21 May 2011

Parashat B'Chukotai: Doing Honest Business With God

Parashat B'Chukotai is the last Torah Portion in Leviticus. It starts with a discussion of reward and punishment based on whether the Israelites follow the laws about the Sabbatical and Jubilee years. Then it moves toward laws that seem even more egregious than consequences of bad behavior and our failure to be adequate stewards of the earth. The Torah discusses the various worths of different sorts of persons in the context of vowing the value of a person. As modern readers, we get bogged down in the difference between personal worth and economic worth, and the gender discrepancies involved. It is bothersome, understandably, that young able-bodied males are worth 50 shekels whereas females are only worth 30 shekels. However, often our conversation gets bogged down in the gender discrepancies, and once we have resolved them theologically or historically.

If for some reason, we get past the gender issues in our analysis, and in a 5 to 15 minute d'var torah they make an easy target, we then throw the entire situation out because this ritual was associated with the Temple cult. It's easier to call a whole practice outdated than to wrestle with what is good or bad inside the practice.

Once we get past these issues, a clear moral question comes to mind. Can we really put a price on any human life? In this sense the passage is inspiring of - what's the word? - righteous anger. How dare my precious scripture put a price on any human being? What does it mean to say human beings made in God's image are worth some sort of finite monetary value? This train of thought is important to consider. Is Torah contradicting itself here? And if so, which value supersedes the other? I say the value of humanity created b'tzelem elohim trumps all.

But this moral question is still a too-easy answer for what Torah is discussing here. Individuals are making vows worth a person to God, but doing business with a non-corporeal entity always requires a human broker. In this case, the priests act as brokers between God and humanity. Emotions run high if you have vowed the value of a spouse at war for her safe return. Torah recognizes that the practice of the business of vowing the value of a person is tempting but dangerous. People who have been gifted the safety of a loved one are in a vulnerable place. Priests may have been tempted to extort monetary amounts much greater than those outlined in parashat b'chukotai for these sorts of vows. The monetary amounts outlined ensure that no greater price may be demanded in such a situation, protecting society's most vulnerable from predatory practices. While the specifics may need to be left to their historical context, I believe this practice is a form of God using honest weights and measures in business. As remarkable as it seems, God is committing to following God's own holiness code.

08 May 2011

Naivete

The first time I said "I love you" I was fourteen and I was late in saying it. My love had been saying it creatively for a few months, and I knew I loved her, but I was a little dense and didn't realize that she was saying "I love you." When I did finally realize it, I felt even more loved by her than I had before, mostly because of her enduring patience.

My fourteen-year-old self had no idea how my life would turn out, and assumed that we would last for ever. Death cannot stop true love. I was naive then, but I am disillusioned now. Honestly, I'm not sure which is better.