Social Foundations of Education and Media

This first weekend of Summer 2007, we read several tantalizing stories on the voyage from Egypt to the promised land in a portion known at Hukkat – statue (Number XIX-XXII, 1).  The third that we will read in our synagogue in Willimantic starts with the death of Aaron, the high priest and brother of Moses.  Earlier in the portion, Miriam, the prophetess and their sister, died and there was no more water for the tribes to drink.  The Lord commanded Moses and Aaron to speak to a rock to quench the thirst of the rebels.  Instead Moses hit the rock in anger and without praising the Lord.  His punishment, and Aaron’s, would be that they would not be allowed to enter the promised land.  Soon after, Aaron “was gathered unto his people.”  Moses and Aaron’s son, Eleazar, took Aaron up mount Hor, stripped him of his garments and had Eleazar dress as the high priest, and “Aaron died on the top of the mount.”

This week approved magic, mystical symbols and connections are discussed; among them – the passing of the high priest garments, the connection of the death of Miriam to the lack of water at Kadesh, the portion’s earlier discussion of the red heifer and its distillation into ashes as powder that would take away impurities, and Moses’ creation of a brass serpent to ward off illness from snake bites.  If the mystical is not done as required, if one does not follow the procedures, then the results may be dangerous.  Symbolism may be more important than results.

The portion we will read relates the initial conquests of place on the east side of the Jordan River, on the high plateau and steppes of the Moab region east of the Dead Sea.  The people of Edom, the Redlands, would not allow the Israelites to travel across their borders.  Pushed away, “Israel vowed a vow” to the Lord to “utterly destroy” the cities of other Canaanites if they were not able to pass through their regions.  The portion includes songs of place and conquest from a “book of the Wars of the Lord.”  The conquest of land by these former slaves is disturbing from the comforts of someone who lives away from war.  We yet live in a world where military might is not used for problem-solving.  Were the deaths worth the price of the conquest of place?  Might symbolism, songs, and poetry had be used to change the relationships between the peoples?

The extra reading, the haftorah, introduces Jephthah the Gileadite, one of the “judges” or tribal leaders, between the early days of conquest of Canaan and the rise of kings in Israel.   Jephthah was shun by his family for he was the son of another woman, not the son of the lawful wife.  He joined with other outcasts in the land of Tov (Good).  When the Ammonites made war on Israel, his brothers came to recruit him as their leader against the enemy.  He agreed as long as he would be their head after the successful battle.  In his negotiations with the Ammonites before the battle, Jephthah send a history lesson on the capture of land by the Israelites described in the Torah portion and asked why Ammon wanted to recover land in which Israel had dwelt for over 300 years.  This reminds one of the land claims that still go on by warring borders, not only in the MidEast.  Might there be another way to solve disputes that rest on history? 

The reading ends with Jephthah vowing to the Lord that if they are victorious in battle, he would offer up as a burnt-offering whatsoever comes forth from the doors of his house to meet him when he returns.  We learn that they are victorious but the reading ends without the rest of the story; that the first thing from Jephthah’s door was his daughter.  This sacrifice of his daughter is puzzling for us; we wonder why he made such a vow, whether it parallels stories in Homer about pleasing the gods with human sacrifices.  It seems out of place.  Yet, it might be here to remind that war does require the sacrifice of the young and to raise the question about whether it is worth the losses.

Rav Jeremy will also be leading a discussion of the poetry of Dan Pagis this morning.  Professor Pagis of Hebrew University was a Holocaust survivor who came to Palestine in 1946, after an early adolescence in the camps.  We will be reading his Bestiary poems, poems of animals, balloons, and bipeds and their struggles with age and life. 

The week for me was one of planning – advising probationary students on the courses they might take in the fall, planning for our summer institute for future teachers, for the Fulbright exchange with a professor at Chiang Mai University in Thailand.  We decided on the date when our daughter will become a bat mitzvah – on next year’s summer solstices.  I learned again that there is magic in life, but it does follow rules that we might not understand.  I continue to marvel at the orderly passage of time – that the young grow, the old, if fortunate, fade slowly away within the love of their families.  I wondered whether place – land or position in a family – are things worth the shedding of blood.  And I studied that even from the depths of despair, flowers, poems, and songs may arise.

