Shabbat: Parsha Shoftim

Shabbat Shalom and welcome to Judeo Talk. The Torah portion for this week is Parsha Shoftim, Deuteronomy 16:18-21:9.

There is something of a problem with large-scale social order based on religious mysticism. Namely, that any literate person who can put on a good act is capable of pretending to have divine knowledge. This issue is the basis of a significant portion of the written laws of ancient civilizations. A particularly well-known case is that of the Babylonian king Hammurabi. In approximately 1790 BCE, King Hammurabi told his people that the gods had come to him the night before and told him the law. This is hardly the earliest case of codified law in the ancient world, but it stands out by its explicit claim of divine ordination. This is all well and good for just, fair laws, but it's easy to see how dubious claims of godly inspiration can result in tyranny.

Parsha Shoftim addresses this, among other, issues. First, this is one of the earliest sections of the Torah that specifically discusses the nature of a proper Jewish king. Moses tells the Israelites to appoint a king as soon as they settle the Promised Land and select their judges. This in itself is an important order of events. The law literally comes before the king. Then, when a king is selected, he is to be given a series of heavy restrictions. The most important duty of any king of Israel is that he is obligated to transcribe a copy of the Torah, word for word, under the supervision of priests. After the transcription, he is obligated to read the text every day for the rest of his life. In short, the king is supposed to know the law inside and out, plus he should have a healthy fear of God at all times.

But there are other requirements for the king that are just as important. In short order, Jewish kings are forbidden to pursue their own gain in practically all of its forms. They aren't allowed to seek out any expansion of their treasury, their vineyards or the horse stock. Translation: You're not allowed to go to war for material gain, you're not allowed to be a materialistic drunkard and you're not allowed to enter trade agreements with enemy nations (horse trading was a major industry in Egypt at the time). The Torah makes the purpose of a king clear. They aren't so much rulers as they are caretakers.

Directly following the passages about kingship, Shoftim address the concern of false prophets. Its metric for identifying fakers is rather elegant in its simplicity. A real prophet only gets his information from God, so nothing he says could possibly be untrue. If someone claiming to be a profit is ever wrong about anything after saying that it comes from God, then he's not a prophet. Given the fallible nature of humanity, the worst that can happen is someone might get away with conning the people for a short time. As soon as he makes a mistake, he better be prepared to run.

The lesson we should take away from this section of Shoftim (it's a loaded parsha, so there's a lot we won't get to this time around) is that we need to have systems in place for leadership accountability. While the Torah is far from misanthropic, it certainly recognizes that people are capable of all manner of abuses, especially those who have power. There's no such thing as a 100% safeguard against corruption, but we also aren't left with just the honor system. We all deal with and are leaders of many sorts in our lives. Parents, bosses, clergy, political representatives, landlords, etc. Though we can't apply the laws of the Torah directly to these leaders in our lives, we can at least chasten ourselves when we take on our own positions of leadership. If the Torah gives us nothing else, it at least provides a means for self-reflection and personal preparation.

Person of the Week: Sandy Koufax

In a memorably funny scene from the 1980 Jim Abraham/Zucker Brothers comedy Airplane! a passenger asks for some light reading material and is handed a thin pamphlet entitled "Great Jewish Athletes". While it's true that Jews don't have as much of a presence in sports as we do in entertainment or academia, there are a few notable names on one field or another. The first one to be mentioned is often baseball legend Sandy Koufax.

The funny part about this famous pitcher for the Dodgers (both iterations thereof) is that his career in baseball almost never happened, several times in fact. Born Sandford Braun in 1935, his parents divorced when he was only three years old. Six years later, his mother remarried to a man named Irving Koufax and the family moved from their native Brooklyn to the Long Island suburb of Rockville. If the Koufax household hadn't returned to Brooklyn several years later, Sandy never would have attended Lafayette High School where Milt Laurie saw Sandy play baseball and subsequently recruited him as a pitcher for the Coney Island Sports League. This kept him in high-intensity practice in the years before he found his way onto the varsity baseball team at the University of Cincinnati.

