Today we live in a world riddled by conflict on the global, national and communal level. The most pressing question for contemporary society is not how to resolve conflict, because the very nature of society means there will always be conflicting interests. The bigger and more urgent question is how to navigate conflict. What are the tools we use in conflict with each other? How do we engage in argument? How do we manage disparate views and interests? This question does not see the world in binary terms – conflict is bad, harmony is good. Instead, it takes a more nuanced stance, accepting conflict as an inherent and perhaps even necessary ingredient of society-building, but asking how we remain tied to the common good even when our views may not match those of our fellow citizens. We addressed this issue when we looked at Korach. This week we build on those ideas.
At the end of our Parsha we have a moving plea to Moshe by five sisters whose father Zelofchad, has died but left no sons to inherit his portion in Israel. They request to receive his portion and remind Moshe that their father was not part of the Korach rebellion. Moshe turns to God Who tells him that the daughters should inherit the land. It is not by chance the Torah reminds us here of Korach rebellion. I want to suggest that this narrative stands as a subversive sequel to that rebellion. There is a common thread that runs through the two stories. Both are about people coming to challenge the status quo, with egalitarian arguments. Both stories feature the 'dissenter' coming before all the people and both feature a challenge to Moshe personally. However, it is in the difference of approach between the two that the message lies. After the daughters of Zelofchad present their proposition, Moshe turns to God Who tells him 'כן בנות צלפחד דברת' which is translated as 'the daughters of Zelofchad speak correctly'. I want to translate it literally - 'Yes, the daughters of Zelofchad speak....and hence shall inherit the land'. What God says to Moshe is that these women have learnt the significance of speech. They understand what it is to truly 'speak', to engage in a true face to face encounter. They do not come to argue for the sake of argument, but rather for the sake of their father's legacy.
The midrash tells us that they were learned women, they had analysed, thought, and dissected the idea logically and rationally and were convinced of the veracity of their plea. But equally, they were willing to listen to Moshe and God and accept whatever decree they would receive. Moreover, unlike Korach who is described as ויקומו – “rising up” against Moshe, they are described as ותקרבנה- “they came close/drew near” to Moshe. The way in which they presented their argument was what made all the difference. Though they stood their ground and remained true to their principles, they also recognised the imperative of making space for the other and surrendering to Divine authority. It reminds me of a beautiful line from one of Israel's famous poets Yehuda Amichai, who writes:
מן המקום שבו אנו צודקים לא יצמחו לעולם פרחים באביב
From the place in which we are correct
Never will grow
Flowers in the spring
In a world of soundbites, social media, polarisation it is very hard to know HOW to argue; HOW to stick to your principles without denigrating another who does not necessarily think like you. How to create boundaries and remain married to what makes you particular and unique yet remain in dialogue with others who are unlike you. Can we do this without losing something of own identity and tearing down the barriers that define us, as the people of Israel did with the Moabite women at the start of the Parsha? Can we do so without denigrating the ‘other’ who may be or thinks differently to me? Can we be opinionated without being arrogant? Can we principled and still maintain humility?
When the people of Israel begin to engage in sexual impropriety with non-Jewish women, Pinchas feels he has no choice but to act zealously to stop the boundary of Israelite particularity and law being breached. In certain circumstances – and they are very narrow according to the Rabbis - this zealousness is admired. But it is in fact the daughters of Zelofchad that model a more sustainable and far less radical and controversial balance. They exemplify the mandate to remain ‘particular’, wanting to protect their family’s legacy and portion. They wanted to maintain boundaries, both literally and metaphorically. But they do so not through the parochial needs of the ‘I’, but rather through strength, humility, yirat shamayim that shows deference to a higher authority. In doing so they both maintain their particular identity as the daughters of Zelofchad, but equally show both reverence and dignity to a system and an authority outside of themselves.
In my mind, their narrative is paradigmatical of the second generation. A people, who a generation earlier only knew how to cry, moan, complain and see only their own immediate needs and desires, have finally learnt to speak and see beyond themselves. The daughters of Zelofchad have taught us some fundamental lessons for building a society. Remain loyal to your identity, know who you are and maintain the boundaries of your identity – if that is in the land, or through law and ritual, culture or national traditions. Pursue constructive and productive arguments through an I-Thou encounter that makes space for others unlike ourselves from whom we can grow and become enriched. Constantly question our motives - are they pure? Are they true to ourselves and God? Are they genuinely in line with the Divine task we have been given? And do they make space for the other?
Today on 17 Tamuz we are marking the breach of the walls of Jerusalem and the שנאת חינם – the baseless hatred between Jews that led to the destruction of the Temple. Shortly before Simchat Torah this ancient malady reached a climax when two groups clashed over the ‘mechitza’ that was erected in Tel Aviv. When we do not make space for the boundaries of others – on both sides — when we forget how to speak to each other and instead engage in blaming and shaming, our boundaries are breached not just internally but also externally. Today there are some beautiful initiatives in Israel that are raising awareness of the importance of ‘speaking well’ just like the daughters of Zelofchad taught us. We would do well to think about the people of Israel in the book of Bamidbar, to muse on the difference between the first and second generations. To wonder whether the second generation merited entry to the land as a result of the process they underwent to learn how to speak. To think about the significance of the forty-year wilderness expedition that taught them the nuance and skill aligned with listening. We would do well to listen carefully to the narrative in this week’s parsha and hear the eternal words of Rav Kook whose beauty and truth echo throughout all the generations:
כי הבניין יבנה מחלקים שונים, והאמת של אור העולם תבנה מצדדים שונים, וכל השיטות יתבררו, ואלו ואלו דברי אלוהים חיים, מדרכי העבודה והחינוך השונים [...] שבזה יתישרו הדברים ולא יהיו סותרים זה את זה. וריבוי הדעות שבא על ידי השתנות הנפשות. דווקא הוא מעשיר את החוכמה וגורם להרחבתה ויוכר שאי אפשר היה לבנין השלום שיבנה אלא על ידי כל אותן ההשפעות הנראות כמנצחות זו את זו .
The Temple will be built from many different parts and the truth of the worldly light will be built from different perspectives, and all the opinions will be made clear, and 'these and these are the words of the Living God', the differing paths of education and worship will come together, joining things that will not contradict each other. The multiplicity of opinions that come through the diversity of souls are what enriches wisdom and causes a broadening and understanding that without which we could not build peacefully, it will be built through the influences that seems to defeat each other. (From the Siddur of Rav Kook 'Olot Haraya' page 330)
May we be deserving of the Temple being rebuilt speedily in our days.
Shabbat Shalom
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