This week, we read about the struggle for privilege (Numbers XVI-XVIII).  Korah, of the tribe of Levi, already the ruling class of priests and Tabernacle servants, and two from the tribe of Reuben, the oldest son and by rights who be the among the ruling class, formed a discussion group.  They then demanded of Moses and Aaron why they made themselves the princes of the community, when the whole congregation was to be considered holy.  In response, Moses created a contest that would be decided by the Lord – Korah and his followers would bring their censers, their fire-pans, and the Lord would decide who would be the leaders. Moses reminded Korah that he already had a place of privilege in the community.  Moses asked the sons of Reuben why they are not satisfied, he had never taken even one ass from them. 

At the showdown, Korah and those that still stood with him, and their families and possessions were swallowed up by the ground and their fire-pans were melted and later used to cover the altar.  The people ran in fear from the scene, but on the next day, demanded to know why Moses and Aaron had killed the people of the Lord.  The Lord sent a plague that was stopped when Aaron intervened using fire pans.  Still the remaining people needed another sign.  The Lord asked that each tribe place a rod at the tent of meeting.  The rod of the chosen man, tribe, would bud.  Aaron’s rod, representing the house of Levi, was the only rod to bud, bloomed blossoms, and bore ripe almonds.

 The reading continues with the Lord telling Aaron about the privileges and duties of his family as priests.  They were to be landless, that their portion in life would come from being the Lord’s special group and from the offerings brought by others.  

Since yesterday was a new moon, we read a special reading from Isaiah (LXVI) that closes  

“And it shall come to pass, That from one new moon to another, And from one sabbath to another, Shall all flesh come to worship before Me, Saith the Lord.”

The reading discusses the benefits and privileges of being believers and the destruction that comes with those who rebel against the Lord.  Verses 7-9 includes a statement on nation-building, asking if “a land is born in one day? Is a nation brought forth at once? For as soon as Zion travailled, She brought forth her children.”

Korah and the rebels, b’nai mari, the children of rebellion, were frustrated by not having the privileges of leadership.  Mari may be a word connected to bitterness, frustration.  By chance of birth, by effort, by just luck, people get into situation when they are seen to be privileged, having more than others, by others.  One may enjoy the lot that she/he has received or strive for more.  Often, this struggle for more comes with the demand to those seen to be more privileged to share more. 

We have privileged lives here in Willimantic.  We are generally not affected by random acts of violence or theft.  We have more than enough to eat and a home that shelters us in the cold of winter and the heat of summer.  My family presented me with a hammock for my birthday and father’s day so that I might rest more in our garden. 

I am very much aware of our privileges in life, gotten from effort but mostly from luck.  Do we share enough with others?  What more can we do to share our bounty?  How might we help others who want more of a share of a peaceful, plentiful life?  How might we learn to be content with all that we have and not strive for more, if it would bring pain to others? 

The new moon of summer is arriving.  The days continue to lengthen and the earth continues to gather the warmth of the sun and the occasional rains of passing storms.  On my 55th birthday, I am thankful for all that I have and mindful that others should also have lives of contentment and not struggle.  That is my task – to learn to share and to point the way to others so that they might also be contented with all that they have.

Today is the 42nd anniversary of when I became a man – a bar mitzvah – son of the commandment.  Forty-two years ago or so, given the variances of a lunar and solar calendar – this week’s Torah reading – Shelach Lecha  (Numbers chapters XIII – XV)- “send to you” men who might spy out the land of Canaan – was read on the 24 of Sivan 5725, the 24th day of June 1965, St. John the Baptiste day for the Quebecois.  The Bible reading (Joshua II, 1-24) describes two spies hiding on the roof-top in Jericho, saved by an “inn-keeper” named Rahav from the king’s men so that they might return to tell Joshua of their intel on the land.

