring for a widow, or bringing the Torah to those who cannot reach the Bimah, we are realizing more and more that Judaism is less about words on a page and more about the values and compassion which form the foundation of Jewish tradition.
 
In 2016, we understand that every Jew -- every human being -- has the right to meet their full potential. One soul, one life, one destiny per person.
 
We should also consider that any law, governmental, communal or religious, which publicly embarrasses, humiliates, segregates, or otherwise hurts another human being is a law for us to disobey.
 
Three thousand years ago, Kohanim (priests) with disabilities were restricted within an environment of pity, shame, and segregation -- at best. That was then. 

As God's creative partners, we need to act as Jews through the words of an evolving Torah, one which respects all human beings.
 
Each of us struggles in our own way, yet each journey is unique and holy.  Our places of worship and religious expression must reflect that.

For each of us is a blessing in God's sight.
 
Shabbat Shalom, v'kol tuv (with all goodness)
 
Rabbi Irwin Huberman