Know Your Place

According to the Talmud, a wise person is one who knows his place. We have to use our minds to the fullest even as we recognize the limits of our intellect.

The Blasphemer

The end of this week’s parsha relates how a Jewish person blasphemed G-d and the harsh punishment meted out to him for this crime.

The Torah introduces this sad episode with the words:

The son of Israelite woman—who was the son an Egyptian man among the children of Israel—went out and quarreled in the camp with an Israelite man. The son of the Israelite woman pronounced the Divine Name and cursed.

The Midrash (cited by Rashi) focuses on the words “went out” and asks: “From where did he go out?”

The Midrash provides several explanations:

Rabbi Levi said: “He went out of his world.”

Rabbi Berechya said that he came from the focus of the preceding section of the Torah that discusses the special bread placed on the table in the Sanctuary. This bread called Shewbread was placed on the table on the Sabbath and would remain there until the next Sabbath when it would be eaten by the Kohanimpriests. He mocked this and said: “A king should eat warm bread every day. Would he eat a nine day old cold loaf of bread?”

Out of this World!

What is the meaning of Rabbi Levi’s opinion that “he went out of his world?”

The simple understanding is that the fact that a Jew could blaspheme G-d was such an aberration that it was as if he completely left his world; this was not a crime that one could have anticipated would happen to a normal person at that time. This crime was such a departure from the norm that it had to be mentioned as such. Moreover, his radical departure from the norm caused him to leave this world, in the most literal sense of the word—he was executed.

On a deeper level it has been explained that the blasphemer started off by trying to fathom some of the mysteries of G-d that were not intended for him. By going outside of his realm without the tools to understand what he had seen, it caused him to trivialize G-d, which led to his ultimate blasphemous outburst.

There is a precedent to this approach in the Talmud. One of the great Sages of Israel— Elisha ben Avuyah, later nicknamed Acher— sought to understand the mysteries of Kabbalah that were beyond his level. The result was that he became a heretic and rebelled against G-d and Judaism.

This approach is echoed in the oft cited Talmudic quote: “Who is a wise person? One who knows his place.” We have to know our limitations.

Of course, we may and ought to strive to reach higher levels, but we should never forget who we are and what are our capabilities. And perhaps even more importantly, when we come across something about G-d that we don’t understand, we must humbly realize our human limitations.

The blasphemer in this week’s parsha clearly lacked that knowledge of who he was and the parameters of his world of knowledge.

The second opinion that he “went out” of the discussion concerning the bread that was placed on the table also requires further explanation. Why would he doubt G-d’s ability to keep the bread warm for nine days, which is, in fact, what happened for centuries when this bread was baked in the Temple in Jerusalem. Furthermore, while he might have had a good question about G-d’s instructions concerning this bread, why would he go to the extreme of cursing G-d?

Two Rituals; Two Parallel Functions

One answer to this question is that the Torah in the preceding section discusses two parallel functions of the Sanctuary: the lighting of the Menorah and the placing of the bread on the table.

In the mind of the blasphemer, these two rituals represented two distinct ways G-d relates to us. G-d is our source of light and spiritual inspiration and G-d is our breadwinner, who provides for all of our material needs.

In the mind of the blasphemer these two functions of the Temple should have manifested themselves in totally different ways.

When G-d revealed His presence through the Menorah, it was expected that it would me miraculous. After all, the Menorah was an expression of G-d’s infinite power and light. The Menorah was the symbol of G-d spiritual energy that obviously transcends nature.

However, when G-d expressed Himself through the bread that was placed on the table in the Sanctuary, in the blasphemers mind, it had to be a completely natural process. To override the laws of nature and to have hot bread for nine days—without a natural source of heat—was, in his mind, not a physical impossibility but a theological impossibility.

While he certainly recognized G-d’s ability to do miracles, he also felt that it was theologically untenable that miracles would encroach on natural territory.

To be sure, he had witnessed many of the miracles that G-d wrought in Egypt and even the Manna from heaven, but those miracles were the exceptions that prove the rule. They were needed to save the Jewish nation from being killed or enslaved by the Egyptians and providing them with their sustenance in the desolate desert so they do not die of starvation. But as general rule, he reasoned, “G-d does not play dice with His universe.”

He further reasoned that since the table of bread was the symbol of the routine way G-d provides us with our needs, it ought not to be unduly influenced by supernatural forces. And barring Divine intervention he reasoned, the bread would be cold, and that would be disrespectful. Inevitably, there would have to be a miracle, and this is what caused him to blaspheme.

When he saw how G-d “violated” his preconceived conception of how G-d should relate to the natural processes of the world, he was irate because it went against his theology. So he cursed the name of G-d.

The name the Blasphemer had a Problem with

The name that he cursed is known in Hebrew as Havaye, also known as the Tetragrammaton. This name combines past, present and future and is therefore identified as G-d’s essential name that transcends the natural order that is limited by time and space. Hence, he cursed this name specifically because he felt that it was “wrong” for G-d to override what he felt were the inviolate norms of nature.

Judaism is filled with notions that we can easily relate to. But there are an equal number of items that go against our intuitive feelings.

What we do When we Come to a Theological Impasse

The lesson from the blasphemer is that when we come to a theological impasse, we do not express anger at G-d because He does not fit into our puny minds and frames of reference, but we humbly accept the fact that G-d transcends us and does not always fit into our finite minds. Indeed, we should be surprised and grateful that we can have some small measure of understanding G-d and His ways.

The Exception

There is a partial exception to the rule. When we see suffering, we have a right, nay an obligation, to come before G-d and demand: why? Why have you not yet brought Moshiach to usher in the promised and long overdue Messianic Age of peace?

But even when we make these demands they are always predicated on the notion that G-d wants us to make those demands of Him and not that we have a right to G-d forbid lose our respect for and faith in Him.

The blasphemer would have been standing on solid ground if he had humbly asked G-d to provide him with greater knowledge and understanding of His ways as did Moses, for which he was not rebuked. When he crossed the line, “left his world,” and started to blaspheme G-d because G-d did not conform to him, it was then that he lost his world.

When we cry out to G-d, “ad masai-how much longer do we have to endure exile,” we must not just pay lip-service to it, but say it with all our heart and soul. But simultaneously, we surrender ourselves to G-d’s will in ways that go beyond our understanding; with even greater dedication to His Torah and Mitzvos.

From the book Light from the Future: Parshas Emor by Rabbi Heschel Greenberg, published by the Jewish Discovery Center.