Bar mitzvah boys in 1965 in Oceanside, NY did the Torah blessings and read the Bible reading (Haftorah).  The day of my bar mitzvah celebration, there were two other boys with me.  I did the Torah blessing and chanted the second half of the Haftorah (Joshua II, 13-24) and then led the singing of Adom Olam to the tune of Fernando’s Hideaway from the Broadway show, the Pajama Game.  Before walking home for a family gathering, we joined in the synagogue kiddush. 

My mother had died a bit more than two years before and we were a depressed family.  My father organized a family gathering at our home and we enjoyed our backyard and being with family.  This family gathering style of simple celebration was in contrast to the social hall receptions, with dancing to the Alley Cat, early Beatles music, and too much food, that was more common then and now.  The family at home style we have used with our sons and probably will be much of the style for our celebration of Fay’s becoming a bat mitzvah next year.  We might have an evening celebration at the synagogue.  Fay has asked for desserts and some dancing and singing, but no DJ and games.  Fay is a very sensible girl underneath her facade of being a “tween” – a teen-ager in training.

The story goes that a prince from each of the 12 tribes was sent by Joshua to go spy out the land of Canaan to “see the land, what it is, and the nation that lives on her, the strong the sick the few if bad”.  The spies returned with a cluster of grapes that which is often illustrated being so large that it is carried by two men on a pole between them and used as a symbol of the Carmel winery, the winery started by the Rothschilds in Israel over 100 years ago, http://www.carmelwines.co.il/ . 

Ten of the 12 spies were so fearful of the size and number of the people they saw in their tour that they recommended that it would be better to return to Egypt than try to enter the land.  The other two – Caleb of the tribe of Judah and Joshua of the tribe of Ephraim – thought that they would be able to enter the land and possess it.  The majority convinced the people to be fearful and the Lord wanted to destroy all of the people for their lack of trust.  Moses convinced the Lord that the message of the people dying in the wilderness would not be a sign of the Lord’s strength.  They compromised – this generation would die in the wilderness but their children and Caleb and Joshua would enter the promised land. 

 The haftorah (the additional reading from the Bible) tells the story of two unnamed spies who go back to the land about 40 years later.  They enter Jericho and are hunted by the city’s king.  They hide on the roof-top of an inn-keeper, Rahav, who misleads the soldiers that they had gone in the other direction.  Rahav tells them that she had heard of the miracles of the travels of the Israelites in the desert and wanted them to “let live my father and my mother and my brothers and my sisters and all that is to them and deliver our souls from death” when the Israelites enter the land.  They arranged a true sign - a line of scarlet thread in her window – that would warn the invaders that she and her family should be saved.

The boys and I joke about whether Rahav was an inn-keeper or a madam of a house on the wall of the city.  Rahav comes from a Hebrew word that means broad.  There is a legend that because of her belief in the Lord that she eventually marries Joshua.

Ten of the twelve spies convinced the people to not move forward. Two unnamed spies report that the time is right for action, after being helped by a woman of uncertain reputation, but of a great cleverness and foresight.  Perhaps this is a lesson that one should have faith in the future, that all will turn out as planned.  Perhaps one should accept “Don’t Panic” as a motto for moving into the world.  And perhaps one must wait a generation for the path that leads a family forward.

Lately, I am finding that often things are unfolding as they should, and often in comical and pleasing ways.  This last week, I heard from my Fulbright partner in Thailand that I might visit next December.  I also heard that two state grants are promised – allowing us to continue with our summer institute for future teachers and to create an online network for future teachers.  We studied how to develop a “dvar torah” in a small group meeting at the synagogue led by Rav Jeremy.  At a fund-raising auction for the Windham Region Coordinating Council, Debbie and I obtained a week at a residential arts camp in Western Connecticut for Fay and I got a seminar in “speed reading people” for 20 of my friends.  We are going to an aufruf, a declaration of an impending marriage, for the elder son of community friends and this intended at the mother’s home synagogue in Harrison, NY this morning and will spend time with Debbie’s family in the area.  All seems to be going according to someone’s plan.  Forty-two years later I am beginning to feel like a man. 

I just learned to it is best to use Internet Explorer to edit and view this blog.  There is always more to learn.