Sorcery: Not A Life Worth Living

Among the many laws delineated in Parshat Mishpatim is the prohibition of sorcery. In this week’s Parsha the prohibition is expressed as (22:17): “Mechashefa Lo Techayeh,” generally translated as “you shall not permit a sorceress to live.”

When describing prohibitions that are liable for the death penalty, the Torah usually uses a language of “death” ie “Mot Tamut”, “you shall surely put them to death.” The phrase “Lo Techayeh” is unusual and caught my attention.

Though this may not be the literal interpretation, I think the usage of this phrase can teach us some important lessons about life.

Two of the characteristics of sorcery are that 1) it alleges that it can predict the future and 2) it alleges that it can control events that Judaism believes are within the exclusive purview of God.

When we recall these attributes about sorcery then I think the Torah may be teaching us something relevant for all of us, even in societies in which sorcery is not common:

A life in which we are fixated on the future and trying to predict what will happen next- Lo Techayeh, is not real living. We must never ignore the present, nor take the present for granted as we plan for the future. The present is a gift (that’s why the two words are synonyms) and if we forget this and focus only on the future- there is a distinct possibility that we will never be able to experience that future that we look forward to; for once it’s the present we again look ahead. As my quote in my high school yearbook goes, "Today is the tomorrow we worried about yesterday."

Second, a life in which we believe we can and shall exclusively control our destiny, without making any room for God, is also Lo Techayeh, not a viable life plan. We must do our part, but then we must surrender and admit that we are not in total control. Though this may be difficult for us control freaks at first, in the long run it allows us some freedom, knowing that no matter how much we worry or perseverate over matters we still are not always in control.

In these ways, the prohibition of sorcery in Mishpatim helps us think about what it means to live and not to live and what is the path towards the life worth living.  

Faith and Commitment

After the revelation at Sinai and the Ten Commandments, we are told that the Jewish People were afraid of the awesomeness of the experience and asked Moshe to cut it short. They could not handle the “voice of God” and asked that Moshe serve as intermediary. Moshe responds (20:17): “Don’t be afraid; for Hashem revealed Himself today to nasot you.

There is some debate as to what the word nasot means here. Rashi claims that it is the verb form of nes, miracle. Moshe tells the people that God revealed Himself as an indication of the unique status of the Jewish People and God’s love for them. The Sinai Revelation was a sign of God’s involvement, just like a miracle.

Ramban objects to Rashi’s interpretation. He notes that we rarely ever find the verb form of miracle in Tanach, if anywhere at all. Instead, the Ramban suggests that nasot is a verb form of nisayon, test. The Revelation at Sinai served as some sort of test for the people, as to whether or not they would keep Torah and mitvot in the future.

The question then becomes: in what way is revelation and test for the Jews? One would think the exact opposite: the revelation at Sinai put to rest any doubts that the people may have had as to the existence of God; from this point forward, commitment to God’s laws should be easy, now that they people know that Hashem is real.

In his notes on the Ramban Rabbi Chayim Chavel writes:

“In this comment, the Ramban fundamentally alters our understanding concerning the relationship between faith and commitment.”

Conventional wisdom teaches that the reason why Jewish observance is lacking is related directly to the degree of faith in God. If you believe in God, then you will of course follow His commandments.

According to the Ramban, the revelation at Sinai teaches us that our test of commitment BEGINS after our questions of faith have been answered. In other words, Hashem is saying at Sinai, “You now have proof of the existence of God. Realize that there is still a challenge to follow My laws.”

Experience shows that people will often act against what they know to be the truth, or that which is good for them. Health and food intake are just one example. A person can have multiple health problems due to their diet and still not change. What the Ramban is saying is that commitment to Torah is the same thing: Just because we know that God exists, doesn’t mean that we will commit to act in accordance with that knowledge. Our humanity can very well get in our way.

The challenge does not end with a resolution of our faith questions, it merely begins there.

The lesson of the Ramban is an important one for many areas of our lives: We must strive to ensure that our actions reflect our deeply held beliefs.

Now It's A Party

At the beginning of Parshat Bo, Pharoh asks Moshe who he envisions leaving Egypt for a few days of worship? Moshe responds “With our youngsters and our elders, with our sons and our daughters…..because it is a festival of Hashem for us.”

There is no better proof of the Torah’s inclusive vision for society than this verse. It is only a Chag when the young and old participate together; when the young look to their elders with reverence and when the elders look to the youngsters with hope and optimism. It can only be a Chag for Hashem when old and young learn from each other and share with each other their knowledge and experience and insights. It can only be a Chag for Hashem when men and women participate, and each contributes to the community in their unique and essential ways.

It is only a Chag for Hashem when everyone is not only invited, but everyone shows up, everyone participates and everyone celebrates together. Only then is it the type of party to which Moshe refers to and to which Hashem is proud to lend His Name.

Choosing To Lose Our Free Will

One of the challenging ideas to understand in the Exodus story is how to relate to the idea, repeated a number of times, that God “hardened Pharoh’s heart.” This idea seems to be in conflict with the notion of free will. If it was God who hardened Pharoh’s heart, why should he be blamed. Punished for his refusal to free the Israelites?

There are a number of approaches to this question. I’d like to mention the approach of Maimonides, as expressed in his Laws of Repentance:

“It is possible that a person may commit a grave transgression, such that the True Judge rules that the punishment is that repentance is withheld from him and he will not be allowed the right to turn from his evil.”

Though this quote can be understood from a theological perspective, I understand it from a psychological one. Free will does not mean that our past decisions play no part in our choices today. There are consequences to our past actions, and sometimes those consequences include fewer options in the present. Sometimes those consequences include an inability to choose from all of the theoretical choices for a given scenario. A person can get “locked in” by previous choices. In effect, such a person can at times lose their ability to exercise their free will.

