A fellow was making a fancy banquet for a very happy occasion. He invited 150 guests. As he showed up to the shul where the event was taking place, he sees 400 people, many uninvited guests who came for the food and the fun.
So he gets up and says: Whoever is here from the side of the bride, please rise.
100 people rise.
Now, whoever is here from the side of the groom, please rise.
And 150 people stand up.
So he says: Okay all of you guys can leave now. As this event is actually a bar mitzvah!...
The Nachmanides raises a fascinating question about the opening of this week’s portion, Lech Lecha. In one word the question is: What happened to the bio?
The Torah constantly introduces us to new characters assuming different roles, fulfilling different tasks, and carrying force different ideas. Before we begin to hear their story we are told a few words about their background, in order to give us context, allowing us to understand why they ended up filling this role.
Take Noach. The Torah does not begin his story by telling us that G-d told him to build an ark and rescue himself and his family from the flood. First, the Torah gives us background information. “The earth was corrupt. And Noach founds grace in the eyes of G-d.” “This is the story of Noach. Noach was a righteous man, wholesome was he in his generation. Noach walked with G-d.”
Only then does the Torah goes on to tell us that G-d spoke to Noach, told him about the flood and instructed him to build an ark. So now we understand why him.
Take Moses. The Torah does not begin his story by telling us that G-d showed up one day in his life and summoned him to redeem the people. First, we learn of his background. He grew up in Pharaoh’s palace; them we learn of how he saved a Jew from an Egyptian beating him to death, followed by an escape from Egypt. When Moses is chosen we already know that ere is a man of royal upbringing and of moral courage. We understand why him.
There is one exception in the entire Torah. It is Abraham.
"G-d said to Abraham, 'Go to yourself, from your land, from your birthplace, and from your father's house to land that I will show you. And I will make you a great nation, I will bless you, I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing . . . all the families of the earth will be blessed through you .’"
Why Abraham? Why was he chosen? What did he do to earn this special call from G-d? The Torah says nothing about Abraham prior to this encounter. And then, suddenly, out of the blue, the Torah tells us how G-d spoke to Abraham, told him to leave his land, and relocate to a new land, Kanaan, and promises him that he will change the world!
G-d says to him that he will father a great nation and that all nations will become blessed by him. Abraham is chosen as the first Jew, responsible to introduce Monotheism to the world, and charged with the mission to change the landscape of the planet. The entire rest of the Bible hinges on this opening commandment to Abraham.
This is beyond strange. Why him? Why was he selected?
From the Torah text, it seems like an absolutely random selection! Not even a single narrative is told about Abraham’s unique virtues to underscore his greatness. To be sure, the Talmud and the Midrash offer numerous stories about Abraham’s youth, his search for truth, his endless inquisitiveness and yearning to discover the origin of existence and the true G-d; his sacrifices for the truth he discovered and for the convictions he espoused. And yet, in the text of the Torah, none of these episodes are mentioned, not even one verse! As far as the biblical text does, Abraham is chosen simply out of the blue.
It was Rabbi Yehuda Loew of Prague, known as the Maharal, who gave the most stunning answer.
Had the Torah introduced Abraham by telling us all of his virtues and accomplishments till this point in his life, we might have thought that they were the impetus for G-d to choose him. What made Abraham the first Jew was not his many merits and achievements, his holiness and spiritual greatness. That would lead us to the conclusion that the Jewishness of a Jew is based on his or her deeds and merits. Abraham was chosen as the first Jew because of his spiritual stature, and so are we.
The Torah wants to intimate to us that the status of a Jew has nothing to do with his or her spiritual achievements or virtues. G-d’s choice of Abraham is not connected with his previous deeds and work, teaching us that our Jewishness is not enhanced or diminished by what we do or what we do not do.
What makes a Jew a Jew? Not our learning; not his piety; not his observance; not his behaviors. Of course, these all allow us to experience our Jewishness and live it to the fullest; to express it in our lives and to live holistically. But what makes a Jew Jewish is the fact that G-d told Abraham, “Go to yourself, from your land…” It is fact that G-d chose his/her soul and body to be in a unique covenant and relationship with Him.
My colleague Rabbi Aaron Moss from Sydney received this email:
Although I was raised in a traditional home, was brissed and barmitzvad (sorry about these spellings) I have never had any faith or "religious" belief. I am now aged 34 and would describe myself as an atheist. I have no wish to be buried in a Jewish cemetery (and my Will will also make this clear) and have married a non-Jew in a civil ceremony.
My question is, can I consider myself officially non-Jewish, by my effective opting-out, or do I need some sort of form or dispensation to be officially no longer Jewish?
Many thanks for your help with what is perhaps an unusual question.
Edward
How would you answer? This was his:
Dear Edward,
I would like to help you, but I feel there's nothing I can do.
According to your question, you have done everything possible to negate your Jewishness: in practice you do not keep Jewish tradition; in belief you are an atheist; in family life you have married a non-Jew and thus won't have Jewish children, and even in death you are determined not to be buried in a Jewish cemetery.
