What's in a name?

Parashat Shemot, the weekly Torah portion that opens the book of Exodus, describes the transformation of the Children of Israel from a family, as they were at the end of Genesis, into a nation.

We also see the birth, quite literally, of the first Jewish leader, Moshe Rabbeinu. Indeed, the Torah presents him as the very archetype of what a leader should be - certainly not without flaw (no Biblical characters are), but absolutely without peer. He is the only individual in all of Tana"kh to wield all Biblical forms of leadership: political, judicial, priestly, and prophetic. And, while his successor Joshua is without a doubt great in his own right, the Torah ends on a wistful note, implicitly sighing, "If only Moshe had been the one to lead us into the Promised Land!"

What can we then glean, from the narrative of his early life, about the character of this man destined to become the paradigmatic leader?

A fundamental lesson can be seen in an apparently small detail - his name. He is named "Moshe" by Pharaoh's daughter when he is returned to her after being weaned (his own mother having clandestinely served as his hired wet-nurse). What had he been called before that point? The Torah says nothing - the only name relevant to its narrative is just this one, "Moshe". In fact, the Yalkut Shimoni states that he had many other names, and yet he is referred throughout Tana"kh only as "Moshe", the name given to him by his Egyptian foster mother. This name is clearly of great significance.

The Torah tells us that she gave him this name because, as she says on naming him, "I have drawn him out of the water" - כִּי מִן-הַמַּיִם מְשִׁיתִהוּ. The name Moshe derives from the Hebrew root מ.ש.ה meaning to draw something out of the water, and so memorializes for the rest of his life the fact that he was saved by the princess' hand.

Yet, as R. S. R. Hirsch points out, the grammar is wrong. If the name was to mean "The one who was drawn from the water," it should have been "Mashui" (משוי). The name "Moshe" (משה), by contrast, means "One who draws out of water."  By naming him Moshe, Pharaoh's daughter is charging him with a mission, saying, "I drew you out of water. Now grow up and be someone who will draw others out of water!" This charge of hers propelled him to leadership, and is key to understanding the Torah's view of what true greatness is.

She tells him, in effect, "You were saved from a dangerous and traumatic situation. Do not view yourself as a victim, as helpless. Use this experience to help others. Let your memory of salvation guide you to save others. You were afraid, so be sensitive to the fear of others. You were in pain, alleviate the pain of others. You were in danger, save others. You felt threatened, protect others."

Pharaoh's daughter teaches this infant, through his very name, how to have an Existence of Destiny, in R. Joseph Soloveitchik's formulation - how to respond to suffering not with "Why do I suffer?" but with "What do I do with my suffering?" By reorienting himself thusly, the victim becomes the hero.

Such heroism as a response to trauma is the character of the Torah's archetypal leader, Moshe.

There never was, nor ever will be a leader as great as Moshe. However, we are, all of us, capable of following a similar path. Of taking our suffering, our fears, our pain, whether great or small, and using them as an impetus, and as a teacher, to help others. In this way, we can redeem our own suffering, and also bring a measure of redemption to the world.

Abominations come in threes

I recently wrote about how the commandment forbidding keeping dishonest weights or measures (Deut. 25:13-16) is one of only three places in the Torah where an individual is termed "an abomination to God" (תועבת ה׳). In this post I'd like to explore what may connect these three rare instances of enormous opprobrium.

The first place we see this is in Deuteronomy 18:10:

לֹא-יִמָּצֵא בְךָ, מַעֲבִיר בְּנוֹ-וּבִתּוֹ בָּאֵשׁ, קֹסֵם קְסָמִים, מְעוֹנֵן וּמְנַחֵשׁ וּמְכַשֵּׁף. וְחֹבֵר, חָבֶר; וְשֹׁאֵל אוֹב וְיִדְּעֹנִי, וְדֹרֵשׁ אֶל-הַמֵּתִים. כִּי-תוֹעֲבַת יְהוָה, כָּל-עֹשֵׂה אֵלֶּה; וּבִגְלַל, הַתּוֹעֵבֹת הָאֵלֶּה, יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ, מוֹרִישׁ אוֹתָם מִפָּנֶיךָ.