In the past I have discussed the liberating characteristic of Free Will; that every day is a new beginning that allows us to change the course of our lives and make better decisions. However Maimonides’ interpretation of the hardening of Pharoh’s heart warns us that sometimes our choices cause us to lose our ability to choose in the future.

What's In A Name?

This week we begin reading the second book of the Chumash. Our Rabbis refer to it as Sefer Hageulah, The Book of Redemption. This name aptly describes the main topics and themes contained within: The redemption from Egyptian slavery, which is only fully realized with the construction of the Tabernacle at the end of the book.

            However most of us are more familiar with the second book of the Chumash as Sefer Shemot, literally “The Book of Names”.  Besides being one of the first words of the first Parsha in the book, are there any further lessons we can derive from the name “Shemot”?

            The Medrash (Vayikra Rabba) writes that one of the merits that the Jewish People accumulated throughout their years of slavery is the fact that they never changed their names. They kept their Jewish names as a way of reminding themselves that they were not part of the majority, dominant culture of Egypt.  Their Jewish names reinforced the idea that The Jewish People came from a different culture and from ancestors that had a unique relationship with G-d. Names have the power to remind us of who we are and from where we come. It is no accident that there is a widespread Jewish custom to name babies after ancestors, whether deceased or still living.

            But names have a future oriented role as well. In Parshat Lech Lecha, Hashem changes Avram’s and Sarai’s names. Rashi (on 15:5) introduces the concept of “Shem Gorem”: that a person’s name can have an impact on their destiny. Avram and Sarai would never have children. But with new names Hashem informs Avraham and Sarah that they were now ready to be parents. Names can identify a person with a unique mission and destiny.

            This future oriented aspect of names needs to be reinforced. A person or institution can attain a “name”, or reputation in one of two ways: based on past performance or as a hope and challenge for future achievement. Too often we too hastily attach negative names to people or institutions based on past events. For example, a student that has performed poorly in the past may improve dramatically if given positive reinforcement and labeled in a good way (ie given a new name). The same is true of adults and institutions. As we begin the book of Shemot, let us realize that names not only connect us to our past, but they can help shape our future.

Loving Children Equally and Differently

Why doesn’t Yaakov learn his lesson? The trouble between Yosef and his brotehrs can be traced back, at least in part, to Yaakov’s favoring one brother over the other. Now in Parshat Vayechi, on his deathbed Yaakov does it again- not once, but twice.

First he gives Yosef a extra portion in the land of Israel, above and beyond what each tribe will get when they enter the land.

Later in the Parsha, Yaakov favors Yosef’s younger son Efraim over Menashe by placing his dominant hand on Efraim. Why doesn't Yaakov learn that “playing favorites” can lead to problems?

One answer is that Yaakov doesn't learn from his mistake, because Yaakov does not see it as a mistake. The problem was never with what Yaakov did; the problem lay with how the brothers reacted to this perceived favoritism.

Every person is different. We each have our unique talents and potential. It is therefore impossible for each person to be treated in an identical fashion. Just as we are different so too each of us needs different things in order to realize our potential. Why did Yaakov treat Yosef differently? Maybe he saw leadership qualities in Yosef that none of the other brotehrs demonstrated. Maybe it’s because Yosef had lost his mother at a young age, unlike any of the other siblings. The problem was not that Yaakov treated Yosef differently. The problem was that the brothers perceived that difference as being qualitative.

To highlight this point, Yaakov “favors” Efraim in Parshat Vayechi. It is as if Yaakov wants us to understand that he has no regrets over how he treated Yosef. If anything, his regrets lie in his not recognizing the brothers’ mistaken attitudes towards this perceived favoritism.

This is a tough, but important, lesson for us all to learn; especially parents and children. We must love each of our children unconditionally and to the maximum degree. But that does not mean that we should love them each in the same identical manner. Each child is an individual and therefore a parent’s approach must be individualized.

Forgiving and Forgetting

In Parshat Vayigash, Yosef reveals his true identity to his brothers and the reunion continues, when Yaakov and the rest of the family move down to Egypt. From his words, Yosef seems gracious and forgiving. And yet the brothers remain concerned. Yosef assuages their fears numerous times. And yet we see that years later after Yaakov dies, the brothers are still worried that Yosef had not forgiven them. In Parshat Vayechi, the text itself indicates this fear, as the brothers make up a deathbed scene in which Yaakov commands the brothers to tell Yosef to forgive them. And this idea is pointed out in more subtle ways as well. For instance. 

In Parshat Vayechi, Yosef is called (from elsewhere) to be informed that Yaakov is on his deathbed. Some commentators utilize that expression to suggest that Yosef remained estranged from his brothers, even after the reunion. If Yosef says that he has forgiven his brothers, then why don’t we believe him?

            

There are two answers to this question. First, if we look carefully at Yosef’s words we can suggest a double meaning:

“(45:5) And now do not be grieved, nor angry at yourselves that you sold me HERE (HEYNA)….”

45:8): “It was not you who sent me HERE (HAYNA), but rather God…..”

            

Reading between the lines one could suggest that Yosef tells the brothers not to worry about the fact that he ended up in Egypt…. But he may not have let them off the hook for initially throwing him into a pit and selling him to the wandering caravan.

            

Second, one could suggest that the pesukim here are teaching an important lesson. Forgiveness is encouraged for the victim, but the perpetrators should never forget their mistake; so that they don’t repeat it, so that they can make amends, and so that they can improve into the future.”