The central theme of our sidra this morning is the reconnaissance mission of meraglim which Moses sent into Canaan to spy out the land and see if it can be taken by the Israelites grouped in the desert, at its borders, as God had promised. These meraglim were important people, people held in respect by their peers and leaders of their tribes. When they returned from their tour of duty they reported to Moses and to Israel: the land is rich – it is indeed a land flowing with milk and honey. They brought back tremendous clusters of grapes to prove its fertility and the richness of its natural resources. However, they said, the land was inhabited by a race of giants who dwarfed the Israelites and made them look like locusts. They were a mighty people, heavily armed and their cities powerfully fortified. By no stretch of imagination, by no exercise of military optimism is it conceivable, they reported, that this band of newly freed Semite slaves could fight and beat the race of armed Canaanite giants. This is what they had seen, and so had they reported. As a consequence of their report, the anger of God was kindled against the entire people, and especially the meraglim. It was then that God determined the punishment: 40 years of circuitous and tortuous travel in the great burning desert. Plague was to strike these people, and this entire generation would die out in the desert, not one of them would ever set foot on the Promised Land of Canaan, only their children, who had not been partner to this pessimistic report, only they would enter Canaan.It is a story which is well-known but which is puzzling. They were punished in a most harsh manner – an entire generation killed off. And we sometimes wonder at the justice of the penalty: did the meraglim not tell the truth? They reported just what they saw. They did not lie, they did not tell one untruth. All was truthful. Why should people be punished for telling the truth?In the answer to that question, supplied by the emine…

There is an old proverb, in the finest and juiciest Yiddish vernacular, which expresses a great and unfortunate truth – ווי עס קריסטלט זיך, אזוי אידעלט זיך, “as the gentile goes, so goes the Jew”. This pointed and biting comment on the Jew in exile is amply attested to by our history. The Canaanites worshipped idols – and later the Israelites did. In the Middle Ages, the Christians developed ascetic sects – and then some Jews propounded a form of asceticism which smacked of Christianity. The Poles and Cossacks wore a certain type of clothing, and then the Jews adopted and sanctified it and continued to wear it even long after it had passed out of style. Whether culturally or sociologically or religiously, the Jew has often fallen prey to this form of mimicry which calls for adopting and adapting the worst forms and features of other peoples.Our Sages, in the beautiful homilies they usually employ, underscore this point. In this week’s biblical portion we read of the twelve meraglim who were sent to the Promised Land by Moses. Their mission was clear and to the point. They were to spy out the land and report their findings to Moses and the people. Two of these special investigators, Kaleb and Joshua, were profoundly impressed by the beauty of the Land, its great possibilities and the tremendous potential of the Israelites in developing and thriving in that country. The other ten spies, however, did not take such a sanguine approach. They were cowed by some giants they had encountered. They brought back reports which sound like a biblical version of Jack and the Beanstalk. Disconcerted, discouraged and disheartened, they submitted a gloomy and pessimistic report. Now pessimism is a highly contagious disease, and soon they infected most of their fellow Jews. The results were tragic and the wrath of God was incurred. But what caused this state of affairs? The meraglim must have undergone some special experience which contributed to this campaign of fear and hysteria wh…

This morning’s portion concludes with the famous passage concerning the commandment to wear fringes, tzitzit, on our garments. The Torah demands that one of the four threads, which are to be doubled over into eight, should be colored tekhelet, a heavenly blue. The law requires that this dye be prepared from the blood of a special mollusk or snail called the hilazon. Today we no longer know exactly the identity of this hilazon; even in the days of the Mishnah it was scarce. Therefore, the overwhelming majority of Jews today do not wear any tekhelet in their tzitzit, although some few groups maintain that they can definitely identify this mollusk and therefore do wear one thread of tekhelet in their fringes. Now, far beyond the emblematic or symbolic value of the tzitzit, this commandment is full of deep religious meaning and mystical significance. But in addition to this, permit me to commend your attention to a sensitive ethical-moral point regarding the tekhelet proposed by the Talmud (B.M. 61b). The Sages quote God as saying, ani hu she'atid li-para mi-mi she-toleh kala ilan bevigdo v’omer tekhelet hu, “I will punish one who affixes a thread of blue dyed with kala ilan and announces that it really is tekhelet.” Now, the tekhelet, coming from the rare mollusk hilazon, is expensive and scarce; kala ilan is a common and cheap vegetable dye, called indigo. One who dyes his fringes with kala ilan and proclaims it to be tekhelet is therefore palming off the artificial as genuine. The statement in the Talmud is, therefore, a protest against hypocrisy and deception.How often we witness – or, indeed, are ourselves the victims of – such sham piety and duplicity. We all too often have personal experiences with people who pretend to be righteous and decent, but are really quite ignoble and selfish. And we wonder: why should such people get away with it? The Talmud, therefore, promises us that God, in His good time, will exact justice on such people. He, as the embodiment of …

