In this week's parasha (Torah portion), Chukat, we learn of the strange ritual of the parah adumah (the red heifer). The parah adumah was sacrificed and its ashes were used by the priests to purify those who had tumat met (ritual defilement from coming into contact with a corpse). However, the priest would become impure himself during the process of purification with the ashes. This ritual is an epitome of a chok in Judaism, a law for which we are given no reason. This chok in particular is paradoxical because what makes pure renders the priest impure. Midrash Rabbah opens on our parasha:
The concept of something pure coming from something impure is a reassuring reminder that there is always room for redemption and teshuvah (repentance). Righteous kings were able to forge new paths not begun by their fathers, and sometimes purifying something makes one impure in the process, but there is always a way to become pure once again. This reminds me of the teaching the first set of tablets, which Moshe broke when he saw b'nai yisrael sinning with the egel hazahav, were kept in the ark with the second set of tablets. Essentially, the sin of the egel hazahav led to the breaking of those tablets, but out of that experience was formed an ark which held both the shattered pieces and the new tablets.
Brokenness itself is a state of being to which God is drawn. S/He wants us to be whole and to do teshuvah, and to be in a state of equanimity. For example, following the Rabban Gamiliel telling Rabbi Eliezer of that he was excommunicated (Baba Metzia 59a-b) Rabbi Eliezer's wife tries to prevent him from praying with his full broken heart because God will hear him and will inevitably have mercy on him and punish Rabban Gamliel, who was her brother:
This week's parasha teaches a lesson that is embodied by one of my most famous quotes. It is an anonymous Hassidic teaching: "There is nothing more whole than a broken heart." When we remember that what is clean can make unclean and that from negative, positive can emerge, we are able to move forward with optimism, hope, and an ability to put things in perspective.
Who can bring a clean thing out of an unclean? No one [i.e. only God] (Job XIV, 4). For example, Abraham out of Terah; Hezekiah out of Ahaz; Josiah out of Amon; Mordecai out of Shimei; Israel out of the idolaters; the future world out of this world. Who did this? Who commanded this? Who decreed this? Was it not the world's Only One? . . . We have learned elsewhere (Hul. 29b): The persons engaged in any part of the preparation of the Red Heifer from beginning to end defile garments, while the Heifer itself makes garments ritually clean. The Holy One, blessed be He, says: ‘I have laid down a statute; I have issued a decree! You cannot transgress My decree.’The examples given in this midrash are interesting. Terach was Avraham's father. Avraham, being the first Jew, came from a family of idol worshipers. According to tradition, Avraham's father even owned an idol repair shop! Hezekiah and Ahaz are another father-son pair. They were both kings, Hezekiah being Ahaz's son. Ahaz introduced idolatrous and pagan customs during his reign. Hezekiah removed idols from the Temple in Jerusalem and restored worship as ordained in the Torah. Similarly, King Josiah removed the idolatrous worship that his father, King Amon had instituted. Our hero in the Esther story, Mordechai, was the grandson of King David's enemy, Shim'ei. The Midrash continues with a few examples of other types of ritual impurity which are caused by something which in and of itself is pure.
The concept of something pure coming from something impure is a reassuring reminder that there is always room for redemption and teshuvah (repentance). Righteous kings were able to forge new paths not begun by their fathers, and sometimes purifying something makes one impure in the process, but there is always a way to become pure once again. This reminds me of the teaching the first set of tablets, which Moshe broke when he saw b'nai yisrael sinning with the egel hazahav, were kept in the ark with the second set of tablets. Essentially, the sin of the egel hazahav led to the breaking of those tablets, but out of that experience was formed an ark which held both the shattered pieces and the new tablets.
Brokenness itself is a state of being to which God is drawn. S/He wants us to be whole and to do teshuvah, and to be in a state of equanimity. For example, following the Rabban Gamiliel telling Rabbi Eliezer of that he was excommunicated (Baba Metzia 59a-b) Rabbi Eliezer's wife tries to prevent him from praying with his full broken heart because God will hear him and will inevitably have mercy on him and punish Rabban Gamliel, who was her brother:
Now, Eliezar was married to the sister of R. Gamliel, who pronounced the ban. And Eliezar’s wife then prevented Eliezar from saying his personal supplicatory prayers for many years, until one day when she got the calendar wrong, and thought it was a day when such prayers are not said. Gamliel promptly died -- she says to her husband -- you have killed my brother.
While this is a dramatic tale, and I would not suggest that any of us has the power to take a life simply by our prayers, it does illustrate God's love and compassion for us when we are hurt, broken, suffering, and in need of repair. To see a fabulous cartoon video of the entire story Rabbi Eliezer and his excommunication, watch this:
This week's parasha teaches a lesson that is embodied by one of my most famous quotes. It is an anonymous Hassidic teaching: "There is nothing more whole than a broken heart." When we remember that what is clean can make unclean and that from negative, positive can emerge, we are able to move forward with optimism, hope, and an ability to put things in perspective.
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