The portion takes it for granted that war is sometimes a regrettable necessity.
Judaism is peace-loving, but not pacifist. When nothing else works, one has to fight. Unfortunately, war requires the use of force. In the Talmudic phrase, kol d’alim g’var – whoever is more powerful prevails.
People are going to be hurt. That’s what war is. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that war is noble and cleansing. When lives and limbs are shattered it is an unmitigated tragedy. When weapons are unleashed they are no longer our servants but our masters.
The ideal is of course to change weapons of war into instruments of peace, to turn warriors into statesmen, to bind up the wounds of the enemy as well as one’s own, to see the other side’s point of view even without endorsing it, to say that everyone has a right to sit quietly under their vine and fig tree with none to make them afraid.
A homely saying of a former colleague of mine sums it all up. When people asked, “Aren’t you and I related?” he used to say, “My grandmother and your grandmother dried their washing under the same sun”.
Let me adapt his saying and apply it to the dream of peace: “My grandchildren and your grandchildren ought to be able to run and play in the same sunshine”.
The Torah prohibits marriage with Ammonites “because they met you not with bread and with water” (Deut. 23:5).
The Israelites in the wilderness did not receive even elementary humanity on the part of some of the desert tribes. The Moabites provided bread and water, though for a price (Deut. 2:29). The Ammonites did not even do that much.
These tribes could not have been expected to love and cherish the Israelites and treat them as welcome guests, but they could at least have acted with a modicum of basic decency. To bring such people into the Israelite fold by means of marriage would be to lower the ethical standards of Israel.
If someone is hungry and thirsty, the Jewish ethical conscience immediately comes forward with food and water. If a Jew fails to act in a humane way, their Jewishness does not appear genuine.
There is a modern application of this teaching. In Australia and elsewhere there are refugees who were not invited to come, but they are there, and while their applications for permission to stay are undergoing due process, they have to be treated with basic decency and be given access to food, clothing, health care and education.
It is said that some are not genuine refugees and some may even have been planted there with hopes of setting up criminal cells. All of this reinforces the need for full and proper screening. But in the meantime, the modern equivalent of the Biblical bread and water must be assured.
Q. If I am summoned to the Beth Din, do I have to come?
The London Beth Din in session in the 1920sA. Yes.
The Seven Laws of the Sons of Noah insist upon the establishment of a system of justice; otherwise, as the sages put it, people would eat each other alive.
A Jewish community is required by the Torah to appoint “judges and officers… in all your gates” (Deut. 16:18). A Beth Din is therefore invested with authority from the Almighty and members of a community are duty bound to heed its summons and obey its ruling.
To the argument that previous generations might have had judges of greater calibre, the Talmud replies, “Jephthah in his generation is like Samuel in his”.
At times in history a Beth Din could impose punishment or other sanctions; today, outside Israel, it has no sheriff or police force, but nonetheless there is a religious and moral obligation to comply with its determinations.
Q. Why do blessings first address God as “You” and move to the third person, “He”?
A. The Rashba (Shlomo ibn Adret, 1235-1310) says this illustrates the two great principles of Judaism – that God exists, and that His nature is known only to Himself.
The blessings begin “Blessed are You”, which shows we accept that God is, but then when we say something about Him we stand back and say “He” and “His” (e.g. “He sanctified us with His commandments”) because His true nature is concealed from us.
A. When not in use, the scroll is covered as a mark of reverence and respect; the words of the Torah are holy and divine, and neither they nor the parchment on which they are inscribed must be treated frivolously.
So important is the mantle that it is beautifully embroidered, often with symbols like the Ten Commandments and lions of Judah and appropriate Biblical quotations. Eastern communities generally place their Torah scrolls in elaborately fashioned wooden or silver cylindrical cases.
The bells or crown not only represent the majesty and authority of the Torah but as the scroll is carried around the synagogue their tinkling reminds the congregation to stand reverently.
This is probably connected with the rule that the high priest had to have bells on the hem of his garment so that he would not enter the Holy of Holies unannounced. Likewise there is an ethical requirement not to enter anyone’s premises, even one’s own, without ringing the doorbell, knocking, or some other means of announcing his or her presence.
Rabbi Dr Raymond Apple zt”l passed away in January 2024. As an archive of the Rabbi’s written contributions across his many fields of interest, this site is a tribute to the man and his work. See the About section for more information on his life. Y’hi zichro baruch.
OzTorah is a weekly email service and website exploring the timeless teachings of Jewish tradition from a contemporary Australian and global perspective. The site includes insights into the parashah, an Ask the Rabbi forum, and articles on various Jewish and interfaith issues.
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The portion takes it for granted that war is sometimes a regrettable necessity.
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