The portion of Shelah is a painful one to read. It is the story of Jews against Jews, of internal dissension and discouragement. The meraglim, the princely scouts sent by Moses to spy out Canaan prior to the Israelite invasion, came back with two reports, a majority and a minority report. Not only were they split, but the whole of Jewish leadership and all the people were divided. The result was an unmitigated disaster.That this civil divisiveness included derogatory statements about Eretz Yisrael only made matters worse. A great Jewish scholar, Rabbi Meir Simhah Cohen of Dvinsk, one of the most illustrious sages of a generation or two ago, made the observation that of the two major catastrophic episodes of the early history of Israel, the spies and the making of the Golden Calf, the former was far more serious. God was incensed by the idolatry of the Golden Calf, but He ultimately forgave the people. However, He refused to forgive the entire generation that was guilty in the incident of the meraglim. The Golden Calf was a sin against God, and this He was able to forgive. But the divisiveness in the wake of the spies’ report was a sin against Israel, especially against the Land of Israel, and when God finds Jews fouling their own nest he considers it unforgivable.Jewish anti-Jewishness and Jewish enmity to their own land have always been a thorn in the flesh of our people. All too often have Jews been the victim of Jewish betrayal. It is not generally known that the Chief of Staff of the Roman General Titus who conquered Jerusalem, set the torch to the Second Temple, ushering in the great destruction which we have been mourning for almost 2,000 years – was a meshumad, a renegade Jew, who was no less than the nephew of the great Alexandrian Jewish philosopher, Philo. During the Second Commonwealth, informers to Rome and treacherous Jewish sectarians were so common that our Sages found it necessary to institute a special, 19th blessing to be added to the Amidah, deno…

Worry over the younger generation seems to be a characteristic Jewish preoccupation ever since ancient times. Already at the Exodus, when we first emerged as a people, the Torah made as many as four references to children and how they will interpret those historic events. As we all know, the Haggadah uses these four references to formulate a typology of Jewish children. And, significantly, three of them are certainly cause for concern! So has it been throughout Jewish history. The Talmud is full of advice about how to keep the younger generation “in line,” and some of the sages of the Middle Ages often brood over the possibility of their children failing to follow in the footsteps of their elders. About three hundred and fifty years ago, the author of “יוסף אמץ” prescribed the proper parental attitude in a manner perfectly appropriate to our own days. Over two hundred years ago, Rabbi Moshe Hagiz complained that in his days children were ruling the roost, society had acceded to the autocracy of children in the family. And this – a full two centuries before Dr. Spock!In our days, the youth problem is exacerbated, as is everything else, but it is not unprecedented. The counter-culture, the youth revolution, are facts of enormous importance for the history of our times. But it would be a mistake to speak of the younger generation as if it was cut out of whole cloth, as if that term described all young people. That would be no more accurate than assuming that all mature people share the same point of view. With regard to Jewish life, there is a large group of the indifferent in the middle, ranging from those to whom Judaism means absolutely nothing to those for whom it has a marginal meaning, and includes the extreme left of those young Jews who are actively anti-Israel and perhaps anti-Semitic. But it includes, as a countermeasure, a far more significant and probably more numerous group of those who have brought their particular and peculiar youthful zeal to bear on a…

“Does it pay to be good?” is a question one often hears – and asks – as a sign of frustration. Usually, it is just an expression of momentary disappointment, and serves a cathartic function. But sometimes, and with some people, and especially if repeated often enough, it is elevated from a query of complaint to a philosophy of life, and from a passing mood to a firm moral judgment. So let us ask ourselves the question rather seriously: does it pay to be good?We must first divide the question into two parts, by posing a counter-question: “pay” for whom?“Does it pay to be good?” may refer to the benefactor, to the one asking the question; or it may refer to the beneficiary, the one who is the recipient of my goodness and generosity.The first question – does it pay for me to be good – probably should be answered, for most cases, in the negative. If you expect dividends from your ethical investments, you are seriously in error. The good life is not necessarily the happy life. John Kennedy, born into a wealthy family, high society, and catapulted into historic political prominence, decided that “life isn’t fair.” Much earlier, the Rabbis broodingly concluded that שכר מצוה בהאי עלמא ליכא, that the reward for virtue simply is not in evidence in this world. For myself, I am professionally engaged a good part of the time in doing favors for people, and arranging for some people to be kind to others. I long, long ago learned that one thing I must never expect (if I wanted to lead a life free from constant minor disappointments) is – gratitude. I now never expect anyone to show gratitude. Therefore, when, as often happens, I meet people who are possessed of that noble virtue, I am delighted beyond words at the great discovery of – a genuine human being. But ingratitude neither overwhelms me nor surprises me any longer because, truth to tell, and without the least trace of cynicism, it is the rule rather than the exception. Were a person to be good only because it pays, or bec…