There shall not be among you those who pass their children through fire, a diviner, soothsayer, fortuneteller, sorcerer, demon summoner, one who consults ghosts or familiar spirits, or a necromancer. For anyone who do these is an abomination to God, and it is because of these abominations that the Lord your God is removing them [the Canaanites] from before you.

The second is in Deuteronomy 22:5:

לֹא-יִהְיֶה כְלִי-גֶבֶר עַל-אִשָּׁה, וְלֹא-יִלְבַּשׁ גֶּבֶר שִׂמְלַת אִשָּׁה: כִּי תוֹעֲבַת יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ, כָּל-עֹשֵׂה אֵלֶּה.

A woman may not wear a man's thing, nor shall a man wear a woman's garment, for anyone who does this is an abomination to the Lord your God.

And the third is in Deuteronomy 25:13-16, as aforementioned:

לֹא-יִהְיֶה לְךָ בְּכִיסְךָ, אֶבֶן וָאָבֶן:   גְּדוֹלָה, וּקְטַנָּה.

לֹא-יִהְיֶה לְךָ בְּבֵיתְךָ, אֵיפָה וְאֵיפָה:   גְּדוֹלָה, וּקְטַנָּה.

אֶבֶן שְׁלֵמָה וָצֶדֶק יִהְיֶה-לָּךְ, אֵיפָה שְׁלֵמָה וָצֶדֶק יִהְיֶה-לָּךְ - לְמַעַן, יַאֲרִיכוּ יָמֶיךָ, עַל הָאֲדָמָה, אֲשֶׁר-יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ נֹתֵן לָךְ.

כִּי תוֹעֲבַת יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ, כָּל-עֹשֵׂה אֵלֶּה:   כֹּל, עֹשֵׂה עָוֶל.

Do not keep multiple weights for yourself in your pocket, large and small. Do not keep multiple measures for yourself in your house, large and small. You must have a complete and just weight; you must have a complete and just measure - so that you may live long in the land which the Lord your God is giving you. For anyone who does such things, anyone who does injustice, is an abomination to the Lord your God.

Is there some common thread that connects these three seemingly very different commandments which all share this rare level of divine reproach? I believe that there is - a thread twisted from two strands.

First, the fact that there are precisely three of these personally abominated activities is reminiscent of the three supreme prohibitions, for which one is obligated to give up one's life, viz.: idolatry, murder, and sexual immorality. There is a simple and plausible parallel:

Big Three	Person is an Abomination
Idolatry	Divination and necromancy
Murder	Keeping dishonest weights and measures
Sexual immorality	Crossdressing

These three are the ultimate exemplars of the three general categories of transgressions: against God (idolatry), against one's fellow (murder), and against one's self (sexual immorality). Similarly here we have a sin against God - seeking guidance from soothsayers and necromancers in his place; a sin against one's fellow - keeping equipment to secretly cheat in business; and a sin against oneself - cross-dressing (by analogy to the clearly related sexual sins).

Second, in a previous post discussing the prohibition of keeping dishonest weights and measures, I suggested that the reason that the person who keeps dishonest weights or measures is an abomination, and not just the action, or the objects, is that while simply keeping something in one's house seems quite harmless, whereas what the Torah is teaching us is that in fact it is pernicious and can lead over time to a total transformation of one's personality.

In each of these three cases, the action involved is one that, on the surface, seems entirely harmless. Do you think that if I (a man) put on a skirt that I'll immediately run out and join an orgy? Crazy talk. Or that getting my fortune told will cause me to go and sacrifice a goat to Baal? Ridiculous!

And yet, what we do has a subtle influence on how we think and how we view the world. Someone who keeps dishonest weights will come to see nothing wrong with having them, and then nothing wrong with using them, and will slowly and imperceptibly lose sight of the humanity of his fellows. Occasional crossdressing will become habitual and will lead, over time, to losing respect and sensitivity for sexual boundaries of all kinds. And playing with occult rituals will lead to a blurring and eventual obliteration of one's spiritual fealty to God, and so to idol worship (in spirit, if not in deed).