Of course, Koufax could have found his way into the NBA instead. While he was undoubtedly a talented pitcher, Sandy Koufax also had a passion for basketball at an early age. He played for the varsity basketball teams in both high school and college, even attending UofC on a basketball scholarship. But it was Brooklyn Dodgers scout Bill Zinser who caught Sandy's gift on the mound, proving to the young pitcher that he could have a future in Major League Baseball.

Before ultimately signing with the Dodgers with the help of another scout, Al Campanis, Sandy Koufax tried out for several other teams in 1955. He so impressed the Dodgers' management that they offered him a contract and signing bonus equal to $20,000, the modern day equivalent of a six-figure deal. From there, Sandy Koufax began a 12-year pitching career that has gone down in history as one of the most impressive in the sport.

Though it may seem like an apocryphal story, it is true that Sandy Koufax refused to pitch in the first game of the 1965 World Series because it conflicted with Yom Kippur. Many a Jewish parent since then (I speak from experience) has used this incident as an example of the importance of religious obligation.

Sandy Koufax has a wall full of awards for his time with the Dodgers. He is a three-time winner of the Cy Young Award, two-time Babe Ruth Award winner, was named the 1963 MVP of the National League, helped bring the Dodgers three World Series wins and was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame just a few years after his retirement. He had to leave the field at the tragically young age of 32 due to arthritis in his arm. Since his retirement, he has been a sports commentator and a minor league pitching coach.

Sandy Koufax cemented himself early as a legendary sports star. With a combination of raw talent and a principled disposition, he stands as a fine example for all aspiring athletes.

Judaism as a Civilization: An Introduction

Over the course of my life I have heard many definitions of what it means to be Jewish. There are those who say it is an ethnicity, others a culture, still others who contend that it can only be a religious philosophy. Frankly, I don't think that any of these designations are entirely accurate. By the same token, I think it's important that we do come to an understanding of just what Judaism or the Jewish life is. I would like to submit, however humbly and inadequately given the limits of this blog, that Judaism is best defined as a civilization.

The task of defining Judaism is so difficult thanks in large part to the evolution of the Jewish people through time. It began in the customs of the Hebrew people, a loose collection of nomads to whom there are only a scant few references in the art and literature of dominant societies at the dawn of recorded history. Through some means, the Hebrew people became the Israelites and briefly held a kingdom in the Levant, but that particular strip of land fell under the control of so many other forces even in its earliest days that it's impossible to say whether or not having actual borders was the source of the Jewish identity. That this identity has survived long after the original kingdom fell suggests otherwise.

In consideration of the above, many people have been satisfied to call Judaism a culture. After all, it is a string of language, customs and beliefs that are held in common between a distinct group of people. Still, there is a difference between distinct and discreet. However recognizable Jews have been in any given society, we have never been entirely apart from the cultures we inhabit. The Jews of medieval France differed greatly from the Jews of medieval Morocco. They were people of their cultures, just as Jews around the world today are people of their cultures. I, for instance, am American in my manner of dress, in my primary language, in the food I eat and the way I celebrate holidays both national and religious. I am certainly a Jew, but Judaism is not my culture.

This in mind, Judaism is also not just a religion. One does not have to practice Jewish rituals in order to live by many other Jewish customs. Indeed many people who self-identify as Jews and are recognized by others as being Jewish don't actually engage in Judaic ritual and philosophy. There are, strange as it sounds, atheist Jews. Even if the religion does not survive unto the next generation, certain elements of the lifestyle persist.

