Parashat Mattot / Massei 5770
I Swear to God
How many times have we heard the words of the bailiff instructing a witness to respond to his or her declaration: “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me, God?” In the Orthodox world, when someone makes a formal declaration that they will do something, and they do not want to suffer the consequences of not fulfilling their promise, they may utter under their breath the formulaic words, “b’li neder,” which means “without a vow.” For example, when I promise my wife that I will clean up the office in the house, I might say, “I’ll get to it this weekend, honey – b’li neder!” I may be committed to fulfilling my words, but this one little phrase prevents me from suffering any consequences should I not get to what I promised.I find it quite convenient that Judaism, or should I say rabbinic Judaism, has found a way to relieve us of any anxiety regarding the things we say and our lack of a commitment to follow through on our words. At the same time, I am uncomfortable with the fact that my words of promise can be so easily nullified in this way. I am reminded of Yom Kippur when the chazzan recites three times the Kol Nidrei prayer and how much fear and awe it evokes as the community stands in judgment at the beginning to a new year, and we ask that our sins be forgiven. When it was originally recited, the chazzan, in Aramaic legal language, asked God to nullify all of the vows, renunciations, bans, oaths, formulas of obligation, pledges and promises made by us during the year that just ended. Babylonian Jewish leaders opposed its recitation because it encouraged people to do what they wanted, knowing that they would be forgiven. So, the language was changed from past tense to future. Now, the Kol Nidrei prayer expresses our fear that with our best intentions, the “vows” that remain unfulfilled will be forgiven because we regret what we are unable to accomplish in advance of our doing so.
Just as berakhot make certain things acceptable by our words of praise to God, our “vows” nullify those things that we declare to be unacceptable to us. The seven different words that are a part of the Kol Nidrei prayer express a certain completeness in our endeavors, considering the special qualities of the number “seven” in Judaism, e.g, the seven days of the week. This week’s Torah portion opens up with laws regarding the making of oaths, in relation to men and women. The laws are different between the two. But let us not go into that. What interests me on this Shabbat is the nature of the vows that we take and their significance. The sages who formulated Jewish law state that one should NOT make a vow UNLESS you are qualified to do so.
Who is qualified and what are the necessary requirements for being able to swear an oath? According to one midrash, a person is forbidden to make an oath unless they possess the following personal character traits: (1) They must fear God in the same way that Abraham, Job, and Joseph had a healthy dose of reverence for the Divine Spirit who guided them in their journeys. (2) You must be able to serve God without interference. (3) You shall cleave to God – engaging in a life of mitzvoth and learning Torah. (4) The first three are enough to discourage anyone from making a vow. However, if you feel compelled to do so, and do not possess these qualities, you may do so – at your own peril – as long as you are not trivial about your swearing! At this point in the midrash, our sages introduce a story to help illustrate what they mean by their comments regarding trivializing our oaths. With some poetic license I share it with you:
“A story is told of King Jannai who owned two thousand towns, and they were all destroyed on account of true oaths. How? A man would say to his friend: ‘I swear to God, I am so hungry that I am planning on going to eat at McDavid’s and order a super-sized shwarma and falafel meal. I think I will also order one of their new pareve Sabra McFrappes!’ They would go and fulfill their oath and would be destroyed (for swearing to trifles). If this is the fate of one who swears in truth, how much more so of one who swears to a falsehood.” (Midrash Rabbah – Numbers XXII:1)
Although the example provided by the sages may seem trivial, what it highlights for us is the seriousness with which they honored their words or their oaths. They went to such great lengths to express the truth that they added a phrase to their sentences in an effort to protect them, such as “Im yirtzah ha-Shem” (“God be willing or With God’s help”). In all seriousness, what they did by doing this is connect their words to God while putting God’s reputation on the line. No wonder they proposed that only certain individuals of impeccable reputation ought to make a vow! No wonder we rely on the pleading of the chazzan on Yom Kippur Eve to disavow our promises in the coming year in an effort to save us from our own mis-directions!
In another example that is not so trivial, we recently read a haftarah in which the great military leader, Yiftach, made an oath to God that if he were to be successful in battle, he would sacrifice the first thing to greet him upon returning home safely. How could he anticipate that his only daughter, in her enthusiasm to greet her father, would be the first to cross the gate to his property? Our Torah portion for today teaches us that it is possible to annul a vow once it is uttered. The sages wondered why Yiftach did not annul his vow in order to save the life of his child! Certainly, the High Priest, Pinchas, had the power to change the severity of the decree. According to a certain midrash, each man had such a great ego that each waited for the other to approach him to initiate the ceremony that would undo what was uttered in the passion of battle. As a consequence of protecting their individual honors, the life of an innocent child was lost. And each of the men suffered a terrible death. Yiftach developed a disease in which he lost each of his limbs. When he died, his limbs were planted in different places. As for Pinchas, he lost his ability to hear God speak to him.
There are things that we do to protect our honor. We make oaths that we later regret, but are unable to see beyond our own egos. It is important to take pride in what we do. But it is also just as important for us to know when to humble ourselves and admit our shortcomings, promises we made, vows we uttered.
We are entering the month of Av when we remember the two Temples in Jerusalem and what they meant to the religious life of the Israelite community of long ago. The sages remind us that it was not our enemies that brought on the destruction. Rather, it was the way in which we treated one another with such disrespect with our words towards each other that was the ultimate culprit of our demise and our exile. When we do not respect what we say to our family and friends, how much more so are we to be trusted when we talk to strangers or try to convince our enemies of our peaceful intent.
The sages inform us that our preparations for the Yamim haNora’im begin not with the month of Elul, but rather with Av and our exile into Babylon and later, Rome. We ask for comfort and consoling in the weeks following Tisha b’Av when we read the Scroll of Lamentations. However, how can there be any consolation when we become introspective of our behavior in the past year and we discover how much we have fallen short in our expectations expressed last High Holy Day season. From one year to the next we wait with trepidation and fear, as well as awe and wonder, to listen to the voice of the chazzan to carry us on his (or her) shoulders as the prayer leader asks God for forgiveness in advance for any vows that we may make and not carry through in earnestness.
May this year’s efforts be rewarded with a sense of “being happier” as we seek out ways to piece the puzzles of our life back together, finding the interlocking pieces that help us to see a more complete picture of ourselves and our experiences and the meaning that they create. May we find the words to express our gratitude with life, as we learn from our hardships. May this year that we enter be one of continued growth as we honor the seeds we planted last year with our promises, and give new life to the things we plan to do to make this year a richer and more fulfilling one for ourselves, our loved ones, and our community – “so help me God” – “B’ezrat ha-Shem”!
