Kedoshim

Parshat Hashavua - Acharey Mot/Kedoshim - Rabbi Shimon Felix

This week, we read a double portion, Acharey Mot and Kedoshim. The second one, Kedoshim, which begins with the commandment to be holy, as God Himself is, is full to the brim with moral/ethical material, a real treasure chest of beautiful and insightful laws and practices. One of the most famous ones is the commandment to "Love your neighbor as yourself." The Rabbis of the Talmud come up with a long list of interesting actions and behaviors which they feel exemplify and define this mitzvah, and I'd like to focus on one of them.

The Talmud in Tractate Niddah - which deals with the laws of ritual purity pertaining mainly to menstruant women and sexual activity in general - quotes this interesting statement (page 17a):

"Rav Chisda says: It is forbidden for a man to have sexual relations during the day, as it is written 'and you shall love your neighbor as yourself'. How does this verse imply this law? Abayye says: lest he see in her [his wife] an unseemly thing, and she become unattractive to him."

The idea seems to be that in the daytime, as opposed to in the dark of night, one sees things more clearly, and therefore, during the act of sex, one runs the risk of seeing something unattractive, unaesthetic, and being turned off. This risk is lessened in the dark, so making love in the dark (it would seem that Rav Chisda is playing with the word "love" here) would seem to be an expression of loving your neighbor - in this case your wife - as yourself (not sure about that, but we will come back to it) by giving her a break, being nice to her, taking the pressure off of her to always look perfect, and love her even if she has an unseen blemish or two.

Immediately after this statement, the Talmud continues:

"Rav Huna says: The people of Israel are holy, and do not have marital relations during the day. Rava says: If it was in a darkened house it is permitted, and a scholar may make it dark with his cloak and have relations [presumably scholars in particular are to be trusted to get this tricky little maneuver right].''

This rule, that one should have sex only at night, or in the dark, is stated a few more times in the Talmud, and is in fact codified by Maimonides and others. In this formulation, the reason would seem to be that it is brazen and immodest to have sex in the light of day - not holy - and good Jewish men and women are meant to be holy and make love modestly. Rav Chisda's 'love they neighbor as yourself' reason for making love in the dark seems aimed, if not in the opposite direction, then at least in a different one, that of enhancing and encouraging a positive erotic connection between husband and wife; he does not seem to be concerned with modesty. Rather, he seems to focus on the aesthetic aspect of intimate relations: merely seeing something unseemly in one's partner would, it seems, render her (and perhaps him, as well, though that is not the point of view from which the men of the Talmud were operating) undesirable, so, for a happy love life, keep the lights off.

These two statements seem, at first glance, to be somewhat contradictory; the one a kind of marital advice to couples type of thing, the other an expression of a desire to minimize excessive passion in the sex act. Interestingly, however, the Talmud does not in any way see these two positions as adversarial, it just quotes one after the other, as if they go together. Perhaps this is the case. Perhaps the two statements are coming from the same place, and basically expressing the same thing - a desire to improve the quality of intimacy in a relationship. I will try and explain how.

I am sure that all of you have noticed (no matter how hard you have tried not to) that pornography has entered the aesthetic mainstream. The way that women are represented in music videos, Hollywood, fashion, even works of "serious" "art" (have I used enough quotation marks to make my point, Jeff Koons, et al.?) more and more takes its inspiration from pornography, where woman is objectified by the male gaze as a personification of a posed, sleazy, voyeuristic, often fetishized sexuality, divorced from love or even relationship, always available, and, crucially, always on display. In this dynamic, the woman is an object enjoyed visually by the male watcher/lover, who functions primarily as a voyeur, of both his partner and of the very act of sex. Sex, in this aesthetic, is something that is first and foremost watched, rather than engaged in.
(The above has always been true, to some degree, in western art; I am claiming a worsening of the situation, a coarsening of this essentially male, voyeuristic way of representing women and sexuality).

The Talmud, here, in the laws of modesty during intimacy, is polemicizing against this approach, and argues for modesty as a positive and crucial element in an intimate relationship - not only for the sake of modesty, but, more importantly, for the sake of relationship. A sexuality that reveals all, and puts everything (typically everything the woman has) on display, is not only immodest. It also sets up a kind of sexual aesthetic that a woman can almost never live up to, for, in an interaction of this type, the lover/voyeur will inevitably find something unpleasing in the object of his desire, something not quite good-looking enough, and move on. The modesty prescribed in the Talmud calls for a sexuality which is based not primarily on the visual and aesthetic pleasure given by an object of desire to the beholder/enjoyer of that object, but, rather, on a commitment to find something deeper, something beyond an inevitably fleeting aesthetic experience. (The connection between the above and the prohibition against making a graven image, which is essentially about making a divine, rather than sexual, figure, is worth thinking about.)

Perhaps Rav Chisda, with his use of the 'love your neighbor' verse, is asking us to love our closest neighbor - our spouse - the way we love ourselves, which is a love based on who I really am, not on how I look. All of us realize (well, should realize, anyway) that, even when we see a pimple in the mirror, put on a few extra pounds, or notice a receding hairline, we are still us, and we, hopefully, still feel good about ourselves, still know and like who we really are. Rav Chisda in the Talmud reads the 'love your neighbor as yourself' verse as asking us to use modesty to help us achieve and maintain that same kind of love, a love of knowing and experiencing, with our partner, rather than just seeing her - or him - as an object to be enjoyed.

Shabbat Shalom,
Shimon

Parshat Hashavua - Kedoshim - Rabbi Shimon Felix

 

 Hello, all. This week we are going to approach the parshat hashavua [weekly portion] - actually a double one, Acharey Mot and Kedoshim (we will just look at Kedoshim) - a bit differently than usual. First, we will begin with a bonus: an op-ed from the NY Times which, at no little personal expense, and through the magic of the internet, I have made available to you, right here. Just click, read (or skim, it's not that complicated), and then please don't forget to close the article and come back to me!