So, it is my contention that Judaism can only be accurately defined as a civilization and nothing more exact than that. In the same way we refer to "Western Civilization" as a vague but undeniably influential force in human society, likewise should we refer to Jewish Civilization. It is a thread that has run through much of recorded human history, the central driving force behind the dominance of monotheistic faith around the globe and a continued presence in an era when many cultural distinctions are breaking down. That Jewish Civilization hasn't ever been geographically restricted is in keeping with its origins in nomadism. It is not my intent here to make Judaism seem more important or grandiose, simply to adjust a number of ill-fitting definitions.

Shabbat: Parsha Ri'eh

Shabbat Shalom and welcome to Judeo Talk. The Torah portion for this week is Parsha Ri'eh, Deuteronomy 11:26-16:17.

If ever a scholar needed a quick and dirty reference text for kosher law, Ri'eh is it. As is the trend in Deuteronomy, much of this parsha is a recap of various related rules, morals and ordinances. It discusses what may and may not be eaten, how people may and may not worship and what separates a bondsman from a free man.

The main theme running through this parsha is the creation of divisions. According to the law there is ritual distinction between the Hebrew and the foreigner such that the foreigner is not obligated to follow the dietary laws of kashrut, but neither is the foreigner permitted to lend a Hebrew person money or other resources. It is clear in Ri'eh that the Israelites are to consider all non-Jews to be ignorant of the law and therefore not obligated to follow it, or for that matter not trustworthy according to the ethics set out by the Torah. This opens up the potential for a discussion on how the Torah views the nature of morality.

If one were to only reference parsha Ri'eh, one would come away thinking that the Torah deems all non-Jews inherently wicked. In short, this Torah portion is very unforgiving. The foreigner is ritually impure, is not to be trusted as a lender and has a spiritually poisonous presence that would turn devout Jews away from their God and their people. Thankfully, no portion of the Torah is meant to be read independent of the others. We know from previous parshiot that the Torah has the concept of the Righteous Gentile, the foreigner who has not been educated with the Law but still lives a good, ethical life.

So, what can we infer from these two concepts? In essence, that the philosophy of the Torah is one of will. Being a Hebrew does not make one automatically righteous nor does being a foreigner automatically make one evil. This parsha makes it clear that there must be a distinction between those who have been taught Judaic law and those who never had the opportunity. Basically, it's worse to break one of the rules knowingly than to sin in ignorance.

The other striking thing about this parsha is how brutal the law has become concerning the worship of other gods. In the plainest terms possible, anyone who even suggests following another deity is to be put to death on the spot. People are even encouraged to exact justice on their family members when they break this rule. As always, I think it's important to ask why this proclamation has been made at this particular time.

The Israelites are nearing the endgame for their story. Ri'eh points out all of the ways in which this infant nation could be compromised. It urges equal awareness of the threats from within as the ones from without. It's nationalism pure and simple, a fiery rush to the finish with as much of the culture intact as possible. It's ugly and it's frightening, but at the same time it looks a lot like revolution. The society is being closed off against any cultural intrusion and steeled against any internal weakness. For us modern readers, we need to understand that these ancient Hebrews were in a very different position than we are today. Unlike us, it didn't benefit them to be inclusive or multicultural. Being human, we might still have a lot in common with our ancestors, but we must also recognize how much our world has changed and continues to change.

Person of the Week: Dr. Ruth Westheimer

Since the early 1980's the most prominent figure of modern sexual psychology has improbably been a short, sweet and often grandmotherly woman named Karola Ruth Westheimer. Most of us know her better as Dr. Ruth. Her frank, thoughtful approach to human sexual relationships now comes with the label "Sex-Positive Culture" and any modern psychologist worth his or her salt is familiar with it. What a lot of people don't know is that the gentle old lady who gives good-natured sex advice is also a dedicated Zionist and a war hero.

