Here is (more or less) the text of this sermon:
In the section of scriptures that the Jewish community reads this week, the story of five women seems nearly an afterthought. Yet, unlike many biblical women, all five are given names, and this is an indication that we should pay close attention. These five women appear only one other time in the five books of Moses, but they bear an important message.
Earlier, the daughters of Tzlophchad (Makhlah, Tirtzah, Khoglah, Milcah, and No‘ah) come before Moses with a complaint. At that point, in Biblical law, only sons can inherit their fathers. The father of these five had had no sons. So the five women went and stood before Moses, before Elazar the priest, before the heads of all the tribes, and before all the community, to point out that this meant that their family’s inheritance would disappear, and they demanded to inherit from their father. Moses heard their cause, and took it to God. And God said to Moses, “The daughters of Tzeophchad speak rightly, give them their father’s inheritance. Furthermore, from now on, the law is changed -and then the passage goes on for a while to explain exactly how the law is to be changed.
In the passage this week in which the daughters of Tzelophchad are mentioned, there is a further clarification of the law, and then they carry out God’s commands, and they get married, and everyone lives happily ever after.
Together, these two passages make up possibly one of the most extraordinary moments in the Torah, in the Five books of Moses – and that’s no small feat. This is, as far as I can recall, the only instance of a regular, everyday person taking a complaint up to the highest levels --and causing an unjust law to be changed –by God, Godself! And not just a regular everyday person, but five women who have no father. This is, biblically, almost the very definition of a powerless person, a person with no one to advocate for them, and so, they advocated for themselves, marching up to the tent of meeting, which is their version of the marble cladded halls of power, and demanding that an unjust law be changed.
And surprisingly, the rabbinic sages approve wholeheartedly. In the code of Jewish law and commentary called the Talmud, one of the most canonical and central of Jewish texts collected over centuries and compiled around the year 500, the rabbis say (bava batra 119b),
בנות צלפחד חכמניות הן דרשניות הן צדקניות הן
“The daughters of Tzelophehad are wise, they are darshaniot – which means something like interpreters of Torah, but also means something like seekers, and they are righteous.”
The rabbis add, “That they are wise can be seen from the fact that they spoke in accordance with the moment.” The great commentator Rashi adds, “Their eyes saw what Moses’ did not. “
The rabbis continue, explaining that we know they are interpreters of Torah – in other words, learned equals of the rabbis- by demonstrating that the women must have been familiar with the law, and brought their claim through logic and argument. And the rabbis conclude that (Sanhedrin 8b): The daughters of Tzelophechad merited that the law be written through them…This is to teach you that punishment is brought about through the sinful, and reward is brought about through the righteous.
Remember the daughters of Tzelophchad, because we’re going to need them in a bit.
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It’s hot outside. It is, in fact, humid, miserable, and oppressive. This period of the summer, for Jews, falls during a three-week period of mourning leading up the saddest day in our calendar, the 9th of the month of Av, the day on which Jerusalem fell and the Temple there was destroyed. This moment of our history turns out to be, in many ways, the defining one of Jewish memory, and a pivotal event in the creation of rabbinic (that is to say, modern) Judaism. So we might want to ask, of the many possible ways to remember this event, how do the sages choose to explain what happened?
In the Talmud, and aso partly in another early text from the same period, a very early commentary (midrash) on the book of Lamentations, the rabbis retell the story of this tragedy: it begins with a party.
A tale is told of one of the wealthy men of Jerusalem who made a banquet, inviting everyone.
This man had a friend, Kamtza, and an enemy, Bar Kamtza. [This wealthy man] made a party and said to his servant, Go and bring Kamtza. The [servant] went and brought Bar Kamtza. When the man [who gave the party] found [Bar Kamtza] there he said, …what are you doing here? Get out. Said [bar Kamtza]: Since I am here, let me stay, and I will pay you for whatever I eat and drink.
[The host] said, I won't. [Bar Kamtza said] Then let me give you half the cost of the party. No, said the [host]. Then let me pay for the whole party [said Bar kamtza]. [The host] still said, No, and he took him by the hand and put him out.
R. Zecharia b. Avqulos, who was capable of protesting, was there, but he didn’t protest. (In Hebrew)
Upon leaving, [bar kamtza] said, “I get thrown out in shame, and let them sit there in peace?!”
Said [bar kamtza to himself], Since the Rabbis were sitting there and did not stop him, this shows that they agreed with him. I will go and inform against them, to the Government.
He went and said to the Emperor, The Jews are rebelling against you. [The Emperor] said, How can I tell? [Bar Kamtza] said to him: Send them an offering and see whether they will offer it [on the altar of the Temple]. So [the Emperor] sent with [bar kamtza] a fine calf. While on the way he made a blemish …on the white of its eye, in a place where [Jews] count it a blemish but the [Romans] do not.
The Rabbis were inclined to offer it in order not to offend the Government. Said Rabbi Zechariah ben Abkulas to them: People will say that blemished animals are offered on the altar [of the Temple – ie. That we do not follow the laws about sacrifices]. They then proposed to kill Bar Kamtza so that he should not go and inform against them, but R. Zechariah b. Abkulas said to them, Is one who makes a blemish on consecrated animals to be put to death? R. Yohanan thereupon remarked: Through the scrupulousness of R. Zechariah b. Abkulas our House has been destroyed, our Temple burnt and we ourselves exiled from our land....
This is … a very peculiar story. Given that the rabbis themselves redacted the Talmud, one would think they might not include this story, which does not put the rabbis in a particularly good light.
