The Ramifications of Ramifications
God challenges us with consequences to our actions not to simply mete out reward and punishment but in order to give us the opportunity to grow into a deep, committed relationship with Him.
This week’s parsha opens with the strange case of Yifat toar – the scenario in which a Jewish soldier in battle sees a beautiful captive and is given permission to marry her. Many commentaries claim that this jarring passage is intended to be figurative. However, we know that at least on one level it’s literal, because King David did engage with these kinds of non-Jewish captives. Yet throughout Sefer Devarim, we are repeatedly warned against marrying non-Jews, so why would the Torah allow such a bizarre union?
Rashi quotes the midrash which explains that the next sections of the Parsha constitute a continuation of this overall theme because they address problematic family situations that stem from the Yifat Toar. The Torah goes on to explain that if a man should take multiple wives, where one wife is beloved, and the other wife hated, in such a case the oldest child is still entitled to the inheritance, even if he is the child of the hated wife.
That law is followed by the inexplicable case where a rebellious child engages in odious behavior such as being gluttonous in public, and we are commanded to put him to death. The Gemara in Mesechet Sanhedrin says this harsh reaction is justified to prevent the likelihood of even worse behavior as he grows up. The Midrash views these passages as a warning about the dire consequences of the Yefat Toar, the beautiful captive taken by the soldier described at the beginning of the Parsha, because she will inevitably become a despised wife and raise a rebellious child. It is therefore fair to ask the following: if a disaster is likely to ensue, why did the Torah permit a Yefat Toar in the first place?
I think we can find the answer if we delve into our Parsha’s broader theme. As we’ve pointed out in the past, Parshat Ki Teitzei is unique because it uses the word ki, or a variation of that word, at least 50 times, far more times than any other Parsha in the Torah. According to Rashi’s various commentaries, the word ki has seven meanings in English: because, if, when, rather, that, perhaps, and is (when it precedes a question.) Notably, all these meanings share a common denominator – they can all be used to denote consequences, actual or potential. It could be that the idea of consequences, is the key to understanding our Parsha and it’s connection to the upcoming High Holidays.
This topic is a very fitting introduction to Rosh Hashana because the High Holidays revolve around the concept of Yir’ah, which basically means fear. The word Yir’ah derives from reiyah / to see, as in the idea of seeing the implications of one’s actions. In this context, yir’ah doesn’t really mean that we feel afraid – it means that we foresee the ramifications of our behavior, which as a result of our belief in God, could include reward or punishment.
On one level it’s easy to understand that you should be fearful of God and accordingly do teshuva on Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. Unfortunately, many people think that fearing God is the endgame; what they overlook is that God created consequences because He cares about us. When we face the ramifications of our behavior, we see that God is aware of our existence and is intimately involved in the lives of each and every one of us. So even though the High holidays are based on yirah, or fear, this does not simply mean we should be fearful. Yirah teaches us that the implication of the high holidays is that we matter to God.
I think this is the Rambam’s message when he describes the idea of loving and fearing God in two separate places in Sefer Mada: one at the beginning of the book and one at the end.
At the outset, in Hilchot Yesodei Hatorah, he explains that there is a mitzvah to love and fear God. Any person, Jew or non-Jew, can appreciate the phenomenon he describes – you see the wonders of nature and suddenly feel a transcendent love for God. However, when you realize you’re merely a speck in the vast, wondrous universe, your feeling of love can quickly turn into a feeling of fear. This occurs because the grandeur of nature can provide only an introductory understanding of God, one that is simplistic and perhaps superficial, void of any emphasis on genuine relationship and commitment.
The Rambam tells us later, at the end of Sefer Mada, in Hilchot Teshuva, that such a view of God is shallow and limiting, and that our relationship with God should entail more than merely acknowledging His existence. After one goes through all the levels of Sefer Mada and reaches the end of life’s journey, one reaches a much higher level called avoda, service of God, which entails a genuine relationship characterized by commitment. That kind of connection begins with avoda meyir’ah, serving God with fear, which means behaving with an eye on reward and punishment. But eventually, it rises to the highest level of serving God with love.
We can reach that very high level only when we consistently view our relationship with God as avoda, rooted in our conviction that our actions have implications that reflect God’s caring about the details of our lives.
Viewed in this light, we can see that the opening of our Parsha provides a vivid illustration of what occurs when the foundation of a relationship, with God or a human being, is shallow at best. In the case of the captive woman, I think the Torah is telling us that if you base a relationship on superficial characteristics, it will turn sour. The only basis for a positive outcome is a real commitment to the person that can serve as avoda - a meaningful commitment to a relationship.
This lesson is exemplified in the story of our forefather Yaakov and his wives, Rachel and Leah. Yaakov married Rachel, who incredibly is described as yefat toar, the same words used to describe the captive bride mentioned at the beginning of our Parsha. And in a scenario similar to the one we discussed earlier, he ended up with one wife who was hated – Leah -- and one who was beloved - Rachel. Moreover, he had a child from his beloved wife Rachel, Yosef, to whom he bequeathed the double portion inheritance, seemingly in violation of the Torah’s mandate!
Under other circumstances, this situation could have been disastrous. Instead, it ended up with Yaakov having a mitato shleima, with every one of his children being righteous, unlike what happened to his father and grandfather who each had a child resembling the rebellious child. The vital element was Yaakov’s commitment to avoda, service, where he was willing to work 14 years in order to make the commitment of marriage with both Leah and Rachel. He ended up deeply connected to both wives. Leah bore most of the tribes of the Jewish people and was buried with him for eternity. The case of Yefat Toar presents a stark contrast to Yaakov’s story because it springs from impulsive desires, not from sincere devotion and commitment. That is why the Torah commands the soldier to marry – to demonstrate a genuine commitment because that’s the only way such a union can possibly be successful.
As we prepare for Rosh Hashana, we should take this message to heart. We must understand that our relationship with God need not be a tenuous connection based on rote behavior, going through the motions, and reward or punishment. Instead, our bond with God can and should develop from our deep conviction that His judgment is the manifestation of His deep caring about us and that everything we do in our lives matter.
God challenges us with ramifications to our behavior not to simply to mete out reward and punishment but in order to have the opportunity to grow into a deep, committed relationship with Him. By embracing this positive perspective, we can embark on a High Holidays journey that holds profound meaning, paving the way for an incredibly fulfilling and meaningful New Year.
Shabbat Shalom.