Karola Ruth Siegel was born in Frankfurt, Germany in 1928. She grew up in an orthodox Jewish family, but was tragically separated from them at the age of 11 during the rise of the Nazi party in Europe. She spent the remaining days of her childhood in a Swiss orphanage for displaced Jewish children while her parents both died at Auschwitz. Upon confirming the loss of her family, Ruth emigrated to the British Mandate of Palestine where she soon joined the Haganah army and trained as sharpshooter.

in 1948 at the age of 20, Ruth fought in the Israeli War of Independence. She suffered a severe leg injury from an enemy shell attack and spent several months recovering and learning to walk again. Two years after the war, she met her first husband, a soldier and kibbutz worker named David. After a few years of globetrotting, Ruth came to live in New York City, though her marriage to David had since ended.

Through the 1950's and 60's, Ruth continued her education and eventually attained several degrees relating to psychology, sociology and teaching. She met Manfred Westheimer, her husband of 30 years until his death in 1997, during this period. It was through one of several small jobs, this one at a Planned Parenthood branch, that Ruth came to appreciate modern advances in sex-related psychological practices. Specifically, she worked with the pioneering psychologist Dr. Helen Singer Kaplan and soon began conducting speaking engagements of her own. This led to a small radio program at NBC that eventually turned into the wildly popular Sexually Speaking with Dr. Ruth.

In addition to her radio show, Dr. Westheimer maintains a private therapy practice in New York and is an active member of two synagogues. She has two children, Miriam from her second marriage and Joel from Manfred Westheimer. Dr. Ruth has been active on the World Wide Web since 1996. Her website is regularly updated with articles and quick videos featuring a still very spry 81-year-old Ruth. She maintains several posts at highly respected universities. Aside from her work as a therapist and psychology educator, she has been behind a number of films and other projects on the subject of humanitarian crises and the preservation of Jewish culture.

Dr. Ruth's approachable demeanor and humane counseling style have helped her popularize a climate of progressive thinking that promotes communication, understanding and equality. The subject of Dr. Ruth's platform may be sex, but the values surrounding it are universal.

Shabbat: Parsha Eikev

Shabbat Shalom and welcome to Judeo Talk. The Torah portion for this week is Parsha Eikev, Deuteronomy 7:12-11:25.

Many figures of speech and famous phrases have a biblical origin. Phrases like "An eye for an eye" come directly out of the Torah and have come to have meaning in just about every language spoken by people who follow Abrahamic faiths. But not all poetic turns of phrase from the Torah made it into the modern age. Eikev is interesting in that contains two lines that are meant to be powerful figures of speech but only one of them has survived into modern parlance. It's not difficult to see why considering the context of one of them.

The more famous of the two figurative phrases in this parsha is "Man cannot live on bread alone..." This is not the entire line, but it's the part that is in continued use. The rest of the phrase is, "...but by everything that proceeds out of the mouth of the Lord does man live." In so many words, the modern usage of this saying conveys the same basic idea: There must be a reasonable expectation of satisfaction and dignity in a just world.

In this Torah portion, this phrase is meant as a reminder that one should not settle for being at the bottom of any society or for having less than the full measure of life. The Israelites need more than a little ambition at this point in their journey. After 40 years in the wilderness, the hard part is just beginning.

The other major poetic phrase in Eikev has all but disappeared since its first use in the Torah. After reminding them of their own struggle with righteousness and all of the mistakes they've made since leaving Egypt, Moses implores the Israelites to, "Circumcise thy heart" and accept the laws of God. This is a remarkably strange image and it requires a tremendous amount of cultural context to make any sense. After all of the giggles in the room have gone quiet, one might venture to explain that this is a figurative call to be both holy and open-minded. A more modern, though not entirely accurate, phrase would be, "open your heart". That only covers half of the meaning of the saying, though. Certainly it's asking the Israelites to be mentally and emotionally receptive, but it's also asking them to make a lifelong commitment to holiness. Even more than that, it's asking them to be different.

