OzTorah

“No-one at work knows I’m Jewish!”

That’s what you hear from some people; how many, no-one can be certain. It is not that Jews are generally ashamed of their Jewishness, but simply that sometimes it is easier not to have to explain everything about yourself.

There may be long periods of years when you can manage not to reveal your Jewish identity, but in most cases it becomes known sooner or later.

A different philosophy motivates some Jews, especially men, who may well wear a kippah all day, however inconspicuous, and even let their tzitzit be visible.

If this is what a person wants and can cope with, fine. But as the sidra reminds us, tzitzit and other outward signs of Judaism are chiefly reminders to ourselves, not necessarily announcements to the world.

That does not mean that a person is exempt from tzitzit or kashrut or anything else, but the words of the Torah make it clear that, in relation to tzitzit, their purpose is “that you may look upon it and remember all the commandments of the Lord and do them” (Num. 15:37-41).

The outward reminder is to ensure that I myself am well aware of my Jewish identity and what it requires of me, namely “to do justly and love mercy and walk humbly with God” (Micah 6:8).

Whether people see my tzitzit or not, they should see that I am a person who is honest, fair-minded, truthful, decent and reliable. That goes a long way towards being a Jew wherever I go, whether I advertise my Judaism or not.

The return of the spies, by Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld, c. 1851

Twelve spies went, and only two -­ Joshua and Caleb -­ reported favourably.

Why then does the Torah give the others immortality by recording their names and the names of their fathers?

One answer is that the Torah is always realistic. It mentions both sinners and saints.

Not that anyone really is a total saint and never sins.

Judaism does not look for perfect people as its role models. It recognises that even the finest people sometimes do the wrong thing. Our task is to learn from mistakes as well as achievements.

When the ten spies sinned by maligning the land they taught us, and themselves, a precious lesson: you should not judge a task by its superficial easiness or difficulty.

You should weigh up the whole situation and never underestimate the task or regard it as impossible.

Q. Why do brides have to go to the mikvah?

A. A mikvah is a small pool constructed according to ancient rules.

It contains 40 se’ahs (a se’ah is about 3 gallons) of natural water – from rain, a natural spring, etc. – though it may be topped up with tap water and heated. The water level reaches the chest of an average person. Steps and a hand-rail lead down into the mikvah.

The lead-up to the wedding is busy for everyone, especially the bride. She often finds she hasn’t a moment to herself. Not only to think about the ceremony, but to be ready for the destiny that lies ahead.

In a sense, the moment of aloneness comes when she immerses in the water of the mikvah and offers the deepest prayer of her heart that she and her future husband may be united in love and happiness all the days of their lives.

The mikvah is an essential institution, along with the synagogues, yeshivot, schools, libraries, a Beth Din, Chevra Kadisha and Jewish shops, which together make Jewish living possible.

In some ways it is even more essential, because it consecrates Jewish marriage and family life to the purpose of Jewish commitment and continuity.

From Biblical times, immersion in the mikvah was an act of spiritual dedication. The Kohen Gadol (high priest), for example, had to immerse himself in order to conduct the Yom Kippur rituals.

Today a mikvah is used by a bride before marriage, a married woman after her monthly period, a mother after childbirth, and a person (male or female) converting to Judaism. In some communities it is also used by men in preparation for sacred occasions, especially the High Holydays.

Ancient mikva’ot have been found in many places including Masada, evidence that the mikvah was used throughout history.

Immersion is not intended to fulfil a hygienic purpose, since one must be physically clean before entering it. Its significance is spiritual, ushering in a new phase in a person’s life.

For the bride it consecrates the marital union. Within marriage it acknowledges the privilege of love and intimacy which enables a couple to enjoy each other and create new life. Abstinence from sex during menstruation and for seven “clean” days thereafter ensures fresh excitement in a marriage every month.

Some ask, why do we need rituals in order to feel spiritual? The answer is that this is the genius of Judaism, ritualising and dramatising great ideals to ensure that concepts and values do not vanish into thin air.

An additional contribution made by the mikvah is to celebrate the feminine life cycle. The rhythms of life are sacred for every Jew, and especially for the Jewish woman.

We are familiar with the words from the reading for this Shabbat, Shuvah HaShem riv’vot alfei yisra’el – “Return, O Lord, to the ten thousands of the families of Israel” (Num. 10:36).

These words are sung as the Torah is brought back to the Ark, and many synagogal composers have created moving musical renditions of them.

The question is, however, why we say to God, “Return”. Where has He been? What sort of returning do we expect from Him?

Rashi and Ibn Ezra believe the word shuvah is to be understood as “bestow peace and tranquillity”. Sforno prefers, “May Your Divine Presence rest”.

Chizkuni thinks the word implies, “Restore the ten thousands of Israel to their place”.

All these views clearly agree on one thing – that the people of Israel have no future or destiny without God.

Isidore Epstein, my teacher, used to compare people who think they can manage without God to a steam train when the steam is turned off.

For a while the momentum will continue, but eventually the train will slow down and stall, and the same thing applies if a generation or individual think they can still get somewhere without the Almighty.

For a while things will keep going, but eventually the spiritual and moral energy will no longer be there and their path will peter out.

A section of this week’s sidra is made up of the 85 letters of the passages recited when the Ark is opened – vay’hi bin’so’a ha’aron – and when it is closed – uv’nucho yomar (Num. 10:35-36).

There is an inverted letter nun before this section and one after it, as if it were enclosed in brackets.

Rabbinic commentary regarded these two letters as enshrining a Divine message (Shab. 116a).

One view is that nun is the first letter of ner, a light. But there are two lights that it could symbolise, the light of the Lord and the light of man. Probably both are meant, one at the beginning and one at the end.

When the world is enclosed and protected by Divine and human light, creation is safe. But if we allow the light of the Almighty to be dimmed and the light of humanity to be compromised, the future of civilisation is in jeopardy.