Parashat Bechukkotai

by Rabbi Janet Burden

Summary:

The opening verses of our parashah (Lev. 26:3-13) contain fantastical promises of peace and prosperity - IF we but keep God’s commandments and walk in God’s ways. I almost think that the Biblical writer is deliberately lulling us into a pleasant daydream, so that he can throw a giant bucket of water over us to shake us from our reverie! The curses that follow if we DON’T obey take up more than twice the space of the promised blessings (vv. 14-45) – and the threats are laid on just as thick. The rest of the portion contains laws concerning pledges to the Temple and various forms of consecration, culminating with laws concerning tithing.

Commentary
In the classic midrashim on this portion, our rabbinic sages spent much more of their time fantasizing about the great bounty promised, rather than dwelling on the threat of punishments. The surfeit of the grain was just the beginning. They speculated that the land would yield all manner of extraordinary produce, including lentils the size of coins….a true vegetarian’s dream!

But what was the reason for all this extravagance? Why did the rabbis feel such a need to expand on the promise of the Torah, which would seem far more than adequate? Perhaps they are not responding to the promises at all, but instead to the litany of curses and threats, which makes incredibly grim reading. Commentators over the years have noted this, justifying it by saying that at this stage in their development, the people Israel still responded like donkeys: better to sticks than to carrots.

The rabbis, however, understood that the people of their own day needed encouragement more than admonishment. They wrote from their own historical moment and their own lived reality. Jewish sovereignty over the land was broken. The Temple was destroyed and the people scattered. Those that remained within the land were oppressed and abused. These people did not need reminding what it would feel like to lose God’s blessing. They were living out that very experience. What they needed was hope – and a dream to hang on to.

The shifting balance between the ‘carrot’ and the ‘stick’ forms of inducement has continued to be played out over the centuries. Sometimes one prevails, sometimes the other. In our own times, we see the opposing strategies expressed in the public debates on education, criminal justice and social theory. On the whole, I think this is good. As with most things, we need to strike a balance, to find a middle way. Both carrot and stick are necessary at times for people to understand the consequences of their actions.

Nevertheless, I hope that people will not dismiss me as simply the product of my own liberal upbringing when I say that, for our children, I hope we err more often on the side of the carrot than the stick. By this I don’t mean that we should cater to their every whim, or hold out the latest gadgets and computer games to secure their grudging compliance. Rather, I am thinking of the bigger picture. What will best help our children to acquire the skills they need to shape a better world, a world worthy of the God we profess? Like the rabbis of long ago, I deem that what is most needed in our time is a dream to which they can aspire.

My comment might come as a surprise to some of you. After all, we live in a society of seeming prosperity, and life for most of us is good. Yet think of the burden that our children are going to have to carry! We are passing on to them a world fraught with dangers, plagued with inequalities and injustice. They will inherit from us unprecedented power to wage war, and even to destroy the planet. We know from experience that pointing out the potentially dire consequences to those who wield power rarely causes them to turn from destructive courses of action. Whether we like admitting it or not, it seems that the power of the stick is limited. But the power of a dream – who knows what that can achieve?

Although rooted firmly in the past, Jewish tradition’s focus has always been forward, towards the time of the messianic age, towards a time of universal justice and plenty. Unlike our rabbinic ancestors, we don’t need to spend our time embellishing it or simply fantasizing over it. What we do need to do, however, is to find a way to keep that vision alive, and to communicate it to our children.

We can do this best by conquering our own despair and our own inertia – by choosing to live as if all our choices and our actions matter. Our children will be guided by our dreams, and how we set about pursuing them. We owe it to them, and to the future, to ensure that our dreams are worthy.

Rabbi Janet Burden
Ealing Liberal Synagogue
West Central Liberal Synagogue