The exact setting for this parsha is prior to the invasion of Jordan to fight against the Anakim. These people have been described up until this point as being unbeatable. The prelude to the battle is framed against many of the other conflicts, both internal and external, the Israelites have faced in the wilderness. Moreover, this speech refers several times to the sin of worshiping other gods. In this time and place, circumcision was unique to the Hebrew people as a culture-wide practice. It was something that made them stand apart from their neighbors. When Moses asks the Israelites to "circumcise" their hearts, he's asking them to make their thoughts and feelings stand apart just as much as their bodies.

Certainly Jews have made it a point to be different than the cultures that surround them throughout history. At our best, we've attempted to stand for righteousness and law when those things were unpopular and in jeopardy. But as Moses also reminds us in Eikev, we're not holy crusaders who have done no wrong. We, too, are guilty of every crime and iniquity of the stranger. Like circumcision, the decision to do the right thing is not automatic, it comes with loss and pain, and it is often the responsibility of the community to make sure it happens.

Person of the Week: Albert Einstein

I've been hesitant to feature Albert Einstein in the Person of the Week column for two reasons. First, Einstein is such a well-known figure and so much has been written about him already that much of what I would write has already undergone a much more thorough analysis than I could offer here. The other reason I've avoided featuring Einstein is because there is some question, however ill-informed, about the degree of his devotion to Judaism. It is that point I would like to address in this column.

Albert Einstein could not have been more clear about his positions on faith. He rejected both atheism and organized religion, though he only grudgingly accepted the term "agnostic". Einstein was, like all of the greatest thinkers of his time, more concerned with a measured focus on truth and balance than on claiming one side of an argument absolutely correct. In fact, he had much in common with other great Jewish minds. On the rare occasion that he entertained philosophy, Einstein nodded to Spinoza, and in terms of politics he shared the eloquence and moderation of Abba Eban.

Though Einstein's beliefs were not classically Jewish, it is a mistake to call his thoughts and actions improper from a Jewish perspective. Aside from the fact that he was an outspoken opponent of fascism as it rose around him in Europe as well as peace-minded Zionist, Einstein used his influence to save Jewish lives from Nazi persecution. Specifically, he was one of the minds to conceive the International Rescue Committee, a body that was formed to aid those persecuted by fascist forces in Germany and Italy during the Second World War, and which now continues to provide aid for persecuted people around the globe.

Whole books have been written about Albert Einstein's vocal humanitarianism and his devotion to Jewish liberation in the 20th century. Just because he wasn't a regular congregant at a synagogue does not mean he had rejected the principles of Judaism. It is hopelessly outdated dogma to draw the line between Jew and non-Jew at the belief in a personal God. After all, where in Judaism is there unquestionable description of God? It is not the purpose of Judaism or the aim of a Jewish life to preach divinity. The purpose is to make this world a better place based on a fundamental belief in the value of life. Einstein was a Jew by culture and in behavior. Donning talit and speaking the Shema no more makes one a Jew than wearing a cowboy hat and singing "Yankee Doodle" makes one an American.

From a Judaic perspective, the most interesting part about Einstein's philosophy is the way he understood the idea of a Jewish nation. In his speech, "Our Debt to Zionism" he said,

"My awareness of the essential nature of Judaism resists the idea of a Jewish state with borders, an army, and a measure of temporal power, no matter how modest."

This is a perspective one could only gain from a close reading of the central scriptures of Judaism. As far as the Torah is concerned, it is law and unity that makes a nation, not physical properties. In a very roundabout way, Einstein's thoughtful dismissals and acts of intellectual self-defense can be used as the basis of modern Jewish thought.

For his devotion and his genius, Albert Einstein stands as an example of what Jewish philosophy strives to impart to all people. Though he likely would not have called himself a Jew, it's not really likely he would have called himself anything. In the end, it is not the title or the ritual that makes a Jew, but a whole-hearted appreciation for creation.

Shabbat: Parsha Va'etchanan

Shabbat Shalom and welcome to Judeo Talk. The Torah portion for this week is Parsha Va'etchanan, Deuteronomy 3:23-7:11.

