May 15th: Behar-Bechukotai
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
In the world of visionary statements, there are always interesting encounters between the dreams and the attempts to bring them to fruition. Sometimes, our most noble ideas turn out to be aspirational rather than actionable.
A few examples can be found in America’s founding philosophy. When Thomas Jefferson wrote that “All men are created equal,” was he speaking a current truth or an ambitious goal? When the First Amendment insists that “Congress shall make no law...abridging the freedom of speech,” was that an absolute rule or an aspiration that needs reasonable adjustments?
The history of our country’s grappling with human and civil rights shows that Jefferson’s aspiration was not immediate. Indeed, we are still working on this vision. And, as for freedom of speech, everyone accepts the general principle, but there has been wrangling over the particulars from the very beginning. Very few jurists have agreed with Justice Hugo Black who insisted that “no laws...abridging the freedom of speech” means no abridgments at all. None! Instead, the general consensus has been that “no abridging” means “very little abridging, and only with good reason.”
One can find a similar disconnect or point of encounter between the idyllic views of communism and the practical and ideological failures of every communist government. It is one thing to say that everyone should do his/her share and that resources should be divided fairly, but the practical reality of different attitudes and desires inevitably interferes with the smooth operation of the utopian ideal.
And, relevant to American Jewish history, there was the utopian dream of Edward James Oglethorpe. He was sent by King George to found a colony to defend the thriving settlement at Charleston. In his charter, three evils were banned from the colony: lawyers, slaves, and Jews. The first exception came within six months when a swamp fever killed the only doctor and a boatload of refugee Jews begged for admission. Fortunately, Dr. Samuel Nunez was on board, and he negotiated the admission of his fellow Jewish passengers in exchange for his medical services. It was not long before the “dream” faded: lawyers and slaves came to Savannah, too.
My musings are not to denigrate utopian visions but to reflect upon their value as symbols more than as plans.
Such thinking comes up when we consider this week’s Torah portion and its utopian visions of both the Sabbatical Year (Sh’mitah) and the Jubilee (Yovel). Every seven years, God commands, there is to be a sabbath of the land. Then, every fifty years—after seven cycles of Sabbatical Years, there is to be a Jubilee—in Hebrew Yovel. “You shall count off seven weeks of years—seven times seven years—so that the period of seven weeks of years gives you a total of forty-nine years. Then you shall sound the shofar loud...to hallow the fiftieth year. You shall proclaim release throughout the land for all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you: each of you shall return to his holding and each of you shall return to his family.” (Leviticus 25.8-10) The theory was that, in that fiftieth year, all real estate deals were nullified, and every Israelite would return to the homestead assigned by Moses to his ancestors (circa 1200 BCE).
It is one thing to insist that the land lie fallow every seven years, but one wonders about people really being willing to call off all land deals. The Torah anticipates these concerns and insists that, once everyone buys into the system, real estate transactions will be treated more like long-term leases rather than actual purchases. However, many scholars wonder if the Jubilee was ever actually done—if it was more a utopian dream rather than a historical reality.
As I read these chapters—and the other passages anticipating concerns and assuaging them, I am reminded of other similar documents—among them Der Judenstaat, Theodor Herzl’s proposal for a Jewish State. Though we usually focus on his idea of Zionism, Herzl spends more time in the pamphlet on his idyllic notion of the way a country and society should be run. He describes a socialistic system with appropriate representation and policies, and a modern observer is struck at how much of what he writes was thrown out as the Zionist polity was carved out of 20th Century realities in Ottoman and later British Mandated Palestine.
I do not think that Herzl was in any way repudiated; indeed, his dream was brought to fruition. However, as with all visionaries, there is a tendency to over-function, and, the actual builders of the State had to find their own way.
What is the value of studying and praying over such utopian texts? It is to fill ourselves with the hopes and aspirations they entertain. When the writers of the Torah present their utopian vision of Sabbatical and Jubilee Years, it is less about prescribing a plan of action and more about suggesting an attitude: the Land belongs to God—as do the world and life itself. “The Land is Mine; you are but strangers resident with Me.” This awareness is the key to living life with meaning and security.
As Pierre Teilhard de Chardin explained, we are spiritual beings temporarily experiencing physical existence. We need to pay attention to the physical world, but the spiritual path of nobility and holiness is our real purpose—and our ultimate fate.
“May we be Your hands in the world, bringing the blessings of heaven to all the earth.”