But the rabbis clearly felt the need to make this point: that the worst tragedy in our history, which resulted in persecution, famine, and the destruction of the central institution of our religion (at the time) was the result of a very human chain of events in which the leaders of the people turned a blind eye to one man publicly shaming another, followed up by that same set of leaders waffling in their responsibilities to act to protect their people from the malice engendered by their own actions.
In fact, in another section of the Talmud, one of the rabbis says specifically, “Jerusalem was destroyed only because they did not rebuke each other: for it is said, Her princes are become like harts that find no pasture: (Lam. 1:6.) Just as the hart, the head of one is at the side of the others's tail, so Israel of that generation hid their faces in the earth, (i.e. turned their faces away from the evil that the other did) and did not rebuke each other.” (Shabbat 119b)
It seems to me to be a harsh, accurate, reflection on the failings of the leadership of the time. The rabbinic sages had a great deal to say about what a proper leader is. Elsewhere in the Talmud, they call out exactly the situation that seems to have been described in our story. They say, (Shabbat 54b-55a) Whoever can rebuke his household but does not, is held responsible for [the sins of] his household; [if he can rebuke] his fellow citizens, he is held responsible for [the sins of] his fellow citizens; if the whole world, he is held responsible for [the sins of] the whole world.
In other words, as Rabbi Zechariah b. Abkulas stood by and did nothing as a man was shamed, he is held responsible for not only the shaming – which in our tradition is considered comparable to murder – but for the results that followed.
This is possibly the exact opposite of the story of the daughters of Tzelophchad.
They are both stories about the relationship between regular people and people in power:
In the first story, the daughters of Tzelophchad feel wronged. They, through no fault of their own, have been deprived of their land, and they aren’t going to take it sitting down. And they don’t!
The second story is also a story about someone who is wronged, and who decides to do something about it.
In the first instance, the focus seems to be on the women and in the second, it appears to be on the leaders. And we might want to investigate why.
And this is the crux of the matter: in each story, both sides of the wrong have choices to make. As you recall, Tzelophchad’s daughters are lauded by the community, and even by God. They chose to stand up against injustice, and they did it firmly – they didn’t ask, they instructed. And yet, they also clearly made a point of respecting the community they were in to do so, and so they were called wise, insightful and righteous.
Bar Kamtza made a different choice, he reacted to his – very correct- reading of the situation saying that he was going to get revenge against the leaders who failed to stand up for him, but in doing so he rained destruction down on everyone.
But in the case of the five women, they are given credit for doing things the right way, but in Bar Kamtza’s case, his role is nearly ignored, and it is the leaders who are held responsible, nd I believe that the difference did lie in the behavior of the leaders.
Moses listened. He took their criticism to heart, and he acted on it.
This made that event a stirring example not only of the power of common people to stand up for what is right, but of an example of what good leadership looks like.
In contrast, the leaders in Bar Kamtza’s case weren’t malicious, they were perhaps worse – they were apathetic. Rabbi Zechariah ben Abkulous did nothing as Bar Kamtza was humiliated and thrown out. And then together with the other leaders of the community, they failed to take any action at all.
The name for this three week period that Jews are currently observing is “Bein HaMeitzarim” which means “Between the straits.”
It seems to me that we stand here today, as Americans, “between the straits.” We are living in a moment in which our leaders are unwise, and we, the people, have to make choices about how to react to the deep unwisdom which threatens the social order.
We are, I believe, living with leaders far more like Zechariah Ben Avkulous, than like Moses. The daughters of Tzelophchad had the benefit of a leader who could hear their wisdom and insight, and who valued their righteousness. That allowed them to stand before the community and repair what was broken.
And so it leaves us to wonder about what might have been. We know – we can see today – that some people love to blow things up. They want to see the crash. But today, it’s not just the people who are hurting who want this – it seems to be the leaders as well.
What could have happened if Zechariah ben Avkulous stood up at the party and stopped the action, perhaps made peace between Bar Kamtza and his enemy? Perhaps he would have been unsuccessful at that, but at least Bar Kamtza would have seen that someone stood up for him. Perhaps he wouldn’t have then brought destruction upon the entire community.
And so, if our country is filled with bar Kamtzas who are hurt, and want to lash out at everyone, and our leaders are unwise, then, it must fall to us to be aware – to be Tzelophchad’s daughters – wise and insightful and righteous. If there is no Moses to help, then we must go all the way to the top and make sure that the inequity is fixed at its root.
The mystical book the Zohar says, “Rabbi Jose said ‘I was reflecting that the condition of mankind depends entirely on their leaders: when these are worthy, the world and all in it prosper, but when they are unworthy, woe to the world and woe to the people!’ -- Zohar, Sh’mot, Section II, 36b
In the medieval book, the sefer hakuzari, which is a dialogue between a king and a rabbi:
2. The Kuzari said, “Tell me how the upright and pious people of your religion behave.”
3. The Rabbi said, “An upright person is one who is concerned with his country. He provides all its citizens with their every provision and need. He leads them justly, does not oppress any one of them, and does not give to any one of them more than his rightful share ...”
4. The Kuzari said, “I asked you about an upright person, not a leader!”
5. The Rabbi said, “An upright person is a leader. All of his senses and attributes – both
spiritual and physical – submit themselves to his command. He thus leads them just like a real
world leader, as it says, ‘He who rules his spirit is greater than one who captures a city’ (Mishlei/Proverbs 16:32). He has shown that he is fit to govern – that were he to rule over a country, he would preside over it justly, just as he has done with his own body and soul.”
So what do we do when we have no leaders who are worthy? We must act after the model of the daughters of Tzelophchad. We must be righteous and in justice and care for others, we must take our vision to the halls of power, and we must walk before the powerful and not ask, but insist, that the wrongs be righted.