I frequently refer to certain parshiot as being "loaded", that is, containing an unusually high density of extremely interesting, important information. Va'etchanan, in that regard, is half-loaded. Much of Deuteronomy is concerned with recounting the history of the Israelites and reiterating the most important laws. In a sense, it's a kind of Cliff's Notes version of the Torah after Genesis. Mixed in with this civics lesson are several key passages, some that were intended to stand out and others that came to stand out thanks to the rabbinical construction of the standard liturgy.

In the midst of a disjointed listing of the Ten Mitzvot, readers will find a pair of very familiar prayers in Va'etchanan, side-by-side no less. It is from this parsha that we get the Shemah prayer, often considered the most important prayer in Jewish liturgy, and we also find the majority of the text for the V'ahavtah prayer.

These ancient words have been repeated by every generation of Jews without fail for thousands of years. It is truly stirring to imagine the first leaders who poured over the passages of Va'etchanan and were inspired to speak them aloud at every congregation of Jews. Why these sections and not the many, many others in the Torah?

If Deuteronomy is the quick gloss of essential passages, then what are the prayers pulled from one of its portions but the most fundamental elements of what it means to be a Jew? These prayers have simple but powerful messages. The brief, convicted Shemah cements the phrases in the minds of those who speak it. Our God stands alone. Our God stands with us. Our God stands forever. If you know nothing else of Torah, at least know the Shemah.

And the V'ahavtah, the prayer that implores us to, before anything else, go with love. It is the prayer that says you can and should be a righteous person wherever you go, whatever you do. And most importantly, it tells us to teach our children to behave likewise.

Deuteronomy is Moses saying goodbye to his people. It's his way of telling them to be good in his absence. With the above two prayers that stood out so strongly for ancient Jews, we are being told what it means to be good. Simply, to live with devotion and know that there is no boundary to the truth that validates it.

There's one more line from Va'etchanan I want to address today. In so many words, there is the promise that those who reject God will suffer down through four generation, but those who love God will prosper down to the thousandth generation. While this is certainly intended as a promise of reward and consequence, it also makes a clear point about the nature of negativity and positivity. The negative, it reasons, is short-term and those who embrace it are short-sighted. But the pursuit of goodness and prosperity, by the same token, has much more long-term potential. It's the difference between cutting down a tree, which provides immediate gain, and planting a tree, which provides the potential for an entire forest many years down the line. As the Israelites stand at the entrance to their nation, they're being told to live for the long-term. By extension, we're being told the same.

Modern Progressive Judaism and Women

Last week's Person of the Week was Gloria Steinem and while I didn't have the space to talk about the subject of Judaism and its view of women very much in that article, I'd like to address that topic in depth today. While there is no doubt that ancient Judaism was, like every culture of the time, quite misogynistic, it is incorrect to assume that the much more egalitarian views of the modern Progressive movement are merely reactions to similar trends in the secular world. Not only is a non-sexist application of Judaism more palatable to 21st century society, it is also philosophically sound within the faith regardless of era.

The first hurtle in front of Jewish gender equality is biblical literalism, the foundation of fundamentalist teachings in any Abrahamic faith. Literalism contends that everything written in the Bible is fact and that any deviation from the exact letter of the law is sin. This point of view was almost entirely rejected by Jewish scholars as early as the 1400's. Even the most strict adherents to direct interpretation, such as Rav Moshe ben Nachman, understood the importance of progress and development in the study of Torah.

In place of literalism we find the much more widely accepted method of layered interpretation. It is common practice now and has been for centuries to approach holy texts with a mind to unravel the myriad meanings therein, not to simply take the words at face value. As such, we cannot help but bring our modern minds into the process. Simply put, at the time of the writing of the Torah all was not known about the world. Given new, more accurate information it is essential that our understanding of the Torah changes and, hopefully, improves.