One must always remember that what we do creates who we will be, and thus not to mock the influence on us of actions that are seemingly trivial and harmless in themselves. It is through our habits that we become either great, or slowly, imperceptibly into abominations.

Who is an abomination?

The second-to-last mitsva in Parashat Ki Tetse reads as follows:

לֹא-יִהְיֶה לְךָ בְּכִיסְךָ, אֶבֶן וָאָבֶן:   גְּדוֹלָה, וּקְטַנָּה.

לֹא-יִהְיֶה לְךָ בְּבֵיתְךָ, אֵיפָה וְאֵיפָה:   גְּדוֹלָה, וּקְטַנָּה.

אֶבֶן שְׁלֵמָה וָצֶדֶק יִהְיֶה-לָּךְ, אֵיפָה שְׁלֵמָה וָצֶדֶק יִהְיֶה-לָּךְ - לְמַעַן, יַאֲרִיכוּ יָמֶיךָ, עַל הָאֲדָמָה, אֲשֶׁר-יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ נֹתֵן לָךְ.

כִּי תוֹעֲבַת יְהוָה אֱלֹהֶיךָ, כָּל-עֹשֵׂה אֵלֶּה:   כֹּל, עֹשֵׂה עָוֶל.

Do not keep multiple weights for yourself in your pocket, large and small. Do not keep multiple measures for yourself in your house, large and small. You must have a complete and just weight; you must have a complete and just measure - so that you may live long in the land which the Lord your God is giving you. For anyone who does such things, anyone who does injustice, is an abomination to God.

On its face, this is a straightforward commandment: Be honest in your business dealings. Do not use a large weight or measure with which to buy merchandise and so cheat your suppliers, while using a smaller weight or measure to sell merchandise, cheating your customers. It is indeed striking that such practices are, like the paramount sin of idolatry, termed here as an "abomination to God," one of the strongest forms of opprobrium in the Torah.  This in itself draws our attention and demands our consideration as a powerful and timely lesson to those who wish to fulfill God's will.

And yet there are two oddities in this passage that demand further explanation, and which, I believe, teach us an even greater and more far-reaching lesson.

First, rather than state the prohibition simply, "Do not use dishonest weights and measures," the Torah uses what seems at first to be an oddly idiomatic phrasing - "Do not keep ... in your pocket; Do not keep ... in your house." Why?

Second, while the term תועבה, "abomination" appears quite a few times in the Torah, it nearly always applies to either an action or an object, rather than a person. This passage is one of only three places in the Torah where a person is called an "abomination to God." (The other two are Deuteronomy 18:12 and 22:5, about which more another time.)  Why is this particular violation, as important as it is, singled out, such that the person who engages in it becomes him/herself an abomination to God?

I believe that the key to answering the second question is given by answering the first. The phrasing of "Do not keep ... in your pocket" indicates that this passage does not forbid dealing unfairly in business, but rather it prohibits just keeping the tools for doing so even if you do not use them (a fortiori, if you use them).

But why?

One who does so may think that they are doing nothing wrong. After all, one could say, I'm not actually using them! But by having them around, one is keeping the possibility of using them open. And this secret knowledge is pernicious. The person may not at first use them, but eventually will do so, but only in times of (so he thinks) of great need. Slowly his mindset will change, and the very wrongness of dealing dishonestly, of secretly cheating others, will not seem so very wrong, will, in fact, seem to be the natural order of being. Indeed, the one who keeps these dishonest weights and measures will likely come to assume that everyone else does as well, normalizing, in his mind, the dishonesty and the theft.

Thus, by keeping these seemingly harmless possessions, a person will inexorably be transformed into an inherently dishonest creature who is, the passage explains, an abomination to God.

The act of keeping these weights or measures is not, in itself, terribly problematic. But the inevitable psychological and spiritual effects on the keeper are. The verse warns us to take great care not to put ourselves into situations that will exert small but inexorable pressures upon our personality so that, like the proverbial frog in boiling water, we ourselves become abominable without ever noticing.

