This week’s Parashat Hashavua of Shoftim contains within it one the most fascinating and enigmatic sections found in the Torah. It reads as follows:
“If, in the land that the LORD your God is assigning you to possess, someone slain is found lying in the open, the identity of the slayer not being known, your elders and magistrates (judges) shall go out and measure the distances from the corpse to the nearby towns. The elders of the town nearest to the corpse shall then take a heifer which has never been worked, which has never pulled in a yoke; and the elders of that town shall bring the heifer down to an ever flowing wadi, which is not tilled or sown. There, in the wadi, they shall break the heifer’s neck. The priests, sons of Levi, shall come forward; for the LORD your God has chosen them to minister to Him and to pronounce blessing in the name of the LORD, and every lawsuit and case of assault is subject to their ruling. Then all the elders of the town nearest to the corpse shall wash their hands over the heifer whose neck was broken in the wadi. And they shall make this declaration: “Our hands did not shed this blood, nor did our eyes see it done. Absolve, O LORD, Your people Israel whom You redeemed, and do not let guilt for the blood of the innocent remain among Your people Israel.” And they will be absolved of bloodguilt. Thus you will remove from your midst guilt for the blood of the innocent, for you will be doing what is right in the sight of the LORD.” (Devarim 21:1-9)
The late Rabbi Jacob Milgrom, a graduate of the Conservative Movement’s Rabbinical School at the Jewish Theological Seminary who spent the majority of his career as a Professor of Bible at UC Berkeley, in his extraordinarily erudite commentary to the Book of Devarim, points out that the above section, found at the very end of our Parashah, seems to be somewhat fragmented and opaque. Who exactly is in charge here? Who decides how to address the finding of an abandoned corpse strewn in a field? The elders of the neighboring towns, the magistrates (judges), the Priests, the sons of Levi, or some combination thereof?
Professor Milgrom seizes on this apparent textual murkiness to posit – based on a nuanced linguistic analysis of the passage, along with his far reaching knowledge of the religions of the ancient Near East - that the highly superstitious rituals described in this section of our Torah, replete with an obvious deference to, and acceptance of, the pagan proclivity for “sympathetic magic” (the breaking of the neck of the heifer as recompense for the loss of human life), come to teach us something important about the revolutionary nature of the religion first crafted by our ancient Israelite forebearers, reworked by our later Rabbinic Sages, and which we practice to this very day.
Though the entire section likely has its roots in the cultures that predated Israelite religion, we would be wise to note that in the final analysis, it is the easily overlooked verbal articulation of the Kohanim, the Levitical Priests, found in the midst of the Torah’s description of the events, that makes the ritual efficacious. Without their presence, participation and imprimatur, and in particular their verbal prayerful utterances, the entire ceremony, though colorful and captivating, would simply be a return to the folkways of those societies and traditions that gave birth to our people and which our ancestors wished to polemicize against, to utterly reject. And it was Rabbinic Judaism’s radical and revolutionary claim that heartfelt words of prayer not only serve as a substitute for bloody rituals, but are much preferred by the Almighty.
This new Rabbinic formulation ultimately enables us to transcend the ways of the past and serve as the promulgators of a new paradigm of spiritual connectedness; highly rational and unabashedly demythologized ethical monotheism. And yet, as Dr. Milgrom himself notes in a brilliant excursus (additional clarifying notes) found at the back of his commentary to the Book of Devarim, despite the Rabbis’ railing against paganism and their clear yearning to make a clean-break with the past, our Holy Writ and the Judaism we practice to this very day, still contain vestiges of the ways of the nations from which they hoped to distance themselves. Think for example of the rituals in which we will soon engage as part of the High Holy Day season – Tashlich (Casting Off of our Sins) and Kapparot (Transferring of our Transgressions). Each, without question, finds its origin in the ways of a bygone era.
So how might we make peace with our reluctance to utterly rid ourselves of the ways of the pagans despite the urging of our venerated Rabbis to do so? Our wise Tradition understands that meaningful service of the Almighty must incorporate both our minds and our hearts, our intellect and our spirit. Making room for embodied rituals, regardless of their origin, even those that may have emerged from our pagan past, must be integrated because they move rituals from merely the realm of the “mind” to incorporating the “spirit” as well. And it is precisely this creative synthesis that will enable Jewish practice to remain attractive to Jews in every era and epoch. By infusing long standing rituals with new “Contemporary Jewified” understandings and meanings, Judaism will speak boldly to the “whole person”. We would be wise to not only appreciate this historical truism noted by Professor Milgrom, but also strive to incorporate “head and heart” into our day to day lives and practices. And in this way, ensure that our service of God remains palatable and powerful – for us, our children, and all the generations yet to come. I invite you to join me in this much needed quest for synthesis and integration.
Shabbat Shalom! And may it be a Shabbes that fills all parts of who we are! Amen!
Rabbi Carnie Shalom Rose
ravroseba@bnaiamoona.com
314-576-9990 x105
