Rabbis' Blog

Have you ever followed a discussion between two antisemites? Or a Twitter thread filled with Jew hating dribble? If it weren't so dangerous it would be funny.

Those clowns engage in foolish banter, entertain ridiculous conspiracy theories and drone on and on about sheer lunacy.

But this phenomenon isn’t new. This week's parsha is dedicated to the adventures of two paranoid anti semites who tried to wipe out the entire Jewish nation three thousand years ago.

Here are their profiles.

Balak, the cowardly king of Moav hated the Jews with a blind passion. Even though the Israelites were expressly forbidden from occupying his land, their mere presence in the region drove him crazy.

Bilaam, the gentile prophet was a money hungry, egotistical hedonist. Notwithstanding his divine powers, he was unable to make the case for morality and justice within his circle of influence and resorted to being a divine mercenary for kings and warriors. For the right price he would curse your enemies - and his results were impressive every time. His antisemitism suited him quite well.

Balak knew that facing the Jews in battle was suicidal so he hired Bilaam to do the dirty work. He was delighted with the offer, but was keenly aware that cursing the Chosen Nation was futile. But he tried anyway - because he was an antisemite.

If Bilaam's power of the word were not so potent, the story would read like a comedy. Bilaam gets owned by his donkey, and the pair try the same stupidity thrice. But Bilaam was really dangerous and only G-d's specific intervention averted the worst.

Not only did Bilaam end up blessing the Jewish nation, he became the first to clearly articulate the coming of Moshiach in the future. The advent of an era when no nation will lift a sword against another nation, peace and tranquility will reign for all and G-dliness will be revealed throughout the world.

There is an important lesson here about the craziness we encounter ever increasingly in the world today. People are engaging in the most vile and illogical ideas, sometimes with tragic results. It makes you wonder where our world is headed.

But specifically from the most unbelievable darkness springs forth the greatest light. By responding to illogical hatred with illogical love, we access unlimited wellsprings of goodness.

I am not suggesting we ignore the hatred around us, but we must not let it drag us down. It is a sign of great goodness to come and we can prepare for it by doing more mitzvot and creating more goodness and kindness around us.

It was during the High Holiday season of 2005 when I had a lengthy conversation with my grandfather, Rabbi Moshe Greenberg, of blessed memory.

Since we lived thousands of miles apart and as a youngster I was not proficient in neither Hebrew or Yiddish, there was a significant communication barrier between us. But that afternoon in Brooklyn, when I was nineteen years old I asked him questions about the past. 

At age nineteen, orphaned from both parents, he was sentenced to twenty five years of harsh labor in Siberia for the treasonous crime of escaping the Soviet Union to live the openly Jewish lifestyle he craved.

“Witnesses can attest to the fact  that I never violated Shabbat, ate non-kosher meat or ate chametz (leaven) on Pesach,” he said.

This was not the norm. Jewish law stipulates that one must do anything to survive, aside for idolatry, murder or adultery, and every competent Rabbi would rule that my grandfather was obligated to eat whatever he had access to and to work on Shabbat rather than be in solitary confinement for five days each week. (This happened for two years straight!)

“Why did you risk your life to keep Shabbat and Kashrut under such impossible circumstances?” I asked him. “You weren’t obligated to do so.”

He smiled and after several minutes he shared with me a thought I am still trying to digest fourteen years later.

Twenty five years in Siberia was a veritable death sentence. He knew that he would never make it out alive. “Why should I violate Shabbat? Why should I eat non-kosher meat?”

Think about that. An orphaned teenager, condemned to a slow and painful death by a tyrannical government did not forget for a moment that G-d was with him even in the gulags and risked everything in order to connect with G-d through Shabbat and Kashrut.

The opening statement of this week’s parsha Chukat reads “This is the Chukah (statute) of the Torah.” Referring to the laws of ritual purity and impurity, the Torah clarifies that they transcend logic and must be accepted unquestioningly. That’s the way it is.

In a broader sense, this attitude of unquestioning acceptance is relevant in all areas of Jewish life, since the foundation of healthy Jewish living is unwavering loyalty to G-d and His commandments, because that’s the way it is.

Thankfully my grandfather’s sentence was commuted seven years later when Stalin died, and he went on to live a life rich with meaning and fulfillment. He was an inspiration to so many and he merited to have a large family across the globe who are the Rebbe’s emissaries for life. 

But for me it is most significant that his yartzeit (anniversary of passing) will be observed this Shabbat as we read parshat Chukat. He was the paragon of unwavering loyalty to G-d and ironclad commitment to living Jewishly at all costs, even when it made no sense, because that’s the way it is.

I hope to emulate his example more often.