B”H
This week’s parshah (Torah portion) is Numbers 19:1-22:1, or חקת (Khukat,
Statute). Perhaps the most memorable and well-known event of Khukat is
the story of Moses striking the rock without faith in G-D and thus disallowing
him and Aaron to enter the Holy Land. But before we delve into the meat of this
section, I wish to turn attention to one interesting verse of the parshah,
Numbers 20:1, which reads:
ויבאו בני ישראל
כל העדה מדבר צן בחדש הראשון וישב העם בקדש ותמת שם מרים ותקבר שם
My translation
[and commentary]: “And they came, the children of Israel, the entire
community, to the desert of Tzin in the first month, and the people sat [settled]
in Kadesh. Miriam [Moses’ sister] died there and was buried there.”
The story
immediately continues after Miriam’s death with the story of the stone. Compare
her death to Aaron’s death at the end of the same chapter, Numbers 20:28-29,
which reads:
ויפשט משה את אהרן
את בגדיו וילבש אתם את אלעזר בנו וימת אהרן שם בראש ההר וירד משה ואלעזר מן ההר ויראו
כל העדה כי גוע אהרן ויבכו את אהרן שלשים יום כל בית ישראל
My translation
[and commentary]: “And did remove Moses Aaron of his clothing, and did he
[Moses] place them onto Eleazar, his [Aaron’s] son, and did die Aaron atop the
mountain. And Moses and Eleazar descended from the mountain. And saw, the whole
community, that Aaron did fade [die], and the entire House of Israel, wept
Aaron for thirty days.”
Moses endures
the death of his beloved siblings in this parshah, but the Torah paints
a different picture of community bereavement for these two critical figures in
the story of the Bible. Miriam receives no proper mourning – just a single Biblical
verse posthumously to consecrate her memory, whereas shloshim (the thirty
days of mourning following burial of the loved one) appropriately accompanies
the death of Aaron.
I call foul
play and for a new interpretation of the message of the parshah. I argue
that the sin of Moses and Aaron, which prevented their entrance into the Holy
Land, was perhaps not a misstep somewhere in the process of striking the rock
but their unjust, unholy, and unequal treatment of their own sister, a woman, and a community member.
Miriam was
denied communal mourning by her brothers Moses and Aaron. There is not a single
rabbi or Biblical scholar who can find a way to expunge their sin, for their
mourning is blatantly absent - especially in juxtaposition to the mourning of
Aaron in this parshah. However, G-D remembers her and punishes
Moses and Aaron for their actions.
How can I claim this, you ask? Immediately following Miriam’s death, the Israelites suffer without water. Without literal or Biblical transition, a mainstay of the
structure of the Torah, one is ultimately pressed to link her death to the drought.
Moses cryptically learns of his sin in Numbers 20:12, which reads:
ויאמר ה' אל משה
ואל אהרן יען לא האמנתם בי להקדישני לעיני בני ישראל לכן לא תביאו את הקהל הזה אל הארץ
אשר נתתי להם
My translation
[and commentary]: “And said G-D to Moses and Aaron: “Thou
hast not had belief in Me to sanctify Me in the eyes of the Children of Israel.
Therefore, you shall not bring this community into the Land which I have given
them.”
Despite their
pleas, Moses and Aaron cannot convince G-D to reverse the decree. In fact, G-D
restates the sin and commands Moses, Aaron, and Eleazar (Aaron’s son) to ascend
Mount Hor, where the transference of garments results in the death of Aaron. After
mourning Aaron, venomous snakes subsequently plague the Israelites, but are no
match for Moses, and the Israelites are again saved.
So to recap: death
without mourning – drought and death; death with mourning – protection. The
only difference here was in who received proper mourning and who did not. The
importance of both Miriam and Aaron is certainly gleaned in previous Torah
passages, but it is as if Moses and Aaron forgot the life of their sister. Mind
you this is the same Miriam to whom Moses owes his very life as a vulnerable newborn
male to be otherwise killed in the time of Pharaoh. They stripped Miriam of a
piece of her humanity in denying her continued memory in mourning. Does she not
deserve memory because of her status as a woman? Even then, in the society
marred with such disparity in the treated of men and women, G-D deemed her nefesh
(soul) worthy of memory, just like Aaron, the High Priest.
Death and
memory are quintessential and inseparable from Judaism. But more than that, one
must also realize that the act of mourning is deeply holy. If you need any
assurance of such assertion, look no further than the Mourner’s Kaddish,
a prayer so intimately woven into the ritualistic ceremony of remembrance in
Jewish tradition. Jews worldwide recite this prayer in heartfelt emotion in recollection
of their deceased loved one. But, the words of the prayer do not involve death
or dying, but instead have the reader simply praise G-D. There is a beautiful communal
element to this prayer in that those in active mourning are instructed to rise
amid an otherwise seated congregation. The beginning of the prayer is read
publically by those standing in mourning, and mid-way through, the community and
the mourner together acclaim G-D’s blessed Name. Death is thus a social
function, a beautiful social function in which the mourner is supported by the
community, as the congregation, together, celebrates the memory of the deceased
in arguably the holiest of ways: sanctifying G-D. Reread Numbers 20:12, and the sin of Moses and and Aaron is clear: they did not sanctify G-D in the mourning of Miriam.
Each person is
a member of a community and deserves the respect to be treated as such, in life
or in death. Especially in the tides of this week’s landmark decision to
legally ensure the right for same-sex individuals to marry in the United
States, I hope that this message of honoring, respecting, and loving all people
translates across genders, sexes, sexual preferences, races, identities,
religions (or lack thereof) … pick your favorite social label. Ultimately, we are all people, and to deny any
shred of humanity to any person, be it proper mourning or a marriage, is the real
abomination which G-D judges most harshly. Sing and praise your fellow human in life and in death,
for it is an act of memory most holy unto G-D.
Congratulations to all my friends who can now be legally married - this ruling is well-overdue, and there is much work to still be done to ensure rights for all, but in the present moment, I wish to celebrate with you as did Miriam with her timbrel.