One would think that all this would be enough to confirm your un-Jewishness.
But no! For some reason, you are still unsatisfied: you still feel Jewish! So much so, you feel you need official dispensation!
And so, being an atheist, who do you turn to solve this problem? A doctor? A psychiatrist? The civil celebrant that married you? No... You turn to a rabbi!
I'm reminded of the child who ran away from home but ended up just going around and around the block because his parents told him never to cross the road by himself.
I'm sorry, Edward. There is nothing more you can do. You are as Jewish as Moses and the Chief Rabbi of Wales!
In fact, it seems that being Jewish is the most dominant factor of your personality. It is even influencing the place you want to be buried! (Why would an atheist care about where they are buried?)
Edward, Jewishness is not a belief, a feeling, a conviction or a lifestyle. It is a state of being. We can either celebrate it or fight against it. But it will always be there. So why not celebrate it?
Therefore, the Torah introduces the story of Abraham without any bio, no CV, no resume, no list of accolades of what made him worthy of this honor. Because to be a Jew means that you are a child of G-d, and a child is a child, is a child, under all circumstances. I may have a child who gives me nachat, and I may have a child who causes me sleepless nights; I may have a child who loves me, and a child who has issues with me; I may have a child who calls me every day, and a child who calls once a year, if I am lucky. But they are both children! None of them is more of a child than the other one. Yes, one of them behaves more like a child; one of them feels more like a child. But they are both equally children.
This is the story of our people. A Jew is a Jew is a Jew!
I got an email from a Rabbi on the Eve of Yom Kippur. He went to meet a Jew to invite him to come to Yom Kippur service in his Chabad House. The Jew agreed. In the office was sitting also this man’s brother. So the Chabad Rabbi invited him also to attend Yom Kippur services.
The Jew responds: Oh No! I already have a flight booked that night. I will be on a plane, and I can’t come to shul.
But do not worry, Rabbi. I knew it was Yom Kippur; so I ordered this time a KOSHER meal for the airplane.
Yes, not exactly the right way to observe Yom Kippur by eating a kosher meal on an airplane… But, I ask you, is he not a JEW?
One of the greatest figures in the history of Diaspora Jewry was Rabbanu Gershom, who lived from 960 till 1020 and was the undisputed leader of German Jewry. He was given the title the 'Illuminator of the Exile.' Why was this illustrious and august title given to him and not to Rashi, or Maimonides, or Nachmanides or the many other giants of spirit, piety, and Torah who lived over the last 1900 years in exile?
Rabbi Gershom instituted a number of institutions in Jewish life. One of them was his prohibition of polygamy. The Torah never encouraged marriage with more than one spouse, but it was allowed. Rabbi Gershom forbade it. Another ben he issued was against divorcing a wife against her will. A man could not decide to get divorced and just carry it out without the consent of his wife (unless in extreme circumstances of abuse or horrible behavior, when according to Torah law the courts must compel a husband or wife to give and accept a divorce.)
Now, these are important edicts and they have had a profound impact on Jewish life. Still, why did he exclusively receive this title “The light of the exile?”
The answer is powerful. Every law in Judaism reflects a cosmic law in the universe and a cosmic law in the connection between heaven and earth. The Midrash famously says that G-d himself is “bound” by Torah law. The law of Rabanu Geshom was not just a physical law about physical couples, but also a spiritual law.
The relationship of the Jewish People to Hashem is that of a wife to a husband. Hashem 'married' the Jewish People. Yet in the 10th century, as Europe was almost completely controlled by the Catholic Church, and the persecutions against the Jews reached a critical mass, Jews began asking if perhaps G-d had divorced them. The Christians themselves would often taunt the Jews, saying: The very subservience of your people to the Christians proves that you are no more the Chosen People. G-d has “divorced” you. The marriage is terminated. There is only one alternative for you: the Church.
Came Rabanu Gershom and taught the truth: a husband can’t divorce his wife against his will! This was not only a physical law; it was a spiritual law. Rabanu Gershom taught the Jewish people that G-d “Can’t” divorce them. Our relationship is eternal because it is intrinsic, innate and essential.
Okay, said the Christians, and many Jews. He did not divorce you. But he married the second woman! G-d may be married to you technically, but a new “woman” came into his life.
No, said Rabanu Gershom. No polygamy! As we say on Yom Kippur, “We are your nation, and You are our G-d… We are your wife, and you are our lover.” Although we were exiled and although it seemed that the people of Israel were downtrodden, dejected and forsaken, the truth was that the relationship with Abraham was as powerful as ever, even if concealed.
It is for this reason that Rabbanu Gershom is called the "Illuminator of the Exile." Because it was through his laws and teachings that he kindled a light in the darkness of exile; he ignited a spark of hope and a torch of passion in the heart of Jewish existence in the tenth century, so filled with gloom, darkness, and despair. Rabanu Gershom inspired the nation. He reminded us that the relationship of the Jew and G-d is unbreakable. No circumstances, no behaviors, no sins, no exiles, no blockages, can ever obliterate the love or dim the passion or compromise the bond.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky
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