This principle applies not just in the realm of business. One must take great care to choose one's mentors, friends, and neighbors carefully (to the extent possible), to maximize positive, and minimize negative, influences. What we read or watch also has subtle, but significant influence on who we are. Indeed, every decision we make, every experience we seek out, influences the person that we become.

Even a decision as small as keeping a couple of dishonest measuring cups in a back cupboard.

Miketz: The Road to Serfdom

Parshat Miketz, which nearly always falls on Chanuka, the festival of religious freedom, also powerfully describes the fragility of economic and political freedom. 

Yosef, the newly appointed Prime Minister of Egypt, institutes a series of severe political and economic changes in response to the looming crisis of famine--higher taxes, export restrictions, and governmental regulation of internal agricultural commerce (cf. R. Hirsch on Gen. 41:48).  Further, when the crisis finally struck, the stores of grain were sold back to the people, enriching Pharaoh (Gen. 41:56); eventually, the people were forced to sell themselves into servitude to Pharaoh to survive (Gen. 47:25).

Now all of this can certainly be understood as the necessary response of government to an existential national crisis.  However, the key to understanding the full import of this story lies in next week's parsha, Vayigash, where it states (Gen. 47:26): And Yosef established a one-fifth fee on all Egypt's land as law unto this day; only the priests' land was not taken by Pharaoh.  The famine was over, the crisis successfully navigated, the country (and government) saved.  Yet the regulation and governmental machinery developed during the response to the crisis remained. The response of government to an existential environmental crisis was to ultimately enslave the people even as it saved their lives.

We are shown, thus, the risk to political freedom that loss of economic freedom ultimately entails. This can be contrasted with the ideal described by the prophets of each man under his own vine and fig tree, living in economic and political freedom.

The Torah warns in Parshat Miketz of one possible avenue for man's natural liberty to be taken from him without a fight--the route of national crisis.  The midrash (Yalkut Shimoni) in Parshat Shemot describes another road to serfdom, that of good intentions.  The midrash describes how Pharaoh got the Jews to willingly become his slaves--he appealed to their sense of civic pride, their desire to help society.  Pharaoh himself started digging and laying bricks, so of course the Jews rushed to help with the work.  Once this became the norm, however, that norm was enforced with increasingly harsh discipline.

The Torah warns us, therefore, of two paths that the statist may seek to lead us down the road to serfdom - the Road of National Crisis and the Road of Good Intentions.  While certain measures may be necessary in the short term, we must always be wary of what governmental powers we may thereby accept for the long term.

Balak 5773

In the first verse of this past week's haftara, the prophet Micha says in the name of Gd, "And the remnant of Yaakov shall be in the midst of many nations, as dew [טל] from Gd, like strong rain [רביבים] upon the grass, that shall not place hope in a man nor have expectation from the sons of men."

Through this somewhat opaque metaphor, I believe, Micha is giving us a view of what the Jewish people will be or should be like during the time of the Exile, scattered around the earth, living among the various nations of the world.

The parallelism of "dew" and "strong rain" is reminiscent of Moshe's words in Parshat HaAzinu, where he proclaims that his words should "drip as dew" and fall as "strong rain upon the grass". There, Rashi explains that "dew" is a type of precipitation that everyone is happy with [הכל שמחים בו], since it disturbs no one and only brings benefits, and that "strong rain" [רביבים] means rain that goes straight towards its target, like an arrow from a bow [רובה קשת].

In this way, the prophet gives us guideposts for how we should behave among the "many nations." First and foremost, we should behave as "dew from Gd" - in a way in which "everyone is happy with."  The way we live should make people of all nations happy that Jews are living among them. At the same time, we must keep our eyes on the target like רביבים, knowing that we are on a mission from Gd, and should not be tempted from that mission by the promises of men.

We must remain distinctively committed to fulfilling Gd's mission in this world, to be a light to the nations, a mission that we can only achieve by living and acting in a way in which הכל שמחים בו, that is considerate and kind to all.