OPINION   | April 28, 2009
Op-Ed Contributors:  Fund Government With Dirty Money
By CHARLES A. INTRIAGO and ROBERT A. BUTTERWORTH
The government should enforce asset forfeiture laws and take back the wealth that criminals have stolen from taxpayers.
You back yet? You didn't click to some other stuff in the Times and forget about me and, more importantly, the parsha, did you? Good. Now, here are some verses from Kedoshim, which, by the way, is a beautiful portion, containing, among many greatest hits, "Love thy neighbor as thyself", and other important moral-ethical principles. Look at this: When you gather in the harvest of your land, you must not completely harvest the corner of your field, and you must not gather up the gleanings of your harvest. You must not pick your vineyard bare, and you must not gather up the fallen grapes of your vineyard. You must leave them for the poor and the foreigner. I am the Lord your God. You must not steal, you must not tell lies, and you must not deal falsely with your fellow citizen.  You must not swear falsely in my name, so that you do not profane the name of your God. I am the Lord.  You must not oppress your neighbor or commit robbery against him. You must not withhold the wages of the hired laborer overnight until morning.  You must not curse a deaf person or put a stumbling block in front of a blind person. You must fear your God; I am the Lord.

We have here an interesting mix of socially conscious commandments, starting with the act of charity which the landowner must do by leaving some food behind for the poor when he harvests his field, prohibitions against stealing, lying, swearing falsely, robbery, withholding wages, cursing or tricking the afflicted, etc. Frankly, if the entire Torah was reduced to this, and we managed to obey it, we would be living in paradise, but that's another story.  What I want to point out is this: the Torah includes prohibitions against stealing and robbing (there is a difference, cf. The Beatles, Abbey Road; She Came in Through the Bathroom Window, but we will not go into it), together with other mitzvot dealing with our behavior towards our fellow man, all of which demand of us to be truthful, charitable, sensitive, fair, and honest with one another, especially with society's victims: the poor, the stranger, the handicapped. By placing the prohibitions against stealing and robbing here, the Torah is teaching us that theft is, first and foremost, a crime against my neighbor, a social crime, akin to lying, withholding wages, cheating or hurting someone; it is a social crime. 

In line with this thinking, the Torah, in a number of places, mandates basically one punishment for crimes of theft: restitution. The thief must return what he stole. In certain circumstances he is also fined, and must pay the victim more than the value of the stolen item, usually double, but in some cases as much as four or five times its worth. These fines serve as both deterrence and full restitution: in many cases - for example, if the stolen item is a farm animal, or a tool - the victim incurs a loss during the absence of the stolen item, and the fine pays him or her back for that. 

Clearly, the Torah, by including theft together with lying, cursing, and other crimes against the individual, and by mandating restitution rather than incarceration or some other punishment, is telling us that  theft is, first and foremost, a crime against the victim, and, accordingly, what you must do is repair the damage done to him or her. With this in mind,  I found the article from the Times especially interesting, in that the US justice system seems to have a totally different approach, one in which deterrence and punishment are the only goals, and restitution is not really a concern. In addition, there is no real attempt to, at the very least, not allow the thief to enjoy his ill-gotten gains, which, to my mind, weakens tremendously any deterrence which a jail sentence might achieve.

It seems to me that the Torah's focus on the wrong which the criminal has done to his victim, and the Torah's determination to force the criminal,  before anything else, to right that wrong, correctly places our personal obligations to one another at the center of the criminal justice system, making for a healthier, more just society. By making restitution to the victim the focus of  our concern, rather than concentrating on punishing the thief for having broken the law, a somewhat more amorphous concept, we reaffirm the importance of our relationship to and responsibility for the other, the person we have harmed,  rather than our obligations to "the law",  thereby reinforcing our personal responsibility to care for and give justice to all.

Shabbat Shalom,

Shimon

Parshat Hashavua - Kedoshim - Rabbi Shimon Felix

Pluralism is one of the central elements of BYFI's mission, and, as such, is discussed, often and at length, during the Fellowship summer and at subsequent seminars and events. As you know, there are a number of ways to understand what pluralism means and how it works. Pluralism can be understood as ranging from tolerance - these guys are wrong, we are right, but we will allow them to live among us and not be too nasty to them - to a real acceptance and even encouragement of the equal validity of different world-views and belief systems. In this week's parsha, Kedoshim, there is a verse that triggers a discussion among the Rabbis of the Talmud about some of these issues. The verse goes like this: "Do not hate your brother in your heart; rebuke, you shall surely rebuke your brother, and do not bear a sin because of him." Some of the commentaries read this verse as a single narrative: If you feel that someone has wronged you in some way, don't hold in your feelings ("Do not hate your brother in your heart"). Rather, tell him how you feel ("rebuke, you shall surely rebuke your brother"), because if you don't, you will, as a result of your unresolved hatred for him or her, ultimately sin in some way ("and do not bear a sin because of him"). In this pshat (reading), the Torah is teaching us about the need for openness and honesty in human relationships: don't bear a grudge, don't hold in a hurt or an anger. Tell the person you are angry at how you feel - discuss it, work it out. Others look at the middle section of this verse - "rebuke, you shall surely rebuke your brother" - atomistically, as a separate commandment. They read it as referring to any sin which any Jew commits, rather than some private wrong that one individual has done to another, and they understand it as a commandment to all Jews to not stand idly by and let a sinner go on sinning, but, rather, to call him or her on it, to rebuke the sinner, and make him stop.  READ MORE »