So, while many passages in the Torah are unambiguously misogynistic, we can chalk the inequity up to a lack of relevant information. The ancient people made an incorrect assumption about the roles and aptitudes of women, but that does not mean that the entirety of the Torah should be discarded with that false assumption. Rather, we merely need to correct the course of our study to pursue the intent of the passage.

My favorite example of Progressive, egalitarian revision to Jewish philosophy is a particular selection from the liturgy. The Avot prayer is a very old evocation of the names of the Patriarchs Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The prayer is careful to list each name after the term Elohai, meaning "God of". By mentioning the name of God prior to each name, the implication is that God interacted uniquely with the three individuals and that we ought to study the stories of each with equal care.

In the second half of the 20th century, Progressive congregations began adding the names of the Matriarchs Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah to the evocation. While this may seem like a capitulation to modern political ethics, in truth it is actually only proper from a religious standpoint. The individual Matriarchs, just like the Patriarchs, each had a unique relationship with God. They weren't merely the wives of important men, they were figures in their own stories and in some cases were even prophets. To leave them out of the prayer would be to encourage an incomplete reading of the Torah.

The most enlightened individuals in any society have discarded old, false assumptions about women. All the same, they have built expanded ethical philosophies on a foundation of ancient knowledge. Though it requires adjustments and deeper consideration, a Progressive approach to Jewish philosophy including no less than total equity across our species is a more enlightened and, yes, more correct version of the faith.

Shabbat: Parsha Devarim

Shabbat Shalom and welcome to Judeo Talk. The Torah portion for this week is Parsha Devarim, Deuteronomy 1:1-3:22.

We've hit the home stretch. This week we begin Devarim, the book of Deuteronomy, the conclusion of the Five Books of Moses. Much of this book takes the form of Moses speaking directly to the Israelites just days before they are to enter to the Promised Land and officially make their nation. Parsha Devarim takes place in year 40, month 11, essentially zero hour. The people have been in the wilderness staving off starvation, dehydration, plague and war since they left Egypt a full generation prior. At this time, Moses stands before them and reviews their recent history.

This first so-called "sermon" by Moses is an exhaustive recompilation of war stories. He talks about all the peoples with whom the Israelites have clashed, the battles they've won and those they've lost. It's a tale of nothing but pain, destruction and seemingly needless loss. It gets to the point when, in so many words, all the men of war have expired by one means or another. By comparison, the second generation in the wilderness seems so fresh and full of potential.

Put in such sharp relief, this lifetime of warring seems so exhausting. I think it's meant to be that way. I can't help but see this opening portion of Deuteronomy in the context of ancient Near and Middle Eastern society. Placing these stories in the mindset of the socio-political condition of that time and place shows just how important this moment before claiming the Promised Land would have been. We're not just talking about religious fulfillment or creating an independent nation, we're witnessing the rejection of an inferior lifestyle.

In the earliest centuries of human civilization, especially in the aforementioned region, there were two kinds of people. The majority were those who served the city, living under monarchs and forming national identities. The others were nomads who were often not permitted to enter the cities or their surrounding land. There is a lot of linguistic evidence that this is where the term "Hebrew" comes from. A common word in the ancient Near East was Ibiru, which came to Egypt and became Ipiru. The word essentially meant, "People from the other side of the river", a colloquialism that has the same connotation as "from the wrong side of the tracks". Ibiru were nomads, deemed unfit for the city. They were often hired as mercenaries and many took to marauding the cities for resources. This is what we're witnessing in the Book of Numbers, the ransacking of civilization for the sake of survival and from a lack of better sense.

So, when we read Moses's utterly exhausting account of the wars that blend into one another and ultimately amount to nothing, we are supposed to see how this marauding lifestyle has laid waste to an entire generation. The children of the nomads stand on the border of a better life while their fathers die as materialistic parasites. The older generation lives this way because they have rejected the laws that promise a peaceful existence. This is the overarching sentiment of the Torah. One cannot have peace without the law, just as one cannot have the law without peace.

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